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by James Legge
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Title: THE CHINESE CLASSICS (PROLEGOMENA) Unicode Version
Author: James Legge
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The Project Gutenberg Etext of THE CHINESE CLASSICS (PROLEGOMENA) by James Legge
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THE CHINESE CLASSICS (PROLEGOMENA) A note from the digitizer
This digitized version preserves the original page breaks. The text of
each page is followed by its notes. Note reference numbers in the text are
enclosed in brackets.
In a few places I have substituted the character forms available in the
Big 5 character set for rare or (what are now considered) nonstandard
forms used by Legge. Characters not included in the Big 5 character set in
any form are described by their constituent elements.
THE CHINESE CLASSICS
with a translation, critical and exegetical notes,
prolegomena, and copious indexes by James Legge IN FIVE VOLUMES CONFUCIAN ANALECTS PROLEGOMENA.
CHAPTER I. 1. The Books now recognised as of highest authority in China are
comprehended under the denominations of 'The five Ching [1]' and
'The four Shu [2].' The term Ching is of textile origin, and
signifies the warp threads of a web, and their adjustment. An easy
application of it is to denote what is regular and insures regularity. As
used with reference to books, it indicates their authority on the subjects of
which they treat. 'The five Ching' are the five canonical Works,
containing the truth upon the highest subjects from the sages of China, and
which should be received as law by all generations. The term Shu
simply means Writings or Books, = the Pencil Speaking; it may
be used of a single character, or of books containing thousands of
characters.
2. 'The five Ching' are: the Yi [3], or, as it has been styled, 'The
Book of Changes;' the Shu [4], or 'The Book of History;' the Shih
[5], or 'The Book of Poetry;' the Li Chi [6], or 'Record of Rites;' and the
Ch'un Ch'iu [7], or 'Spring and Autumn,' a chronicle of events,
extending from 722 to 481 B.C. The authorship, or compilation rather, of all
these Works is loosely attributed to Confucius. But much of the Li Chi is
from later hands. Of the Yi, the Shu, and the Shih, it is only in the first that
we find additions attributed to the philosopher himself, in the shape of
appendixes. The Ch'un Ch'iu is the only one of the five Ching which can,
with an approximation to correctness, be described as of his own 'making.'
1 五經. 'The Four Books' is an abbreviation for 'The Books of the Four
Philosophers [1].' The first is the Lun Yu [2], or 'Digested Conversations,'
being occupied chiefly with the sayings of Confucius. He is the philosopher
to whom it belongs. It appears in this Work under the title of 'Confucian
Analects.' The second is the Ta Hsio [3], or 'Great Learning,' now commonly
attributed to Tsang Shan [4], a disciple of the sage. He is he philosopher of
it. The third is the Chung Yung [5], or 'Doctrine of the Mean,' as the name
has often been translated, though it would be better to render it, as in the
present edition, by 'The State of Equilibrium and Harmony.' Its composition
is ascribed to K'ung Chi [6], the grandson of Confucius. He is the philosopher
of it. The fourth contains the works of Mencius.
3. This arrangement of the Classical Books, which is commonly supposed
to have originated with the scholars of the Sung dynasty, is defective. The
Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean are both found in
the Record of Rites, being the thirty-ninth and twenty-eighth Books
respectively of that compilation, according to the best arrangement of it.
4. The oldest enumerations of the Classical Books specify only the five
Ching. The Yo Chi, or 'Record of Music [7],' the remains of which now
form one of the Books in the Li Chi, was sometimes added to those, making
with them the six Ching. A division was also made into nine
Ching, consisting of the Yi, the Shih, the Shu, the Chau Li [8], or 'Ritual of
Chau,' the I Li [9], or certain 'Ceremonial Usages,' the Li Chi, and the
annotated editions of the Ch'un Ch'iu [10], by Tso Ch'iu-ming [11], Kung-
yang Kao [12], and Ku-liang Ch'ih [13]. In the famous compilation of the
Classical Books, undertaken by order of T'ai-tsung, the second emperor of
the T'ang dynasty (A.D. 627-649), and which appeared in the reign of his
successor, there are thirteen Ching, viz. the Yi, the Shih, the Shu, the
three editions of the Ch'un Ch'iu, the Li Chi, the Chau Li, the I Li, the
Confucian Analects, the R Ya [14], a sort of ancient dictionary, the
Hsiao Ching [15], or 'Classic of Filial Piety,' and the works of Mencius.
5. A distinction, however, was made among the Works thus
1 四子之書. comprehended under the same common name; and Mencius, the Lun Yu,
the Ta Hsio, the Chung Yung, and the Hsiao Ching were spoken of as the
Hsiao Ching, or 'Smaller Classics.' It thus appears, contrary to the ordinary
opinion on the subject, that the Ta Hsio and Chung Yung had been
published as separate treatises before the Sung dynasty, and that Four
Books, as distinguished from the greater Ching, had also previously found a
place in the literature of China [1].
SECTION II. THE AUTHORITY OF THE CHINESE CLASSICS. 1. This subject will be discussed in connexion with each separate Work,
and it is only designed here to exhibit generally the evidence on which the
Chinese Classics claim to be received as genuine productions of the time to
which they are referred.
2. In the memoirs of the Former Han dynasty (B.C. 202-A.D. 24), we
have one chapter which we may call the History of Literature [2]. It
commences thus: 'After the death of Confucius [3], there was an end of his
exquisite words; and when his seventy disciples had passed away, violence
began to be done to their meaning. It came about that there were five
different editions of the Ch'un Ch'iu, four of the Shih, and several of the Yi.
Amid the disorder and collisions of the warring States (B.C. 481-220), truth
and falsehood were still more in a state of warfare, and a sad confusion
marked the words of the various scholars. Then came the calamity inflicted
under the Ch'in dynasty (B.C. 220-205), when the literary monuments
were destroyed by fire, in order to keep the people in ignorance. But, by
and by, there arose the Han dynasty, which set itself to remedy the evil
wrought by the Ch'in. Great efforts were made to collect slips and tablets
[4], and the way was thrown wide open for the bringing in of Books. In the
time of the emperor Hsiao-wu [5] (B.C. 140-85), portions of Books being
wanting and tablets lost, so that ceremonies and music were
1 For the statements in the two last paragraphs, see 西河合集, 大學證文, 卷
一. suffering great damage, he was moved to sorrow and said, "I am very
sad for this." He therefore formed the plan of Repositories, in which the
Books might be stored, and appointed officers to transcribe Books on an
extensive scale, embracing the works of the various scholars, that they
might all be placed in the Repositories. The emperor Ch'ang (B.C. 32-5),
finding that a portion of the Books still continued dispersed or missing,
commissioned Ch'an Nang, the Superintendent of Guests [2], to search for
undiscovered Books throughout the empire, and by special edict ordered
the chief of the Banqueting House, Liu Hsiang [3], to examine the Classical
Works, along with the commentaries on them, the writings of the scholars,
and all poetical productions; the Master-controller of Infantry, Zan Hwang
[4], to examine the Books on the art of war; the Grand Historiographer, Yin
Hsien [5], to examine the Books treating of the art of numbers (i.e.
divination); and the imperial Physician, Li Chu-kwo [6], to examine the
Books on medicine. Whenever any book was done with, Hsiang forthwith
arranged it, indexed it, and made a digest of it, which was presented to the
emperor. While this work was in progress, Hsiang died, and the emperor Ai
(B.C. 6-A.D. 1) appointed his son, Hsin [7], a Master of the imperial
carriages, to complete his father's work. On this, Hsin collected all the
Books, and presented a report of them, under seven divisions.'
The first of these divisions seems to have been a general catalogue [8]
containing perhaps only the titles of the works included in the other six.
The second embraced the Classical Works [9]. From the abstract of it, which
is preserved in the chapter referred to, we find that there were 294
collections of the Yi-ching from thirteen different individuals or editors
[10]; 412 collections of the Shu-ching, from nine different individuals; 416
volumes of the Shih-ching, from six different individuals [11]; of the Books
of Rites, 555 collec-
1 孝成皇帝. tions, from thirteen different individuals; of the Books on Music, 165
collections, from six different editors; 948 collections of History, under the
heading of the Ch'un Ch'iu, from twenty-three different individuals; 229
collections of the Lun Yu, including the Analects and kindred fragments,
from twelve different individuals; of the Hsiao-ching, embracing also the
R Ya, and some other portions of the ancient literature, 59 collections,
from eleven different individuals; and finally of the lesser Learning, being
works on the form of the characters, 45 collections, from eleven different
individuals. The works of Mencius were included in the second division [1],
among the writings of what were deemed orthodox scholars [2], of which
there were 836 collections, from fifty-three different individuals.
3. The above important document is sufficient to show how the
emperors of the Han dynasty, as soon as they had made good their
possession of the empire, turned their attention to recover the ancient
literature of the nation, the Classical Books engaging their first care, and
how earnestly and effectively the scholars of the time responded to the
wishes of their rulers. In addition to the facts specified in the preface to it,
I may relate that the ordinance of the Ch'in dynasty against possessing the
Classical Books (with the exception, as it will appear in its proper place, of
the Yi-ching) was repealed by the second sovereign of the Han, the
emperor Hsiao Hui [3], in the fourth year of his reign, B.C. 191, and that a
large portion of the Shu-ching was recovered in the time of the third
emperor, B.C. 179-157, while in the year B.C. 136 a special Board was
constituted, consisting of literati, who were put in charge of the five Ching
[4].
4. The collections reported on by Liu Hsin suffered damage in the
troubles which began A.D. 8, and continued till the rise of the second or
eastern Han dynasty in the year 25. The founder of it (A.D. 25-57)
zealously promoted the undertaking of his predecessors, and additional
repositories were required for the Books which were collected. His
successors, the emperors Hsiao-ming [5] (58-75), Hsiao-chang [6] (76-88),
and Hsiao-hwo [7] (89-105), took a part themselves in the studies and
discussions of the literary tribunal, and
1 諸子略. the emperor Hsiao-ling [1], between the years 172-178, had the text of
the five Ching, as it had been fixed, cut in slabs of stone, and set up in the
capital outside the gate of the Grand College. Some old accounts say that
the characters were in three different forms, but they were only in one
form; -- see the 287th book of Chu I-tsun's great Work.
5. Since the Han, the successive dynasties have considered the literary
monuments of the country to be an object of their special care. Many of
them have issued editions of the Classics, embodying the commentaries of
preceding generations. No dynasty has distinguished itself more in this line
than the present Manchau possessors of the empire. In fine, the evidence
is complete that the Classical Books of China have come down from at least
a century before our Christian era, substantially the same as we have them
at present.
6. But it still remains to inquire in what condition we may suppose the
Books were, when the scholars of the Han dynasty commenced their labors
upon them. They acknowledge that the tablets -- we cannot here speak of
manuscripts -- were mutilated and in disorder. Was the injury which
they had received of such an extent that all the care and study put forth
on the small remains would be of little use? This question can be answered
satisfactorily, only by an examination of the evidence which is adduced for
the text of each particular Classic; but it can be made apparent that there is
nothing, in the nature of the case, to interfere with our believing that the
materials were sufficient to enable the scholars to execute the work
intrusted to them.
7 The burning of the ancient Books by order of the founder of the Ch'in
dynasty is always referred to as the greatest disaster which they
sustained, and with this is coupled the slaughter of many of the Literati by
the same monarch.
The account which we have of these transactions in the Historical
Records is the following [2]:
'In his 34th year [the 34th year, that is, after he had ascended the
throne of Ch'in. It was only the 9th year after he had been acknowledged
Sovereign of the empire, coinciding with B.C. 213], the emperor, returning
from a visit to the south, which had extended
1 孝靈皇帝. as far as Yueh, gave a feast in his palace at Hsien-yang, when the Great
Scholars, amounting to seventy men, appeared and wished him a long life
[1]. One of the principal ministers, Chau Ch'ing-ch'an [2], came forward and
said, "Formerly, the State of Ch'in was only 1000 li in extent, but Your
Majesty, by your spirit-like efficacy and intelligent wisdom, has
tranquillized and settled the whole empire, and driven away all barbarous
tribes, so that, wherever the sun and moon shine, all rulers appear before
you as guests acknowledging subjection. You have formed the states of the
various princes into provinces and districts, where the people enjoy a
happy tranquillity, suffering no more from the calamities of war and
contention. This condition of things will be transmitted for 10,000
generations. From the highest antiquity there has been no one in awful
virtue like Your Majesty."
'The emperor was pleased with this flattery, when Shun-yu Yueh [3],
one of the Great Scholars, a native of Ch'i, advanced and said, "The
sovereigns of Yin and Chau, for more than a thousand years, invested their
sons and younger brothers, and meritorious ministers, with domains and
rule, and could thus depend upon them for support and aid;-- that I have
heard. But now Your Majesty is in possession of all within the seas, and
your sons and younger brothers are nothing but private individuals. The
issue will be that some one will arise to play the part of T'ien Ch'ang [4], or
of the six nobles of Tsin. Without the support of your own family,
where will you find the aid which you may require? That a state of things
not modelled from the lessons of antiquity can long continue;-- that is
what I have not heard. Ch'ing is now showing himself to be a flatterer, who
increases the errors of Your Majesty, and not a loyal minister."
'The emperor requested the opinions of others on this representation,
and the premier, Li Sze [5], said, "The five emperors were not one the
double of the other, nor did the three dynasties accept one another's ways.
Each had a peculiar system of government, not for the sake of the
contrariety, but as being required by the changed times. Now, Your
Majesty has laid the foundations of
1 博士七十人前為壽. The 博士 were not only 'great scholars,' but had an
official rank. There was what we may call a college of them, consisting of
seventy members. imperial sway, so that it will last for 10,000 generations. This is indeed
beyond what a stupid scholar can understand. And, moreover, Yueh only
talks of things belonging to the Three Dynasties, which are not fit to be
models to you. At other times, when the princes were all striving together,
they endeavoured to gather the wandering scholars about them; but now,
the empire is in a stable condition, and laws and ordinances issue from one
supreme authority. Let those of the people who abide in their homes
give their strength to the toils of husbandry, while those who become
scholars should study the various laws and prohibitions. Instead of doing
this, however, the scholars do not learn what belongs to the present day,
but study antiquity. They go on to condemn the present time, leading the
masses of the people astray, and to disorder.
'"At the risk of my life, I, the prime minister, say: Formerly, when the
nation was disunited and disturbed, there was no one who could give unity
to it. The princes therefore stood up together; constant references were
made to antiquity to the injury of the present state; baseless statements
were dressed up to confound what was real, and men made a boast of their
own peculiar learning to condemn what their rulers appointed. And now,
when Your Majesty has consolidated the empire, and, distinguishing black
from white, has constituted it a stable unity, they still honour their
peculiar learning, and combine together; they teach men what is contrary
to your laws. When they hear that an ordinance has been issued, every one
sets to discussing it with his learning. In the court, they are dissatisfied in
heart; out of it, they keep talking in the streets. While they make a
pretense of vaunting their Master, they consider it fine to have
extraordinary views of their own. And so they lead on the people to be
guilty of murmuring and evil speaking. If these things are not prohibited,
Your Majesty's authority will decline, and parties will be formed. The best
way is to prohibit them, I pray that all the Records in charge of the
Historiographers be burned, excepting those of Ch'in; that, with the
exception of those officers belonging to the Board of Great Scholars, all
throughout the empire who presume to keep copies of the Shih-ching, or of
the Shu-ching, or of the books of the Hundred Schools, be required to go
with them to the officers in charge of the several districts, and burn them
[1]; that all who may dare to speak
1 悉詣守尉雜燒之. together about the Shih and the Shu be put to death, and their bodies
exposed in the market-place; that those who make mention of the past, so
as to blame the present, be put to death along with their relatives; that
officers who shall know of the violation of those rules and not inform
against the offenders, be held equally guilty with them; and that whoever
shall not have burned their Books within thirty days after the issuing of
the ordinance, be branded and sent to labor on the wall for four years.
The only Books which should be spared are those on medicine, divination,
and husbandry. Whoever wants to learn the laws may go to the
magistrates and learn of them."
'The imperial decision was -- "Approved."'
The destruction of the scholars is related more briefly. In the year after
the burning of the Books, the resentment of the emperor was excited by
the remarks and the flight of two scholars who had been favourites with
him, and he determined to institute a strict inquiry about all of their class
in Hsien-yang, to find out whether they had been making ominous
speeches about him, and disturbing the minds of the people. The
investigation was committed to the Censors [1], and it being discovered
that upwards of 460 scholars had violated the prohibitions, they were all
buried alive in pits [2], for a warning to the empire, while degradation and
banishment were employed more strictly than before against all who fell
under suspicion. The emperor's eldest son, Fu-su, remonstrated with him,
saying that such measures against those who repeated the words of
Confucius and sought to imitate him, would alienate all the people from
their infant dynasty, but his interference offended him father so much that
he was sent off from court, to be with the general who was superintending
the building of the great wall.
8. No attempts have been made by Chinese critics and historians to
discredit the record of these events, though some have questioned the
extent of the injury inflicted by them on the monuments of their ancient
literature [3]. It is important to observe that the edict against the Books
did not extend to the Yi-ching, which was
1 御史悉案問諸生, 諸生傳相告引. exempted as being a work on divination, nor did it extend to the other
classics which were in charge of the Board of Great Scholars. There ought to
have been no difficulty in finding copies when the Han dynasty
superseded that of the Ch'in, and probably there would have been none
but for the sack of the capital in B.C. 206 by Hsiang Yu, the formidable
opponent of the founder of the House of Han. Then, we are told, the fires
blazed for three months among the palaces and public buildings, and must
have proved as destructive to the copies of the Great Scholars as the edict
of the tyrant had been to the copies among the people.
It is to be noted also that the life of Shih Hwang Ti lasted only three
years after the promulgation of his edict. He died in B.C. 210, and the reign
of his second son who succeeded him lasted only other three years. A brief
period of disorder and struggling for the supreme authority between
different chiefs ensured; but the reign of the founder of the Han dynasty
dates from B.C. 202. Thus, eleven years were all which intervened between
the order for the burning of the Books and rise of that family, which
signaled itself by the care which it bestowed for their recovery; and from
the edict of the tyrant of Ch'in against private individuals having copies in
their keeping, to its express abrogation by the emperor Hsiao Hui, there
were only twenty-two years. We may believe, indeed, that vigorous efforts
to carry the edict into effect would not be continued longer than the life of
its author,-- that is, not for more than about three years. The calamity
inflicted upon the ancient Books of China by the House of Ch'in could not
have approached to anything like a complete destruction of them. There
would be no occasion for the scholars of the Han dynasty, in regard to the
bulk of their ancient literature, to undertake more than the work of
recension and editing.
9. The idea of forgery by them on a large scale is out of the question.
The catalogues of Liang Hsin enumerated more than 13,000 volumes of a
larger or smaller size, the productions of nearly 600 different writers, and
arranged in thirty-eight subdivisions of subjects [1]. In the third catalogue,
the first subdivision contained the orthodox writers [2], to the number of
fifty-three, with 836 Works or portions of their Works. Between Mencius
and
1 凡書六略, 三十八種, 五百九十六家, 萬三千二百六九卷. K'ung Chi, the grandson of Confucius, eight different authors have place.
The second subdivision contained the Works of the Taoist school [1],
amounting to 993 collections, from thirty-seven different authors. The
sixth subdivision contained the Mohist writers [2], to the number of six,
with their productions in 86 collections. I specify these two subdivisions,
because they embrace the Works of schools or sects antagonistic to that of
Confucius, and some of them still hold a place in Chinese literature, and
contain many references to the five Classics, and to Confucius and his
disciples.
10. The inquiry pursued in the above paragraphs conducts us to the
conclusion that the materials from which the classics, as they have come
down to us, were compiled and edited in the two centuries preceding our
Christian era, were genuine remains, going back to a still more remote
period. The injury which they sustained from the dynasty of Ch'in was, I
believe, the same in character as that to which they were exposed during
all the time of 'the Warring States.' It may have been more intense in
degree, but the constant warfare which prevailed for some centuries
among the different states which composed the kingdom was eminently
unfavourable to the cultivation of literature. Mencius tells us how the
princes had made away with many of the records of antiquity, from which
their own usurpations and innovations might have been condemned [3].
Still the times were not unfruitful, either in scholars or statesmen, to
whom the ways and monuments of antiquity were dear, and the space
from the rise of the Ch'in dynasty to the death of Confucius was not very
great. It only amounted to 258 years. Between these two periods Mencius
stands as a connecting link. Born probably in the year B.C. 371, he reached,
by the intervention of Kung Chi, back to the sage himself, and as his death
happened B.C. 288, we are brought down to within nearly half a century of
the Ch'in dynasty. From all these considerations we may proceed with
confidence to consider each separate Work, believing that we have in these
Classics and Books what the great sage of China and his disciples gave to
their country more than 2000 years ago.
1 道家者流. CHAPTER II. SECTION I. 1. When the work of collecting and editing the remains of the Classical
Books was undertaken by the scholars of Han, there appeared two
different copies of the Analects, one from Lu, the native State of Confucius,
and the other from Ch'i, the State adjoining. Between these there were
considerable differences. The former consisted of twenty Books or
Chapters, the same as those into which the Classic is now divided. The
latter contained two Books in addition, and in the twenty Books, which
they had in common, the chapters and sentences were somewhat more
numerous than in the Lu exemplar.
2. The names of several individuals are given, who devoted themselves
to the study of those two copies of the Classic. Among the patrons of the Lu
copy are mentioned the names of Hsia-hau Shang, grand-tutor of the heir-
apparent, who died at the age of 90, and in the reign of the emperor Hsuan
(B.C. 73-49) [1]; Hsiao Wang-chih [2], a general-officer, who died in the
reign of the emperor Yuan (B.C. 48-33); Wei Hsien, who was a premier of
the empire from B.C. 70-66; and his son Hsuan-ch'ang [3]. As patrons of the
Ch'i copy, we have Wang Ch'ing, who was a censor in the year B.C. 99 [4];
Yung Shang [5]; and Wang Chi [6], a statesman who died in the beginning of
the reign of the emperor Yuan.
3. But a third copy of the Analects was discovered about B.C. 150. One of
the sons of the emperor Ching was appointed king of Lu [7] in the year B.C.
154, and some time after, wishing to enlarge his palace, he proceeded to
pull down the house of the K'ung family, known as that where Confucius
himself had lived.
1 太子大傳夏侯勝. While doing so, there were found in the wall copies of the Shu-ching,
the Ch'un Ch'iu, the Hsiao-ching, and the Lun Yu or Analects, which had
been deposited there, when the edict for the burning of the Books was
issued. There were all written, however, in the most ancient form of the
Chinese character [1], which had fallen into disuse, and the king returned
them to the K'ung family, the head of which, K'ung An-kwo [2], gave
himself to the study of them, and finally, in obedience to an imperial order,
published a Work called "The Lun Yu, with Explanations of the Characters,
and Exhibition of the Meaning [3].'
4. The recovery of this copy will be seen to be a most important
circumstance in the history f the text of the Analects. It is referred to by
Chinese writers, as 'The old Lun Yu.' In the historical narrative which we
have of the affair, a circumstance is added which may appear to some
minds to throw suspicion on the whole account. The king was finally
arrested, we are told, in his purpose to destroy the house, by hearing the
sounds of bells, musical stones, lutes, and citherns, as he was ascending the
steps that led to the ancestral hall or temple. This incident was contrived,
we may suppose, by the K'ung family, to preserve the house, or it may
have been devised by the historian to glorify the sage, but we may not, on
account of it, discredit the finding of the ancient copies of the Books. We
have K'ung An-kwo's own account of their being committed to him, and of
the ways which he took to decipher them. The work upon the Analects,
mentioned above, has not indeed come down to us, but his labors on the
Shu-ching still remain.
5. It has been already stated, that the Lun Yu of Ch'i contained two
Books more than that of Lu. In this respect, the old Lun Yu agreed with the
Lu exemplar. Those two books were wanting in it as well. The last book of
the Lu Lun was divided in it, however, into two, the chapter beginning,
'Yao said,' forming a whole Book by itself, and the remaining two chapters
formed another Book beginning 'Tsze-chang.' With this trifling difference,
the old and the Lu copies appear to have agreed together.
6 Chang Yu, prince of An-ch'ang [4], who died B.C. 4, after having
1 科斗文子, -- lit. 'tadpole characters.' They were, it is said, the original
forms devised by Ts'ang-chieh, with large heads and fine tails, like the
creature from which they were named. See the notes to the preface to the
Shu-ching in 'The Thirteen Classics.' sustained several of the highest offices of the empire, instituted a
comparison between the exemplars of Lu and Ch'i, with a view to
determine the true text. The result of his labors appeared in twenty-one
Books, which are mentioned in Liu Hsin's catalogue. They were known as
the Lun of prince Chang [1], and commanded general approbation. To
Chang Yu is commonly ascribed the ejecting from the Classic the two
additional books which the Ch'i exemplar contained, but Ma Twan-lin
prefers to rest that circumstance on the authority of the old Lun, which we
have seen was without them [2]. If we had the two Books, we might find
sufficient reason from their contents to discredit them. That may have
been sufficient for Chang Yu to condemn them as he did, but we can hardly
supposed that he did not have before him the old Lun, which had come to
light about a century before he published his work.
7. In the course of the second century, a new edition of the Analects,
with a commentary, was published by one of the greatest scholars which
China has ever produced, Chang Hsuan, known also as Chang K'ang-ch'ang
[3]. He died in the reign of the emperor Hsien (A.D. 190-220) [4] at the age
of 74, and the amount of his labors on the ancient classical literature is
almost incredible. While he adopted the Lu Lun as the received text of his
time, he compared it minutely with those of Ch'i and the old exemplar. In
the last section f this chapter will be found a list of the readings in his
commentary different from those which are now acknowledged in
deference to the authority of Chu Hsi, of the Sung dynasty. They are not
many, and their importance is but trifling.
8. On the whole, the above statements will satisfy the reader of the care
with which the text of the Lun Yu was fixed during the dynasty of Han.
SECTION II. 1. At the commencement of the notes upon the first Book, under the
heading, 'The Title of the Work,' I have given the received account of its
authorship, which precedes the catalogue
1 張侯論. of Liu Hsin. According to that, the Analects were compiled by the
disciples if Confucius coming together after his death, and digesting the
memorials of his discourses and conversations which they had severally
preserved. But this cannot be true. We may believe, indeed, that many of
the disciples put on record conversations which they had had with their
master, and notes about his manners and incidents of his life, and that
these have been incorporated with the Work which we have, but that
Work must have taken its present form at a period somewhat later.
In Book VIII, chapters iii iv, we have some notices of the last days of
Tsang Shan, and are told that he was visited on his death-bed by the
officer Mang Ching. Now Ching was the posthumous title of Chung-
sun Chieh [1], and we find him alive (Li Chi, II. Pt. ii. 2) after the death of
duke Tao of Lu [2], which took place B.C. 431, about fifty years after the
death of Confucius.
Again, Book XIX is all occupied with the sayings of the disciples.
Confucius personally does not appear in it. Parts of it, as chapters iii, xii,
and xviii, carry us down to a time when the disciples had schools and
followers of their own, and were accustomed to sustain their teachings by
referring to the lessons which they had learned from the sage.
Thirdly, there is the second chapter of Book XI, the second paragraph of
which is evidently a note by the compilers of the Work, enumerating ten of
the principal disciples, and classifying them according to their
distinguishing characteristics. We can hardly suppose it to have been
written while any of the ten were alive. But there is among them the name
of Tsze-hsia, who lived to the age of about a hundred. We find him, B.C.
407, three-quarters of a century after the death of Confucius, at the court
of Wei, to the prince of which he is reported to have presented some of the
Classical Books [3].
2. We cannot therefore accept the above account of the origin of the
Analects,-- that they were compiled by the disciples of Confucius. Much
more likely is the view that we owe the work to their disciples. In the note
on I. ii. I, a peculiarity is pointed out in the use of the surnames of Yew Zo
and Tsang Shan, which
1 See Chu Hsi's commentary, in loc. -- 孟敬子, 魯大夫, 仲孫氏, 名捷.
has made some Chinese critics attribute the compilation to their
followers. But this conclusion does not stand investigation. Others have
assigned different portions to different schools. Thus, Book V is given to
the disciples of Tsze-kung; Book XI, to those of Min Tsze-ch'ien; Book XIV,
to Yuan Hsien; and Book XVI has been supposed to be interpolated from
the Analects of Ch'i. Even if we were to acquiesce in these decisions, we
should have accounted only for a small part of the Work. It is best to rest
in the general conclusion, that it was compiled by the disciples of the
disciples of the sage, making free use of the written memorials concerning
him which they had received, and the oral statements which they had
heard, from their several masters. And we shall not be far wrong, if we
determine its date as about the end of the fourth, or the beginning of the
fifth century before Christ.
3. In the critical work on the Four Books, called 'Record of Remarks in
the village of Yung [1],' it is observed, 'The Analects, in my opinion, were
made by the disciples, just like a record of remarks. There they were
recorded, and afterwards came a first-rate hand, who gave them the
beautiful literary finish which we now witness, so that there is not a
character which does not have its own indispensable place [2].' We have
seen that the first of these statements contains only a small amount of
truth with regard to the materials of the Analects, nor can we receive the
second. If one hand or one mind had digested the materials provided by
many, the arrangement and the style of the work would have been
different. We should not have had the same remark appearing in several
Books, with little variation, and sometimes with none at all. Nor can we
account on this supposition for such fragments as the last chapters of the
ninth, tenth, and sixteenth Books, and many others. No definite plan has
been kept in view throughout. A degree of unity appears to belong to some
books more than others, and in general to the first ten more than to those
which follow, but there is no progress of thought or illustration of subject
from Book to Book. And even in those where the chapters have
1 榕村語錄,-- 榕村, 'the village of Yung,' is, I conceive, the writer's nom
de plume. a common subject, they are thrown together at random more than on
any plan.
4. We cannot tell when the Work was first called the Lun Yu [1]. The
evidence in the preceding section is sufficient to prove that when the Han
scholars were engaged in collecting the ancient Books, it came before them,
not in broken tablets, but complete, and arranged in Books or Sections, as
we now have it. The Old copy was found deposited in the wall of the house
which Confucius had occupied, and must have been placed there not later
than B.C. 211, distant from the date which I have assigned to the
compilation, not much more than a century and a half. That copy, written
in the most ancient characters, was, possibly, the autograph of the
compilers.
We have the Writings, or portions of the Writings, of several authors of
the third and fourth centuries before Christ. Of these, in addition to 'The
Great Learning,' 'The Doctrine of the Mean,' and 'The Works of Mencius,' I
have looked over the Works of Hsun Ch'ing [2] of the orthodox school, of
the philosophers Chwang and Lieh of the Taoist school [3], and of the
heresiarch Mo [4].
In the Great Learning, Commentary, chapter iv, we have the words of
Ana. XII. xiii. In the Doctrine of the Mean, ch. iii, we have Ana. VI. xxvii;
and in ch. xxviii. 5, we have substantially Ana. III. ix. In Mencius, II. Pt. I.
ii. 19, we have Ana. VII. xxxiii, and in vii. 2, Ana. IV. i; in III. Pt. I. iv. 11,
Ana. VIII. xviii, xix; in IV. Pt. I. xiv. 1, Ana. XI. xvi. 2; in V. Pt. II. vii. 9,
Ana. X. xiii. 4; and in VII. Pt. II. xxxvii. 1, 2, 8, Ana. V. xxi, XIII. xxi, and
XVII. xiii. These quotations, however, are introduced by 'The Master said,'
or 'Confucius said,' no mention being made of any book called 'The Lun Yu,'
or Analects. In the Great Learning, Commentary, x. 15, we have the words
of Ana. IV. iii, and in
1 In the continuation of the 'General Examination of Records and
Scholars (續文獻通考),' Bk. cxcviii. p. 17, it is said, indeed, on the authority of
Wang Ch'ung (王充), a scholar of our first century, that when the Work
came out of the wall it was named a Chwan or Record (傳), and that it was
when K'ung An-kwo instructed a native of Tsin, named Fu-ch'ing, in it, that
it first got the name of Lun Yu:-- 武帝得論語于孔壁中, 皆名曰傳, 孔安國以古論教
晉人扶卿, 始曰論語. If it were so, it is strange the circumstance is not
mentioned in Ho Yen's preface. Mencius, III. Pt. II. vii. 3, those of Ana. XVII. i, but without any notice of
quotation.
In the writings of Hsun Ch'ing, Book I. page 2, we find something like
the words of Ana. XV. xxx; and on p. 6, part of XIV. xxv. But in these
instances there is no mark of quotation.
In the writings of Chwang, I have noted only one passage where the
words of the Analects are reproduced. Ana. XVIII. v is found, but with
large additions, and no reference of quotation, in his treatise on 'Man in the
World, associated with other Men [1].' In all those Works, as well as in
those of Lieh and Mo, the references to Confucius and his disciples, and to
many circumstances of his life, are numerous [2]. The quotations of sayings
of his not found in the Analects are likewise many, especially in the
Doctrine of the Mean, in Mencius, and in the Works of Chwang. Those in the
latter are mostly burlesques, but those by the orthodox writers have more
or less of classical authority. Some of them may be found in the Chia Yu [3],
or 'Narratives of the School,' and in parts of the Li Chi, while others are
only known to us by their occurrence in these Writings. Altogether, they
do not supply the evidence, for which I am in quest, of the existence of the
Analects as a distinct Work, bearing the name of the Lun Yu, prior to the
Ch'in dynasty. They leave the presumption, however, in favour of those
conclusions, which arises from the facts stated in the first section,
undisturbed. They confirm it rather. They show that there was abundance
of materials at hand to the scholars of Han, to compile a much larger Work
with the same title, if they had felt it their duty to do the business of
compilation, and not that of editing.
SECTION III. 1. It would be a vast and unprofitable labor to attempt to give a list of
the Commentaries which have been published on this Work. My object is
merely to point out how zealously the business of interpretation was
undertaken, as soon as the text had been
1 人間世. recovered by the scholars of the Han dynasty, and with what industry it
has been persevered in down to the present time.
2. Mention has been made, in Section I. 6, of the Lun of prince Chang,
published in the half century before our era. Pao Hsien [1], a distinguished
scholar and officer, f the reign of Kwang-wu [2], the first emperor of the
Eastern Han dynasty, A.D. 25-57, and another scholar of the surname Chau
[3], less known but of the same time, published Works, containing
arrangements of this in chapters and sentences, with explanatory notes.
The critical work of K'ung An-kwo on the old Lun Yu has been referred to.
That was lost in consequence of suspicions under which An-kwo fell
towards the close of the reign of the emperor Wu, but in the time of the
emperor Shun, A.D. 126-144, another scholar, Ma Yung [4], undertook the
exposition of the characters in the old Lun, giving at the same time his
views of the general meaning. The labors of Chang Hsuan in the second
century have been mentioned. Not long after his death, there ensued a
period of anarchy, when the empire was divided into three governments,
well known from the celebrated historical romance, called 'The Three
Kingdoms.' The strongest of them, the House of Wei, patronized literature,
and three of its high officers and scholars, Ch'an Ch'un, Wang Su, and Chau
Shang-lieh [5], in the first half, and probably the second quarter, of the
third century, all gave to the world their notes on the Analects.
Very shortly after, five of the great ministers of the Government of Wei,
Sun Yung, Chang Ch'ung, Tsao Hsi, Hsun K'ai, and Ho Yen [6], united in the
production of one great Work, entitled, 'A Collection of Explanations of the
Lun Yu [7].' It embodied the labors of all the writers which have been
mentioned, and, having been frequently reprinted by succeeding
dynasties, it still remains. The preface of the five compilers, in the form of
a memorial to the emperor, so called, of the House of Wei, is published
with it, and has been of much assistance to me in writing these sections. Ho
1 包咸. Yen was the leader among them, and the work is commonly quoted as if
it were the production of him alone.
3. From Ho Yen downwards, there has hardly been a dynasty which has
not contributed its laborers to the illustration of the Analects. In the Liang,
which occupied the throne a good part of the sixth century, there appeared
the 'Comments of Hwang K'an [1],' who to the seven authorities cited by Ho
Yen added other thirteen, being scholars who had deserved well of the
Classic during the intermediate time. Passing over other dynasties, we
come to the Sung, A.D. 960-1279. An edition of the Classics was published
by imperial authority, about the beginning of the eleventh century, with
the title of 'The Correct Meaning.' The principal scholar engaged in the
undertaking was Hsing P'ing [2]. The portion of it on the Analects [3] is
commonly reprinted in 'The Thirteen Classics,' after Ho Yen's explanations.
But the names of the Sung dynasty are all thrown into the shade by that of
Chu Hsi, than whom China has not produced a greater scholar. He
composed, or his disciples complied, in the twelfth century, three Works on
the Analects:-- the first called 'Collected Meanings [4];' the second,
'Collected Comments [5];' and the third, 'Queries [6].' Nothing could exceed
the grace and clearness of his style, and the influence which he has exerted
on the literature of China has been almost despotic.
The scholars of the present dynasty, however, seem inclined to question
the correctness of his views and interpretations of the Classics, and the
chief place among them is due to Mao Ch'i-ling [7], known by the local
name of Hsi-ho [8]. His writings, under the name of 'The Collected Works of
Hsi-ho [9],' have been published in eighty volumes, containing between
three and four hundred books or sections. He has nine treatises on the Four
Books, or parts of them, and deserves to take rank with Chang Hsuan and
Chu Hsi at the head of Chinese scholars, though he is a vehement opponent
of the latter. Most of his writings are to be found also in the great Work
called 'A Collection of Works on the Classics, under the Imperial dynasty of
Ch'ing [10],' which contains 1400 sections, and is a noble contribution by
the scholars of the present dynasty to the illustration of its ancient
literature.
1 皇侃論語蔬. SECTION IV. In 'The Collection of Supplementary Observations on the Four Books [1],'
the second chapter contains a general view of commentaries on the
Analects, and from it I extract the following list of various readings of the
text found in the comments of Chang Hsuan, and referred to in the first
section of this chapter.
Book II. i, 拱 for 共; viii, 餕 for 饌; xix, 措 for 錯; xxiii. 1, 十世可知, without 也,
for 十世可知也. Book III. vii, in the clause 必也射乎, he makes a full stop at 也;
xxi. 1, 主 for 社. Book IV. x, 敵 for 適, and 慕 for 莫. Book V. xxi, he puts a full
stop at 子. Book VI. vii, he has not the characters 則吾. Book VII. iv, 晏 for 燕
; xxxiv, 子疾 simply, for 子疾病. Book IX. ix, 弁 for 冕. Book XI. xxv. 7, 僎 for 撰
, and 饋 for 歸. Book XIII. iii. 3, 于往 for 迂; xviii. 1, 弓 for 躬. Book XIV. xxxi,
謗 for 方; xxxiv. 1, 何是栖栖者與 for 何為是栖栖者與. Book XV. i. a, 粻 for 糧.
Book XVI. i. 13, 封 for 邦. Book XVII. i, 饋 for 歸; xxiv. 2, 絞 for 徼. Book
XVIII. iv, 饋 for 歸; viii. 1, 侏 for 朱.
These various readings are exceedingly few, and in themselves
insignificant. The student who wishes to pursue this subject at length, is
provided with the means in the Work of Ti Chiao-shau [2], expressly
devoted to it. It forms sections 449-473 of the Works of the Classics,
mentioned at the close of the preceding section. A still more
comprehensive work of the same kind is, 'The Examination of the Text of
the Classics and of Commentaries on them,' published under the
superintendence of Yuan Yuan, forming chapters 818 to 1054 of the same
Collection. Chapters 1016 to 1030 are occupied with the Lun yu; see the
reference to Yuan Yuan farther on, on p. 132.
1 四書拓餘說. Published in 1798. The author was a Tsao Yin-ku -- 曹寅谷.
CHAPTER III. 1. It has already been mentioned that 'The Great Learning' frms one of
the Books of the Li Chi, or 'Record of Rites,' the formation of the text of
which will be treated of in its proper place. I will only say here, that the
Records of Rites had suffered much more, after the death of Confucius,
than the other ancient Classics which were supposed to have been collected
and digested by him. They were in a more dilapidated condition at the
time of the revivial of the ancient literature under the Han dynasty, and
were then published in three collections, only one of which -- the Record of
Rites -- retains its place among the five Ching.
The Record of Rites consists, according to the ordinary arrangement, of
forty-nine Chapters or Books. Liu Hsiang (see ch. I. sect. II. 2) took the lead
in its formation, and was followed by the two famous scholars, Tai Teh [1],
and his relative, Tai Shang [2]. The first of these reduced upwards of 200
chapters, collected by Hsiang, to eighty-nine, and Shang reduced these
again to forty-six. The three other Books were added in the second century
of our era, the Great Learning being one of them, by Ma Yung, mentioned
in the last chapter, section III.2. Since his time, the Work has not received
any further additions.
2. In his note appended to what he calls the chapter of 'Classical Text,'
Chu Hsi says that the tablets of the 'old copies' of the rest of the Great
Learning were considerably out of order. By those old copies, he intends
the Work of Chang Hsuan, who published his commentary on the Classic,
soon after it was completed by the additions of Ma Yung; and t is possible
that the tablets were in confusion, and had not been arranged with
sufficient care; but such a thing does not appear to have been suspected
until the
1 戴德 twelfth century, nor can any evidence from ancient monuments be
adduced in its support.
I have related how the ancient Classics were cut on slabs of stone by
imperial order, A.D. 175, the text being that which the various literati had
determined, and which had been adopted by Chang Hsuan. The same work
was performed about seventy years later, under the so-called dynasty of
Wei, between the years 240 and 248, and the two sets of slabs were set up
together. The only difference between them was, that whereas the Classics
had been cut in the first instance only in one form, the characters in the
slabs of Wei were in three different forms. Amd the changes of dynasties,
the slabs both of Han and Wei had perished, or nearly so, before the rise of
the T'ang dynasty, A.D. 624; but under one of its emperors, in the year
836, a copy of the Classics was again cut on stone, though only in one form
of the character. These slabs we can trace down through the Sung dynasty,
when they were known as the tablets of Shen [1]. They were in exact
conformity with the text of the Classics adopted by Chang Hsuan in his
commentaries; and they exist at the present day at the city of Hsi-an,
Shen-hsi, still called by the same name.
The Sung dynasty did not accomplish a similar work itself, nor did
either of the two which followed it think it necessary to engrave in stone
in this way the ancient Classics. About the middle of the sixteenth century,
however, the literary world in China was startled by a reprt that the slabs
of Wei which contained the Great Learning had been discovered. But this
was nothing more than the result f an impudent attempt at an imposition,
for which it is difficult to a foreigner to assign any adequate cause. The
treatise, as printed from these slabs, has some trifling additions, and many
alterations in the order of the text, but differing from the arrangements
proposed by Chu Hsi, and by other scholars. There seems to be now no
difference of opinion among Chinese critics that the whole affair was a
forgery. The text of the Great Learning, as it appears in the Record of Rites
with the commentary of Chang Hsuan, and was thrice engraved on stone, in
three different dynasties, is, no doubt, that which was edited in the Han
dynasty by Ma Yung.
3. I have said, that it is possible that the tablets containing the
1 陜碑. text were not arranged with sufficient care by him; and indeed, any one
who studies the treatise attentively, will probably come to the conclusion
that the part of it forming the first six chapters of commentary in the
present Work is but a fragment. It would not be a difficult task to propose
an arrangement of the text different from any which I have yet seen; but
such an undertaking would not be interesting out of China. My object here
is simply to mention the Chinese scholars wh have rendered themselves
famous or notorious in their own country by what they hav done in this
way. The first was Ch'ang Hao, a native of Lo-yang in Ho-nan Province, in
the eleventh century [1]. His designation of Po-shun, but since his death he
has been known chiefly by the style of Ming-tao [2], which we may render
the Wise-in-doctrine. The eulogies heaped on him by Chu Hsi and others
are extravagant, and he is placed immediately after Mencious in the list of
great scholars. Doubtless he was a man of vast literary acquirements. The
greatest change which he introduced into the Great Learning, was to read
sin [3] for ch'in [4], at the commencement, making the second
object proposed in the treatise to be the renovation of the people,
instead of loving them. This alteration and his various transpositions
of the text are found in Mao Hsi-ho's treatise on 'The Attested Text of the
Great Learning [5].'
Hardly less illustrious than Ch'ang Hao was his younger brother Ch'ang
I, known by the style of Chang-shu [6], and since his death by that of
I-chwan [7]. He followed Hao in the adoption of the reading 'to
renovate,' instead of 'to love.' But he transposed the text
differently, more akin to the arrangement afterwards made by Chu Hsi,
suggesting also that there were some superfluous sentences in the old text
which might conveniently be erased. The Work, as proposed to be read by
him, will be found in the volume of Mao just referred to.
We come to the name of Chu Hsi who entered into the labors of the
brothers Ch'ang, the young of whom he styles his Master, in his
introductory note to the Great Learning. His arrangement of the text is that
now current in all the editions of the Four Books, and it had nearly
displaced the ancient text
1 程子顥,字伯淳,河南,洛陽人. altogether. The sanction of Imperial approval was given to it during the
Yuan and Ming dynasties. In the editions of the Five Ching published
by them, only the names of the Doctrine of the Mean and the Great
Learning were preserved. No text of these Books was given, and Hsi-ho
tells us that in the reign of Chia-ching [1], the most flourishing period of
the Ming dynasty (A.D. 1522-1566), when Wang Wan-ch'ang [2] published
a copy of the Great Learning, taken from the T'ang edition of the Thirteen
Ching, all the officers and scholars looked at one another in
astonishment, and were inclined to supposed that the Work was a forgery.
Besides adopting the reading of sin for ch'in from the Ch'ang,
and modifying their arrangements of the text, Chu Hsi made other
innovations. He first divided the whole into one chapter of Classical text,
which he assigned to Confucius, and then chapters of Commentary, which
he assigned to the disciple Tsang. Previous to him, the whole had been
published, indeed, without any specification of chapters and paragraphs.
He undertook, moreover, to supply one whole chapter, which he supposed,
after his master Ch'ang, to be missing.
Since the time of Chu Hsi, many scholars have exercised their wit on the
Great Learning. The work of Mao Hsi-ho contains four arrangements of the
text, proposed respectively by the scholars Wang Lu-chai [3], Chi P'ang-
shan [4], Kao Ching-yi [5], and Ko Ch'i-chan [6]. The curious student may
examine them here.
Under the present dynasty, the tendency has been to depreciate the
labors of Chu Hsi. The integrity of the text of Chang Hsuan is zealously
maintained, and the simpler method of interpretation employed by him is
advocated in preference to the more refined and ingenious schemes of the
Sung scholars. I have referred several times in the notes to a Work
published a few years ago, under the title of 'The Old Text of the sacred
Ching, with Commentary and Discussions, by Lo Chung-fan of Nan-hai
[7].' I knew the man many years ago. He was a fine scholar, and had taken
the second degree, or that of Chu-zan. He applied to me in 1843 for
Christian baptism, and, offended by my hesitancy, went and enrolled
himself among the disciples of another missionary. He soon, however,
1 嘉靖. withdrew into seclusion, and spent the last years of his life in literary
studies. His family have published the Work on the Great Learning, and
one or two others. He most vehemently impugns nearly every judgment of
Chu Hsi; but in his own exhibitions of the meaning he blends many ideas of
the Supreme Being and of the condition of human nature, which he had
learned from the Christian Scriptures.
SECTION II. 1. The authorship of the Great Learning is a very doubtful point, and
one on which it does not appear possible to come to a decided conclusion.
Chu Hsi, as I have stated in the last section, determined that so much of it
was Ching, or Classic, being the very words of Confucius, and that all
the rest was Chwan, or Commentary, being the views of Tsang Shan
upon the sage's words, recorded by his disciples. Thus, he does not
expressly attribute the composition of the Treatise to Tsang, as he is
generally supposed to do. What he says, however, as it is destitute of
external support, is contrary also to the internal evidence. The fourth
chapter of commentary commences with 'The Master said.' Surely, if there
were anything more, directly from Confucius, there would be an intimation
of it in the same way. Or, if we may allow that short sayings of Confucius
might be interwoven with the Work, as in the fifteenth paragraph of the
tenth chapter, without referring them expressly to him, it is too much to
ask us to receive the long chapter at the beginning as being from him. With
regard to the Work having come from the disciples of Tsang Shan,
recording their master's views, the paragraph in chapter sixth,
commencing with 'The disciple Tsang said,' seems to be conclusive against
such an hypothesis. So much we may be sure is Tsang's, and no more. Both
of Chu Hsi's judgments must be set aside. We cannot admit either the
distinction of the contents into Classical text and Commentary, or that the
Work was the production of Tsang's disciples.
2. Who then was the author? An ancient tradition attributes it to K'ung
Chi, the grandson of Confucius. In a notice published, at the time of their
preparation, about the stone slabs of Wei, the
following statement by Chia K'wei, a noted scholar of the first century, is
found:-- 'When K'ung Chi was living, and in straits, in Sung, being afraid
lest the lessons of the former sages should become obscure, and the
principles of the ancient sovereigns and kings fall to the ground, he
therefore made the Great Learning as the warp of them, and the Doctrine
of the Mean as the woof [1].' This would seem, therefore, to have been the
opinion of that early time, and I may say the only difficulty in admitting it
is that no mention is made of it by Chang Hsuan. There certainly is that
agreement between the two treatises, which makes their common
authorship not at all unlikely.
3. Though we cannot positively assign the authorship of the Great
Learning, there can be no hesitation in receiving it as a genuine monument
of the Confucian school. There are not many words in it from the sage
himself, but it is a faithful reflection of his teachings, written by some of
his followers, not far removed from him by lapse of time. It must
synchronize pretty nearly with the Analects, and may be safely referred to
the fifth century before our era.
SECTION III. 1. The worth of the Great Learning has been celebrated in most
extravagant terms by Chinese writers, and there have been foreigners who
have not yielded to them in their estimation of it. Pauthier, in the
'Argument Philosphique,' prefixed to his translation of the Work, says:-- 'It
is evident that the aim of the Chinese philosopher is to exhibit the duties of
political government as those of the perfecting of self, and of the practice
of virtue by all men. He felt that he had a higher mission than that with
which the greater part of ancient and modern philosophers have contented
themselves; and his immense love for the happiness of humanity, which
dominated over all his other sentiments, has made of his
1 唐氏秦疏有曰,虞松校刻石經于魏表,引漢賈逵之言,曰,孔伋窮居于宋,懼先聖之學不
明,而帝王之道墜,故作大學以經之,中庸以緯之; see the 大學證文,一, p. 5. philosophy a system of social perfectionating, which, we venture to say,
has never been equalled.'
Very different is the judgment passed upon the treatise by a writer in
the Chinese Repository: 'The Ta Hsio is a short politico-moral
discourse. Ta Hsio, or "Superior Learning," is at the same time both
the name and the subject of the discourse; it is the summum bonum
of the Chinese. In opening this Book, compiled by a disciple of Confucius,
and containing his doctrines, we might expect to find a work like Cicero's
De Officiis; but we find a very different production, consisting of a
few commonplace rules for the maintenance of a good government [1].'
My readers will perhaps think, after reading the present section, that
the truth lies between these two representations.
2. I believe that the Book should be styled T'ai Hsio [2], and not
Ta Hsio, and that it was so named as setting forth the higher and
more extensive principles of moral science, which come into use and
manifestation in the conduct of government. When Chu Shi endeavours to
make the title mean -- 'The principles of Learning, which were taught in
the higher schools of antiquity,' and tells us how at the age of fifteen, all
the sons of the sovereign, with the legitimate sons of the nobles, and high
officers, down to the more promising scions of the common people, all
entered these seminaries, and were taught the difficult lessons here
inculcated, we pity the ancient youth of China. Such 'strong meat' is not
adapted for the nourishment of youthful minds. But the evidence adduced
for the existence of such educational institutions in ancient times is
unsatisfactory, and from the older interpretation of the title we advance
more easily to contemplate the object and method of the Work.
3. The object is stated definitely enough in the opening paragraph:
'What the Great Learning teaches, is -- to illustrate illustrious virtue; to
love the people; and to rest in the highest excellence.' The political aim of
the writer is here at once evident. He has before him on one side, the
people, the masses of the empire, and over against them are those
whose work and duty, delegated by Heaven, is to govern them,
culminating, as a class, in 'the son of Heaven [3],' 'the One man [4],' the
sovereign. From the fourth and
1 Chinese Repository, vol. iii. p. 98 fifth paragraphs, we see that if the lessons of the treatise be learned
and carried into practice, the result will be that 'illustrious virtue will be
illustrated throughout the nation,' which will be brought, through all its
length and breadth, to a condition of happy tranquillity. This object is
certainly both grand and good; annd if a reasonable and likely method to
secure it were proposed in the Work, language would hardly supply terms
adequate to express its value.
4. But the above account of the object of the Great Learning leads us to
the conclusion that the student of it should be a sovereign. What interest
can an ordinary man have in it? It is high up in the clouds, far beyond his
reach. This is a serious objection to it, and quite unfits it for a place in
schools, such as Chu Hsi contends it once had. Intelligent Chinese, whose
minds were somewhat quickened by Christianity, have spoken to me of
this defect, and complained of the difficulty they felt in making the book a
practical directory for their conduct. 'It is so vague and vast,' was the
observation of one man. The writer, however, has made some provision for
the general application of his instructions. He tells us that, from the
sovereign down to the mass of the people, all must consider the cultivation
of the person to be the root, that is, the first thing to be attended to [1]. _as
in his method, moreover, he reaches from the cultivation of the person to
the tranquillization of the kingdom, through the intermediate steps of the
regulation of the family, and the government of the State [2], there is room
for setting forth principles that parents and rulers generally may find
adapted for their guidance.
5. The method which is laid down for the attainment of the great object
proposed, consists of seven steps:-- the investigation of things; the
completion of knowledge; the sincerity of the thoughts; the rectifying of
the heart; the cultivation of the person; the regulation of the family; and
the government of the state. These form the steps of a climax, the end of
which is the kingdom tranquillized. Pauthier calls the paragraphs where
they occur instances of the sorites, or abridged syllogism. But they elong to
rhetoric, and not to logic.
6. In offering some observations on these steps, and the writer's
treatment of them, it will be well to separate them into those preceding
the cultivation of the person, and those following it; and to
1 Cl. Text, par. 6. deal with the latter first. -- Let us suppose that the cultivation of the
person is fully attained, every discordant mental element having been
subdued and removed. It is assumed that the regulation of the family will
necessarily flow from this. Two short paragraphs are all that are given to
the illustration of the point, and they are vague generalities on the subject
of men's being led astray by their feelings and affections.
The family being regulated, there will result from it the government of
the State. First, the virtues taught in the family have their
correspondencies in the wider sphere. Filial piety will appear as loyalty.
Fraternal submission will be seen in respect and obedience to elders and
superiors. Kindness is capable of universal application. Second, 'From the
loving example of one family, a whole State becomes loving, and from its
courtesies the whole State become courteous [1].' Seven paragraphs suffice
to illustrate these statements, and short as they are, the writer goes back
to the topic of self-cultivation, returning from the family to the individual.
The State being governed, the whole empire will become peaceful and
happy. There is even less of connexion, however, in the treatment of this
theme, between the premiss and the conclusion, than in the two previous
chapters. Nothing is said about the relation between the whole kingdom,
and its component States, or any one of them. It is said at once, 'What is
meant by "The making the whole kingdom peaceful and happy depends on
the government of the State," is this:-- When the sovereign behaves to his
aged, as the aged should be behaved to, the people become filial; when the
sovereign behaves to his elders, as elders should be behaved to, the people
learn brotherly submission; when the sovereign treats compassionately the
young and helpless, the people do the same [2].' This is nothing but a
repetition of the preceding chapter, instead of that chapter's being made a
step from which to go on to the splendid consummation of the good
government of the whole kingdom.
The words which I have quoted are followed by a very striking
enunciation of the golden rule in its negative form, and under the name of
the measuring square, and all the lessons of the chapter are
connected more or less closely with that. The application of this principle
by a ruler, whose heart is in the first place in loving sympathy with the
people, will guide him in all the exactions which
1 See Comm. ix. 3. he lays upon them, and in his selection of ministers, in such a way that
he will secure the affections of his subjects, and his throne will be
established, for 'by gaining the people, the kingdom is gained, and, by
losing the people, the kingdom is lost [1].' There are in this part of the
treatise many valuable sentiments, and counsels for all in authority over
others. The objection to it is, that, as the last step of the climax, it does not
rise upon all the others with the accumulated force of their conclusions,
but introduces us to new principles of action, and a new line of argument.
Cut off the commencement of the first paragraph which connects it with
the preceding chapters, and it would form a brief but admirable treatise
by itself on the art of government.
This brief review of the writer's treatment of the concluding steps of his
method will satisfy the reader that the execution is not equal to the design;
and, moreover, underneath all the reasoning, and more especially apparent
in the eighth and ninth chapters of commentary (according to the ordinary
arrangement of the work), there lies the assumption that example is all but
omnipotent. We find this principle pervading all the Confucian philosophy.
And doubtless it is a truth, most important in education and government,
that the influence of example is very great. I believe, and will insist upon
it hereafter in these prolegomena, that we have come to overlook this
element in our conduct of administration. It will be well if the study of the
Chinese Classics should call attention to it. Yet in them the subject is
pushed to an extreme, and represented in an extravagant manner.
Proceeding from the view of human nature that it is entirely good, and led
astray only by influences from without, the sage of China and his followers
attribute to personal example and to instruction a power which we do not
find that they actually possess.
7. The steps which precede the cultivation of the person are more
briefly dealt with than those which we have just considered. 'The
cultivation of the person results from the rectifying of the heart or mind
[2].' True, but in the Great Learning very inadequately set forth.
'The rectifying of the mind is realized when the thoughts are made
sincere [3].' And the thoughts are sincere, when no self-deception is
allowed, and we move without effort to what is right and wrong, 'as we
love what is beautiful, and as we dislike a bad
1 Comm. x. 5. smell [1].' How are we to attain this state? Here the Chinese moralist
fails us. According to Chu Hsi's arrangement of the Treatise, there is only
one sentence from which we can frame a reply to the above question.
'Therefore,' it is said, 'the superior man must be watchful over himself
when he is alone [2].' Following. Chu's sixth chapter of commentary, and
forming, we may say, part of it, we have in the old arrangement of the
Great Learning all the passages which he has distributed so as to form the
previous five chapters. But even from the examination of them, we do not
obtain the information which we desire on this momentous inquiry.
8. Indeed, the more I study the Work, the more satisfied I become, that
from the conclusion of what is now called the chapter of classical text to
the sixth chapter of commentary, we have only a few fragments, which it
is of no use trying to arrange, so as fairly to exhibit the plan of the author.
According to his method, the chapter on the connexion between making
the thoughts sincere and so rectifying the mental nature, should be
preceded by one on the completion of knowledge as the means of making
the thoughts sincere, and that again by one on the completion of
knowledge by the investigation of things, or whatever else the phrase ko
wu may mean. I am less concerned for the loss and injury which this
part of the Work has suffered, because the subject of the connexion
between intelligence and virtue is very fully exhibited in the Doctrine of
the Mean, and will come under our notice in the review of that Treatise.
The manner in which Chu Hsi has endeavoured to supply the blank about
the perfecting of knowledge by the investigation of things is too
extravagant. 'The Learning for Adults,' he says, 'at the outset of its lessons,
instructs the learner, in regard to all things in the world, to proceed from
what knowledge he has of their principles, and pursue his investigation of
them, till he reaches the extreme point. After exerting himself for a long
time, he will suddenly find himself possessed of a wide and far-reaching
penetration. Then, the qualities of all things, whether external or internal,
the subtle or the coarse, will be apprehended, and the mind, in its entire
substance and its relations to things, will be perfectly intelligent. This is
called the investigation of things. This is called the perfection of knowledge
[3].' And knowledge must be thus perfected before we can achieve the
sincerity of our thoughts, and the rectifying of our hearts!
1 Comm. vi. 1. Verily this would be learning not for adults only, but even Methuselahs
would not be able to compass it. Yet for centuries this has been accepted as
the orthodox exposition of the Classic. Lo Chung-fan does not express
himself too strongly when he says that such language is altogether
incoherent. The author would only be 'imposing on himself and others.'
9. The orthodox doctrine of China concerning the connexion between
intelligence and virtue is most seriously erroneous, but I will not lay to the
charge of the author of the Great Learning the wild representations of the
commentator of our twelfth century, nor need I make here any remarks on
what the doctrine really is. After the exhibition which I have given, my
readers will probably conclude that the Work before us is far from
developing, as Pauthier asserts, 'a system of social perfectionating which
has never been equalled.'
10. The Treatise has undoubtedly great merits, but they are not to be
sought in the severity of its logical processes, or the large-minded
prosecution of any course of thought. We shall find them in the
announcement of certain seminal principles, which, if recognised in
government and the regulation of conduct, would conduce greatly to the
happiness and virtue of mankind. I will conclude these observations by
specifying four such principles.
First. The writer conceives nobly of the object of government, that it is
to make its subjects happy and good. This may not be a sufficient account
of that object, but it is much to have it so clearly laid down to 'all kings and
governors,' that they are to love the people, ruling not for their own
gratification but for the good of those over whom they are exalted by
Heaven. Very important also is the statement that rulers have no divine
right but what springs from the discharge of their duty. 'The decree does
not always rest on them. Goodness obtains it, and the want of goodness
loses it [1].'
Second. The insisting on personal excellence in all who have authority in
the family, the state, and the kingdom, is a great moral and social principle.
The influence of such personal excellence may be overstated, but by the
requirement of its cultivation the writer deserved well of his country.
Third. Still more important than the requirement of such excellence, is
the principle that it must be rooted in the state of
1 Comm. x. 11. the heart, and be the natural outgrowth of internal sincerity. 'As a man
thinketh in his heart, so is he.' This is the teaching alike of Solomon and the
author of the Great Learning.
Fourth. I mention last the striking exhibition which we have of the
golden rule, though only in its negative form:-- 'What a man dislikes in his
superiors, let him not display in the treatment of his inferiors; what he
dislikes in inferiors, let him not display in his service of his superiors; what
he dislikes in those who are before him, let him not therewith precede
those who are behind him; what he dislikes in those who are behind him,
let him not therewith follow those who are before him; what he dislikes to
receive on the right, let him not bestow on the left; what he dislikes to
receive on the left, let him not bestow on the right. This is what is called
the principle with which, as with a measuring square, to regulate one's
conduct [1].' The Work which contains those principles cannot be thought
meanly of. They are 'commonplace,' as the writer in the Chinese Repository
calls them, but they are at the same time eternal verities.
l Comm. x. a. CHAPTER IV. 1. The Doctrine of the Mean was one of the treatises which came to light
in connexion with the labors of Liu Hsiang, and its place as the thirty-first
Book in the Li Chi was finally determined by Ma Yung and Chang Hsuan. In
the translation of the Li Chi in 'The Sacred Books of the East' it is the
twenty-eighth Treatise.
2. But while it was thus made to form a part of the great collection of
Treatises on Ceremonies, it maintained a separate footing of its own. In Liu
Hsin's Catalogue of the Classical Works, we find 'Two p'ien of
Observations on the Chung Yung [l].' In the Records of the dynasty of Sui
(A.D. 589-618), in the chapter on the History of Literature [2], there are
mentioned three Works on the Chung Yung;-- the first called 'The Record of
the Chung Yung,' in two chuan, attributed to Tai Yung, a scholar who
flourished about the middle of the fifth century; the second, 'A Paraphrase
and Commentary on the Chung Yung,' attributed to the emperor Wu (A.D.
502-549) of the Liang dynasty, in one chuan ; and the third, 'A
Private Record, Determining the Meaning of the Chung Yung,' in five
chuan, the author, or supposed author, of which is not mentioned [3].
It thus appears, that the Chung Yung had been published and
commented on separately, long before the time of the Sung dynasty. The
scholars of that, however, devoted special attention to it, the way being led
by the famous Chau Lien-ch'i [4]. He was followed by the two brothers
Ch'ang, but neither of them published upon it. At last came Chu Hsi, who
produced his Work called
1 中庸說二篇. 'The Chung Yung, in Chapters and Sentences [1],' which was made the
text book of the Classic at the literary examinations, by the fourth emperor
of the Yuan dynasty (A.D. 1312-1320), and from that time the name
merely of the Treatise was retained in editions of the Li Chi. Neither text
nor ancient commentary was given.
Under the present dynasty it is not so. In the superb edition of 'The
Three Li Ching,' edited by numerous committees of scholars towards
the middle of the Ch'ien-lung reign, the Chung Yung is published in two
parts, the ancient commentaries from 'The Thirteen Ching' being
given side by side with those of Chu Hsi.
SECTION II. 1. The composition of the Chung Yung is attributed to K'ung Chi, the
grandson of Confucius [2]. Chinese inquirers and critics are agreed on this
point, and apparently on sufficient grounds. There is indeed no internal
evidence in the Work to lead us to such a conclusion. Among the many
quotations of Confucius's words and references to him, we might have
expected to find some indication that the sage was the grandfather of the
author, but nothing of the kind is given. The external evidence, however,
or that from the testimony of authorities, is very strong. In Sze-ma Ch'ien's
Historical Records, published about B.C. 100, it is expressly said that 'Tsze-
sze made the Chung Yung.' And we have a still stronger proof, a century
earlier, from Tsze-sze's own descendant, K'ung Fu, whose words are, 'Tsze-
sze compiled the Chung Yung in forty-nine p'ien [3].' We may,
therefore, accept the received account without hesitation.
2. As Chi, spoken of chiefly by his designation of Tsze-sze, thus occupies
a distinguished place in the classical literature of China, it
1 中庸章句. may not be out of place to bring together here a few notices of him
gathered from reliable sources.
He was the son of Li, whose death took place B.C. 483, four years before
that of the sage, his father. I have not found it recorded in what year he
was born. Sze-ma Ch'ien says he died at the age of 62. But this is evidently
wrong, for we learn from Mencius that he was high in favour with the
duke Mu of Lu [1], whose accession to that principality dates in B.C. 409,
seventy years after the death of Confucius. In the 'Plates and Notices of the
Worthies, sacrificed to in the Sage's Temples [2],' it is supposed that the
sixty-two in the Historical Records should be eighty-two [3]. It is
maintained by others that Tsze-sze's life was protracted beyond 100 years
[4]. This variety of opinions simply shows that the point cannot be
positively determined. To me it seems that the conjecture in the Sacrificial
Canon must be pretty near the truth [5].
During the years of his boyhood, then, Tsze-sze must have been with his
grandfather, and received his instructions. It is related, that one day, when
he was alone with the sage, and heard him sighing, he went up to him, and,
bowing twice, inquired the reason of his grief. 'Is it,' said he, 'because you
think that your descendants, through not cultivating themselves, will be
unworthy of you? Or is it that, in your admiration of the ways of Yao and
Shun, you are vexed that you fall short of them?' 'Child,' replied Confucius,
'how is it that you know my thoughts?' 'I have often,' said Tsze-sze, 'heard
from you the lesson, that when the father has gathered and prepared the
firewood, if the son cannot carry the bundle, he is to be pronounced
degenerate and unworthy. The remark comes frequently into my thoughts,
and fills me with great apprehensions.' The sage was delighted. He
1. 魯穆(or 繆)公. smiled and said, 'Now, indeed, shall I be without anxiety! My
undertakings will not come to naught. They will be carried on and flourish
[1].' After the death of Confucius, Chi became a pupil, it is said, of the
philosopher Tsang. But he received his instructions with discrimination,
and in one instance which is recorded in the Li Chi, the pupil suddenly took
the place of the master. We there read: 'Tsang said to Tsze-sze, "Chi, when I
was engaged in mourning for my parents, neither congee nor water
entered my mouth for seven days." Tsze-sze answered, "In ordering their
rules of propriety, it was the design of the ancient kings that those who
would go beyond them should stoop and keep by them, and that those who
could hardly reach them should stand on tiptoe to do so. Thus it is that the
superior man, in mourning for his parents, when he has been three days
without water or congee, takes a staff to enable himself to rise [2]."'
While he thus condemned the severe discipline of Tsang, Tsze-sze
appears, in various incidents which are related of him, to have been
himself more than sufficiently ascetic. As he was living in great poverty, a
friend supplied him with grain, which he readily received. Another friend
was emboldened by this to send him a bottle of spirits, but he declined to
receive it.' You receive your corn from other people,' urged the donor, 'and
why should you decline my gift, which is of less value? You can assign no
ground in reason for it, and if you wish to show your independence, you
should do so completely.' 'I am so poor,' was the reply, 'as to be in want,
and being afraid lest I should die and the sacrifices not be offered to my
ancestors, I accept the grain as an alms. But the spirits and the dried flesh
which you offer to me are the appliances of a feast. For a poor man to be
feasting is certainly unreasonable. This is the ground of my refusing your
gift. I have no thought of asserting my independence [3].'
To the same effect is the account of Tsze-sze, which we have from Liu
Hsiang. That scholar relates:-- 'When Chi was living in Wei, he wore a
tattered coat, without any lining, and in thirty days had only nine meals.
T'ien Tsze-fang having heard of his
1 See the 四書集證, in the place just quoted from. For the incident we are
indebted to K'ung Fu; see note 3, p. 36. distress, sent a messenger to him with a coat of fox-fur, and being
afraid that he might not receive it, he added the message,-- "When I
borrow from a man, I forget it; when I give a thing, I part with it freely as
if I threw it away." Tsze-sze declined the gift thus offered, and when Tsze-
fang said, "I have, and you have not; why will you not take it?" he replied,
"You give away as rashly as if you were casting your things into a ditch.
Poor as I am, I cannot think of my body as a ditch, and do not presume to
accept your gift [1]." 'Tsze-sze's mother married again, after Li's death, into
a family of Wei. But this circumstance, which is not at all creditable in
Chinese estimation, did not alienate his affections from her. He was in Lu
when he heard of her death, and proceeded to weep in the temple of his
family. A disciple came to him and said, 'Your mother married again into
the family of the Shu, and do you weep for her in the temple of the K'ung?'
'I am wrong,' said Tsze-sze, 'I am wrong;' and with these words he went to
weep elsewhere [2].
In his own married relation he does not seem to have been happy, and
for some cause, which has not been transmitted to us, he divorced his wife,
following in this, it has been wrongly said, the example of Confucius. On
her death, her son, Tsze-shang [3], did not undertake any mourning for
her. Tsze-sze's disciples were surprised and questioned him. 'Did your
predecessor, a superior man,' they asked, 'mourn for his mother who had
been divorced?' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'Then why do you not cause Pai [4] to
mourn for his mother?' Tsze-sze answered, 'My progenitor, a superior man,
failed in nothing to pursue the proper path. His observances increased or
decreased as the case required. But I cannot attain to this. While she was
my wife, she was Pai's mother; when she ceased to be my wife, she ceased
to be Pai's mother.' The custom of the K'ung family not to mourn for a
mother who had been divorced, took its rise from Tsze-sze [5].
These few notices of K'ung Chi in his more private relations bring him
before us as a man of strong feeling and strong will, independent, and with
a tendency to asceticism in his habits.
1 See the 四書集證, as above. As a public character, we find him at the ducal courts of Wei, Sung; Lu,
and Pi, and at each of them held in high esteem by the rulers. To Wei he
was carried probably by the fact of his mother having married into that
State. We are told that the prince of Wei received him with great
distinction and lodged him honourably. On one occasion he said to him, 'An
officer of the State of Lu, you have not despised this small and narrow Wei,
but have bent your steps hither to comfort and preserve it; vouchsafe to
confer your benefits upon me.' Tsze-sze replied. 'If I should wish to requite
your princely favour with money and silks, your treasuries are already full
of them, and I am poor. If I should wish to requite it with good words, I
am afraid that what I should say would not suit your ideas, so that I
should speak in vain and not be listened to. The only way in which I can
requite it, is by recommending to your notice men of worth.' The duke
said. 'Men of worth are exactly what I desire.' 'Nay,' said Chi. 'you are not
able to appreciate them.' 'Nevertheless,' was the reply, 'I should like to
hear whom you consider deserving that name.' Tsze-sze replied, 'Do you
wish to select your officers for the name they may have or for their
reality?' 'For their reality, certainly,' said the duke. His guest then said, 'In
the eastern borders of your State, there is one Li Yin, who is a man of real
worth.' 'What were his grandfather and father?' asked the duke. 'They
were husbandmen,' was the reply, on which the duke broke into a loud
laugh, saying, ' I do not like husbandry. The son of a husbandman cannot
be fit for me to employ. I do not put into office all the cadets of those
families even in which office is hereditary.' Tsze-sze observed, 'I mention
Li Yin because of his abilities; what has the fact of his forefathers being
husbandmen to do with the case? And moreover, the duke of Chau was a
great sage, and K'ang-shu was a great worthy. Yet if you examine their
beginnings, you will find that from the business of husbandry they came
forth to found their States. I did certainly have my doubts that in the
selection of your officers you did not have regard to their real character
and capacity.' With this the conversation ended. The duke was silent [1].
Tsze-sze was naturally led to Sung, as the K'ung family originally sprang
from that principality. One account, quoted in 'The
1 See the 氏姓譜,卷一百二,孔氏,孔伋. Four Books, Text and Commentary, with Proofs and Illustrations [1],'
says that he went thither in his sixteenth year, and having foiled an officer
of the State, named Yo So, in a conversation on the Shu Ching, his opponent
was so irritated at the disgrace put on him by a youth, that he listened to
the advice of evil counsellors, and made an attack on him to put him to
death. The duke of Sung, hearing the tumult, hurried to the rescue, and
when Chi found himself in safety, he said, 'When king Wan was imprisoned
in Yu-li, he made the Yi of Chau. My grandfather made the Ch'un Ch'iu
after he had been in danger in Ch'an and Ts'ai. Shall I not make something
when rescued from such a risk in Sung?' Upon this he made the Chung
Yung in forty-nine p'ien.
According to this account, the Chung Yung was the work of Tsze-sze's
early manhood, and the tradition has obtained a wonderful prevalence.
The notice in 'The Sacrificial Canon' says, on the contrary, that it was the
work of his old age, when he had finally settled in Lu, which is much more
likely [2].
Of Tsze-sze in Pi, which could hardly be said to be out of Lu, we have
only one short notice,-- in Mencius, V. Pt. II. iii. 3, where the duke Hui of Pi
is introduced as saying, 'I treat Tsze-sze as my master.'
We have fuller accounts of him in Lu, where he spent all the latter
years of his life, instructing his disciples to the number of several hundred
[3], and held in great reverence by the duke Mu. The duke indeed wanted
to raise him to the highest office, but he declined this, and would only
occupy the position of a 'guide, philosopher, and friend.' Of the attention
which he demanded, however, instances will he found in Mencius, II. Pt. II.
xi. 3; V. Pt. II. vi. 4, and vii. 4. In his intercourse with the duke he spoke
the truth to him fearlessly. In the 'Cyclopaedia of Surnames [4],' I find the
following conversations, but I cannot tell from what source they are
extracted into that Work.-- 'One day, the duke said to Tsze-sze, "The officer
Hsien told me that you do good without
1 This is the Work so often referred to as the 四書集證, the full title
being 四書經註集證. The passage here translated from it will be found in the
place several times referred to in this section. wishing for any praise from men;-- is it so?" Tsze-sze replied, "No, that
is not my feeling. When I cultivate what is good, I wish men to know it, for
when they know it and praise me, I feel encouraged to be more zealous in
the cultivation. This is what I desire, and am not able to obtain. If I
cultivate what is good, and men do not know it, it is likely that in their
ignorance they will speak evil of me. So by my good-doing I only come to
be evil spoken of. This is what I do not desire, but am not able to avoid. In
the case of a man, who gets up at cock-crowing to practise what is good
and continues sedulous in the endeavour till midnight, and says at the
same time that he does not wish men to know it, lest they should praise
him, I must say of such a man, that, if he be not deceitful, he is stupid."'
Another day, the duke asked Tsze-sze, saying, 'Can my state be made to
flourish?' 'It may,' was the reply. 'And how?' Tsze-sze said, 'O prince, if you
and your ministers will only strive to realize the government of the duke
of Chau and of Po-ch'in; practising their transforming principles, sending
forth wide the favours of your ducal house, and not letting advantages
flow in private channels; if you will thus conciliate the affections of the
people, and at the same time cultivate friendly relations with neighboring
states, your state will soon begin to flourish.'
On one occasion, the duke asked whether it had been the custom of old
for ministers to go into mourning for a prince whose service and state they
had left. Tsze-sze replied to him, 'Of old, princes advanced their ministers
to office according to propriety, and dismissed them in the same way, and
hence there was that rule. But now-a-days, princes bring their ministers
forward as if they were going to take them on their knees, and send them
away as if they would cast them into an abyss. If they do not treat them as
their greatest enemies, it is well.-- How can you expect the ancient practice
to be observed in such circumstances [1]?'
These instances may suffice to illustrate the character of Tsze-sze, as it
was displayed in his intercourse with the princes of his time. We see the
same independence which he affected in private life, and a dignity not
unbecoming the grandson of Confucius. But we miss the reach of thought
and capacity for administration which belonged to the Sage. It is with him,
how-
1 This conversation is given in the Li Chi, II. Sect. II. Pt. ii, 1. ever, as a thinker and writer that we have to do, and his rank in that
capacity will appear from the examination of the Chung Yung in the section
iv below. His place in the temples of the Sage has been that of one of his
four assessors, since the year 1267. He ranks with Yen Hui, Tsang Shan,
and Mencius, and bears the title of 'The Philosopher Tsze-sze, Transmitter
of the Sage [1].'
SECTION III. In the testimony of K'ung Fu, which has been adduced to prove the
authorship of the Chung Yung, it is said that the Work consisted originally
of forty-nine p'ien. From this statement it is argued by some, that the
arrangement of it in thirty-three chapters, which originated with Chu Hsi,
is wrong [2]; but this does not affect the question of integrity, and the
character p'ien is so vague and indefinite, that we cannot affirm that
K'ung Fu meant to tell us by it that Tsze-sze himself divided his Treatise
into so many paragraphs or chapters.
It is on the entry in Liu Hsin's Catalogue, quoted section i,-- 'Two
p'ien of Observations on the Chung Yung,' that the integrity of the
present Work is called in question. Yen Sze-ku, of the Tang dynasty, has a
note on that entry to the effect:-- 'There is now the Chung Yung in the Li
Chi in one p'ien. But that is not the original Treatise here mentioned,
but only a branch from it [3]' Wang Wei, a writer of the Ming dynasty,
says:-- 'Anciently, the Chung Yung consisted of two p'ien, as appears
from the History of Literature of the Han dynasty, but in the Li Chi we
have only one p'ien, which Chu Hsi, when he made his "Chapters and
Sentences," divided into thirty-three chapters. The old Work in two
p'ien is not to be met with now [4].'
These views are based on a misinterpretation of the entry in the
1 述聖子思子. Catalogue. It does not speak of two p'ien of the Chung Yung, but of
two p'ien of Observations thereon. The Great Learning
carries on its front the evidence of being incomplete, but the student will
not easily believe that the Doctrine of the Mean is so. I see no reason for
calling its integrity in question, and no necessity therefore to recur to the
ingenious device employed in the edition of the five ching published
by the imperial authority of K'ang Hsi, to get over the difficulty which
Wang Wei supposes. It there appears in two p'ien, of which we have
the following account from the author of 'Supplemental Remarks upon the
Four Books:'-- 'The proper course now is to consider the first twenty
chapters in Chu Hsi's arrangement as making up the first p'ien, and
the remaining thirteen as forming the second. In this way we retain the
old form of the Treatise, and do not come into collision with the views of
Chu. For this suggestion we are indebted to Lu Wang-chai' (an author of
the Sung dynasty ) [1].
SECTION IV. 1. The Doctrine of the Mean is a work not easy to understand. 'It first,'
says the philosopher Chang, 'speaks of one principle; it next spreads this
out and embraces all things; finally, it returns and gathers them up under
the one principle. Unroll it and it fills the universe; roll it up, and it retires
and lies hid in secrecy [2].' There is this advantage, however, to the student
of it, that more than most other Chinese Treatises it has a beginning, a
middle, and an end. The first chapter stands to all that follows in the
character of a text, containing several propositions of which we have the
expansion or development. If that development were satisfactory, we
should be able to bring our own minds en rapport with that of the
author. Unfortunately it is not so. As a writer he belongs to the intuitional
school more than to the logical. This is well put in the 'Continuation of the
General Examination of Literary Monuments and Learned Men,'-- 'The
philosopher Tsang reached his conclusions by following in the train of
things, watch-
1 See the 四書拓餘說, art. 中庸. ing and examining; whereas Tsze-sze proceeds directly and reaches to
Heavenly virtue. His was a mysterious power of discernment, approaching
to that of Yen Hui [1].' We must take the Book and the author, however, as
we have them, and get to their meaning, if we can, by assiduous
examination and reflection.
2. 'Man has received his nature from Heaven. Conduct in
accordance with that nature constitutes what is right and true,-- is a
pursuing of the proper Path. The cultivation or regulation of that
path is what is called Instruction.' It is with these axioms that the
Treatise commences, and from such an introduction we might expect that
the writer would go on to unfold the various principles of duty, derived
from an analysis of man's moral constitution.
Confining himself, however, to the second axiom, he proceeds to say that
'the path may not for an instant be left, and that the superior man is
cautious and careful in reference to what he does not see, and fearful and
apprehensive in reference to what he does not hear. There is nothing more
visible than what is secret, and nothing more manifest than what is
minute, and therefore the superior man is watchful over his
aloneness.' This is not all very plain. Comparing it with the sixth
chapter of Commentary in the Great Learning, it seems to inculcate what is
there called 'making the thoughts sincere.' The passage contains an
admonition about equivalent to that of Solomon,-- 'Keep thy heart with all
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.'
The next paragraph seems to speak of the nature and the
path under other names. 'While there are no movements of pleasure,
anger, sorrow, or joy, we have what may be called the state of
equilibrium. When those feelings have been moved, and they all act
in the due degree, we have what may be called the state of harmony.
This equilibrium is the great root of the world, and this harmony is its
universal path.' What is here called 'the state of equilibrium,' is the same
as the nature given by Heaven, considered absolutely in itself, without
deflection or inclination. This nature acted on from without, and
responding with the various emotions, so as always 'to hit [2]' the mark
with entire
1 See the 續文獻通考, Bk. cxcix, art. 子思,--曾子得之于隨事省察,而子思之學,則
直達天德,庶幾顏氏之妙悟. correctness, produces the state of harmony, and such harmonious
response is the path along which all human activities should proceed.
Finally. 'Let the states of equilibrium and harmony exist in perfection,
and a happy order will prevail throughout heaven and earth, and all things
will be nourished and flourish.' Here we pass into the sphere of mystery
and mysticism. The language, according to Chu Hsi, 'describes the
meritorious achievements and transforming influence of sage and spiritual
men in their highest extent.' From the path of duty, where we tread on
solid ground, the writer suddenly raises us aloft on wings of air, and will
carry us we know not where, and to we know not what.
3. The paragraphs thus presented, and which constitute Chu Hsi's first
chapter, contain the sum of the whole Work. This is acknowledged by all;--
by the critics who disown Chu Hsi's interpretations of it, as freely as by
him [1]. Revolving them in my own mind often and long, I collect from
them the following as the ideas of the author:-- Firstly, Man has received
from Heaven a moral nature by which he is constituted a law to himself;
secondly, Over this nature man requires to exercise a jealous watchfulness;
and thirdly, As he possesses it, absolutely and relatively, in perfection, or
attains to such possession of it, he becomes invested with the highest
dignity and power, and may say to himself-- 'I am a god; yea, I sit in the
seat of God.' I will not say here that there is impiety in the last of these
ideas; but do we not have in them the same combination which we found
in the Great Learning,-- a combination of the ordinary and the
extraordinary, the plain and the vague, which is very perplexing to the
mind, and renders the Book unfit for the purposes of mental and moral
discipline?
And here I may inquire whether we do right in calling the Treatise by
any of the names which foreigners have hitherto used for it? In the note
on the title, I have entered a little into this question. The Work is not at all
what a reader must expect to find in what he supposes to be a treatise on
'The Golden Medium,' 'The Invariable Mean,' or 'The Doctrine of the Mean.'
Those
l Compare Chu Hsi's language in his concluding note to the first chapter:--
楊氏所謂一篇之禮要, and Mao Hsi-ho's, in his 中庸說, 卷一, p. 11:-- 此中庸一書之
領要也. names are descriptive only of a portion of it. Where the phrase Chung
Yung occurs in the quotations from Confucius, in nearly every chapter
from the second to the eleventh, we do well to translate it by 'the course of
the Mean,' or some similar terms; but the conception of it in Tsze-sze's
mind was of a different kind, as the preceding analysis of the first chapter
sufficiently shows [1].
4. I may return to this point of the proper title for the Work again, but
in the meantime we must proceed with the analysis of it.-- The ten
chapters from the second to the eleventh constitute the second part, and in
them Tsze-sze quotes the words of Confucius, 'for the purpose,' according
to Chu Hsi, 'of illustrating the meaning of the first chapter.' Yet, as I have
just intimated, they do not to my mind do this. Confucius bewails the rarity
of the practice of the Mean, and graphically sets forth the difficulty of it.
'The empire, with its component States and families, may be ruled;
dignities and emoluments may be declined; naked weapons may be
trampled under foot; but the course of the Mean can not be attained to [2].'
'The knowing go beyond it, and the stupid do not come up to it [3].' Yet
some have attained to it. Shun did so, humble and ever learning from
people far inferior to himself [4]; and Yen Hui did so, holding fast whatever
good he got hold of, and never letting it go [5]. Tsze-lu thought the Mean
could be taken by storm, but Confucius taught him better [6]. And in fine,
it is only the sage who can fully exemplify the Mean [7].
All these citations do not throw any light on the ideas presented in the
first chapter. On the contrary, they interrupt the train of thought. Instead
of showing us how virtue, or the path of duty is in accordance with our
Heaven-given nature, they lead us to think of it as a mean between two
extremes. Each extreme may be a violation of the law of our nature, but
that is not made to appear. Confucius's sayings would be in place in
illustrating the doctrine of the Peripatetics, 'which placed all virtue in a
medium between opposite vices [8].' Here in the Chung Yung of Tsze-sze I
have always felt them to be out of place.
5. In the twelfth chapter Tsze-sze speaks again himself, and we seem at
once to know the voice. He begins by saying that 'the way of the superior
man reaches far and wide, and yet is
1 In the version in 'The Sacred Books of the East,' I call the Treatise 'The
State of Equilibrium and Harmony.' secret,' by which he means to tell us that the path of duty is to be
pursued everywhere and at all times, while yet the secret spring and rule
of it is near at hand, in the Heaven-conferred nature, the individual
consciousness, with which no stranger can intermeddle. Chu Hsi, as will be
seen in the notes, gives a different interpretation of the utterance. But the
view which I have adopted is maintained convincingly by Mao Hsi-ho in
the second part of his 'Observations on the Chung Yung.' With this chapter
commences the third part of the Work, which embraces also the eight
chapters which follow. 'It is designed,' says Chu Hsi, 'to illustrate what is
said in the first chapter that "the path may not be left."' But more than that
one sentence finds its illustration here. Tsze-sze had reference in it also to
what he had said-- 'The superior man does not wait till he sees things to
be cautious, nor till he hears things to be apprehensive. There is nothing
more visible than what is secret, and nothing more manifest than what is
minute. Therefore, the superior man is watchful over himself when he is
alone.' It is in this portion of the Chung Yung that we find a good deal of
moral instruction which is really valuable. Most of it consists of sayings of
Confucius, but the sentiments of Tsze-sze himself in his own language are
interspersed with them. The sage of China has no higher utterances than
those which are given in the thirteenth chapter.-- 'The path is not far from
man. When men try to pursue a course which is far from the common
indications of consciousness, this course cannot be considered the
path. In the Book of Poetry it is said-- "In hewing an axe-handle, in hewing an axe-handle, We grasp one axe-handle to hew the other, and yet if we look askance
from the one to the other, we may consider them as apart. Therefore, the
superior man governs men according to their nature, with what is proper
to them; and as soon as they change what is wrong, he stops. When one
cultivates to the utmost the moral principles of his nature, and exercises
them on the principle of reciprocity, he is not far from the path. What you
do not like when done to yourself, do not do to others.'
'In the way of the superior man there are four things, to none of which
have I as yet attained.-- To serve my father as I would require my son to
serve me: to this I have not attained; to serve
my elder brother as I would require my younger brother to serve me:
to this I have not attained; to serve my ruler as I would require my
minister to serve me: to this I have not attained; to set the example in
behaving to a friend as I would require him to behave to me: to this I have
not attained. Earnest in practising the ordinary virtues, and careful in
speaking about them; if in his practice he has anything defective, the
superior man dares not but exert himself; and if in his words he has any
excess, he dares not allow himself such license. Thus his words have
respect to his actions, and his actions have respect to his words;-- is it not
just an entire sincerity which marks the superior man?'
We have here the golden rule in its negative form expressly
propounded:-- 'What you do not like when done to yourself, do not do to
others.' But in the paragraph which follows we have the rule virtually in
its positive form. Confucius recognises the duty of taking the initiative,-- of
behaving himself to others in the first instance as he would that they
should behave to him. There is a certain narrowness, indeed, in that the
sphere of its operations seems to be confined to the relations of society,
which are spoken of more at large in the twentieth chapter, but let us not
grudge the tribute of our warm approbation to the sentiments.
This chapter is followed by two from Tsze-sze, to the effect that the
superior man does what is proper in every change of his situation, always
finding his rule in himself; and that in his practice there is an orderly
advance from step to step,-- from what is near to what is remote. Then
follow five chapters from Confucius:-- the first, on the operation and
influence of spiritual beings, to show 'the manifestness of what is minute,
and the irrepressibleness of sincerity;' the second, on the filial piety of
Shun, and how it was rewarded by Heaven with the throne, with enduring
fame, and with long life; the third and fourth, on the kings Wan and Wu,
and the duke of Chau, celebrating them for their filial piety and other
associate virtues; and the fifth, on the subject of government. These
chapters are interesting enough in themselves, but when I go back from
them, and examine whether I have from them any better understanding of
the paragraphs in the first chapter which they are said to illustrate, I do
not find that I have. Three of them, the seventeenth, eighteenth, and
nineteenth, would be more in place in the Classic of Filial Piety than here
in the Chung Yung. The meaning of the
sixteenth is shadowy and undefined. After all the study which I have
directed to it, there are some points in reference to which I have still
doubts and difficulties.
The twentieth chapter, which concludes the third portion of the Work,
contains a full exposition of Confucius's views on government, though
professedly descriptive only of that of the kings Wan and Wu. Along with
lessons proper for a ruler there are many also of universal application, but
the mingling of them perplexes the mind. It tells us of 'the five duties of
universal application,'-- those between sovereign and minister, husband
and wife, father and son, elder and younger brother, and friends; of 'the
three virtues by which those duties are carried into effect,' namely,
knowledge, benevolence, and energy; and of 'the one thing, by which those
virtues are practised,' which is singleness or sincerity [1]. It sets forth in
detail the 'nine standard rules for the administration of government,'
which are 'the cultivation by the ruler of his own character; the honouring
men of virtue and talents; affection to his relatives; respect towards the
great ministers; kind and considerate treatment of the whole body of
officers; cherishing the mass of the people as children; encouraging all
classes of artisans; indulgent treatment of men from a distance; and the
kindly cherishing of the princes of the States [2].' There are these and
other equally interesting topics in this chapter; but, as they are in the
Work, they distract the mind, instead of making the author's great object
more clear to it, and I will not say more upon them here.
6. Doubtless it was the mention of 'singleness,' or 'sincerity,' in the
twentieth chapter, which made Tsze-sze introduce it into this Treatise, for
from those terms he is able to go on to develop what he intended in saying
that 'if the states of Equilibrium and Harmony exist in perfection, a happy
order will prevail throughout heaven and earth, and all things will be
nourished and flourish.' It is here, that now we are astonished at the
audacity of the writer's assertions, and now lost in vain endeavours to
ascertain his meaning. I have quoted the words of Confucius that it is
'singleness' by which the three virtues of knowledge, benevolence, and
energy are able to carry into practice the duties of universal obligation. He
says also that it is this same 'singleness' by which 'the nine standard rules
of government' can be effectively carried out [3]. This 'singleness' is merely
a name for 'the states of Equilibrium
1 Par. 8. and Harmony existing in perfection.' It denotes a character absolutely
and relatively good, wanting nothing in itself, and correct in all its
outgoings. 'Sincerity' is another term for the same thing, and in speaking
about it, Confucius makes a distinction between sincerity absolute and
sincerity acquired. The former is born with some, and practised by them
without any effort; the latter is attained by study, and practised by strong
endeavour [1]. The former is 'the way of Heaven;' the latter is 'the way of
men [2].' 'He who possesses sincerity,'-- absolutely, that is,-- 'is he who
without effort hits what is right, and apprehends without the exercise of
thought; he is the sage who naturally and easily embodies the right way.
He who attains to sincerity, is he who chooses what is good and firmly
holds it fast. And to this attainment there are requisite the extensive study
of what is good, accurate inquiry about it, careful reflection on it, the clear
discrimination of it, and the earnest practice of it [3].' In these passages
Confucius unhesitatingly enunciates his belief that there are some men
who are absolutely perfect, who come into the world as we might conceive
the first man was, when he was created by God 'in His own image,' full of
knowledge and righteousness, and who grow up as we know that Christ
did, 'increasing in wisdom and in stature.' He disclaimed being considered
to be such an one himself [4], but the sages of China were such. And
moreover, others who are not so naturally may make themselves to
become so. Some will have to put forth more effort and to contend with
greater struggles, but the end will be the possession of the knowledge and
the achievement of the practice.
I need not say that these sentiments are contrary to the views of
human nature which are presented in the Bible. The testimony of
Revelation is that 'there is not a just man upon earth that doeth good and
sinneth not.' 'If we say that we have no sin,' and in writing this term, I am
thinking here not of sin against God, but, if we can conceive of it apart
from that, of failures in regard to what ought to be in our regulation of
ourselves, and in our behavior to others;-- 'if we say that we have no sin,
we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.' This language is
appropriate in the lips of the learned as well as in those of the ignorant, to
the highest sage as to the lowest child of the soil. Neither the scriptures of
God nor the experience of man know of individuals
1 Par. 9. absolutely perfect. The other sentiment that men can make themselves
perfect is equally wide of the truth. Intelligence and goodness by no means
stand to each other in the relation of cause and effect. The sayings of Ovid,
'Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor,' 'Nitimur in velitum semper.
cupimusque negata,' are a more correct expression of the facts of
human consciousness and conduct than the high-flown praises of
Confucius.
7. But Tsze-sze adopts the dicta of his grandfather without questioning
them, and gives them forth in his own style at the commencement of the
fourth part of his Treatise. 'When we have intelligence resulting from
sincerity, this condition is to be ascribed to nature; when we have sincerity
resulting from intelligence, this condition is to be ascribed to instruction.
But given the sincerity, and there shall be the intelligence; given the
intelligence, and there shall be the sincerity [1].'
Tsze-sze does more than adopt the dicta of Confucius. He applies them
in a way which the Sage never did, and which he would probably have
shrunk from doing. The sincere, or perfect man of Confucius, is he who
satisfies completely all the requirements of duty in the various relations of
society, and in the exercise of government; but the sincere man of Tsze-sze
is a potency in the universe. 'Able to give its full development to his own
nature, he can do the same to the nature of other men. Able to give its full
development to the nature of other men, he can give their full
development to the natures of animals and things. Able to give their full
development to the natures of creatures and things, he can assist the
transforming and nourishing powers of Heaven and Earth. Able to assist
the transforming and nourishing powers of Heaven and Earth, he may with
Heaven and Earth form a ternion [2].' Such are the results of sincerity
natural. The case below this -- of sincerity acquired, is as follows,-- 'The
individual cultivates its shoots. From these he can attain to the possession
of sincerity. This sincerity becomes apparent. From being apparent, it
becomes manifest. From being manifest, it becomes brilliant. Brilliant, it
affects others. Affecting others, they are changed by it. Changed by it, they
are transformed. It is only he who is possessed of the most complete
sincerity that can exist under heaven, who can transform [3].' It may safely
be affirmed, that when he thus expressed himself, Tsze-sze understood
neither what he said nor
1 Ch. xxi. whereof he affirmed. Mao Hsi-ho and some other modern writers
explain away many of his predicates of sincerity, so that in their hands
they become nothing but extravagant hyperboles, but the author himself
would, I believe, have protested against such a mode of dealing with his
words. True, his structures are castles in the air, but he had no idea
himself that they were so.
In the twenty-fourth chapter there is a ridiculous descent from the
sublimity of the two preceding. We are told that the possessor of entire
sincerity is like a spirit and can foreknow, but the foreknowledge is only a
judging by the milfoil and tortoise and other auguries! But the author
recovers himself, and resumes his theme about sincerity as conducting to
self-completion and the completion of other men and things, describing it
also as possessing all the qualities which can be predicated of Heaven and
Earth. Gradually the subject is made to converge to the person of Confucius,
who is the ideal of the sage, as the sage is the ideal of humanity at large.
An old account of the object of Tsze-sze in the Chung Yung is that he wrote
it to celebrate the virtue of his grandfather [1]. He certainly contrives to do
this in the course of it. The thirtieth, thirty-first, and thirty-second
chapters contain his eulogium, and never has any other mortal been
exalted in such terms. 'He may be compared to heaven and earth in their
supporting and containing, their over-shadowing and curtaining all things;
he may be compared to the four seasons in their alternating progress, and
to the sun and moon in their successive shining.' 'Quick in apprehension,
clear in discernment, of far-reaching intelligence, and all-embracing
knowledge, he was fitted to exercise rule; magnanimous, generous, benign,
and mild, he was fitted to exercise forbearance; impulsive, energetic,
strong, and enduring, he was fitted to maintain a firm hold; self-adjusted,
grave, never swerving from the Mean, and correct, he was fitted to
command reverence; accomplished, distinctive, concentrative, and
searching, he was fitted to exercise discrimination.' 'All-embracing and
vast, he was like heaven; deep and active as a fountain, he was like the
abyss.' 'Therefore his fame overspreads the Middle Kingdom, and extends
to all barbarous tribes. Wherever ships and carriages reach; wherever the
strength of man penetrates; wherever the heavens overshadow
1 唐陸德明釋文謂孔子之孫,子思,作此以昭明祖德; see the 中庸唐說一, p. 1. and the earth sustains; wherever the sun and moon shine; wherever
frosts and dews fall;-- all who have blood and breath unfeignedly honour
and love him. Hence it is said,-- He is the equal of Heaven!' 'Who can know
him but he who is indeed quick in apprehension, clear in discernment, of
far-reaching intelligence, and all-embracing knowledge, possessing all
heavenly virtue?'
8. We have arrived at the concluding chapter of the Work, in which the
author, according to Chu Hsi, 'having carried his descriptions to the highest
point in the preceding chapters, turns back and examines the source of his
subject; and then again from the work of the learner, free from all
selfishness and watchful over himself when he is alone, he carries out his
description, till by easy steps he brings it to the consummation of the
whole world tranquillized by simple and sincere reverentialness. He
moreover eulogizes its mysteriousness, till he speaks of it at last as without
sound or smell [1].' Between the first and last chapters there is a
correspondency, and each of them may be considered as a summary of the
whole treatise. The difference between them is, that in the first a
commencement is made with the mention of Heaven as the conferrer of
man's nature, while in this the progress of man in virtue is traced, step by
step, till at last it is equal to that of High Heaven.
9. I have thus in the preceding paragraphs given a general and
somewhat copious review of this Work. My object has been to seize, if I
could, the train of thought and to hold it up to the reader. Minor objections
to it, arising from the confused use of terms and singular applications of
passages from the older Classics, are noticed in the notes subjoined to the
translation. I wished here that its scope should be seen, and the means be
afforded of judging how far it is worthy of the high character attributed to
it. 'The relish of it,' says the younger Ch'ang, 'is inexhaustible. The whole of
it is solid learning. When the skilful reader has explored it with delight till
he has apprehended it, he may carry it into practice all his life, and will
find that it cannot be exhausted [2].'
My own opinion of it is less favourable. The names by which it has been
called in translations of it have led to misconceptions of its character. Were
it styled 'The states of Equilibrium and Harmony,' we should be prepared
to expect something strange and probably extravagant. Assuredly we
should expect nothing more
1 See the concluding note by Chu Hsi. strange or extravagant than what we have. It begins sufficiently well,
but the author has hardly enunciated his preliminary apophthegms, when
he conducts into an obscurity where we can hardly grope our way, and
when we emerge from that, it is to be bewildered by his gorgeous but
unsubstantial pictures of sagely perfection. He has eminently contributed
to nourish the pride of his countrymen. He has exalted their sages above
all that is called God or is worshipped, and taught the masses of the people
that with them they have need of nothing from without. In the meantime
it is antagonistic to Christianity. By-and-by, when Christianity has
prevailed in China, men will refer to it as a striking proof how their fathers
by their wisdom knew neither God nor themselves.
CHAPTER V. 1. 'And have you foreigners surnames as well?' This question has often
been put to me by Chinese. It marks the ignorance which belongs to the
people of all that is external to
[Sidebar] His ancestry.
themselves, and the pride of antiquity which enters largely as an
element into their character. If such a pride could in any case be justified,
we might allow it to the family of the K'ung, the descendants of Confucius.
In the reign of K'ang-hsi, twenty-one centuries and a half after the death
of the sage, they amounted to eleven thousand males. But their ancestry is
carried back through a period of equal extent, and genealogical tables are
common, in which the descent of Confucius is traced down from Hwang-ti,
in whose reign the cycle was invented, B.C. 2637 [1].
The more moderate writers, however, content themselves with
exhibiting his ancestry back to the commencement of the Chau dynasty,
B.C. 1121. Among the relatives of the tyrant Chau, the last emperor of the
Yin dynasty, was an elder brother, by a concubine, named Ch'i [2], who is
celebrated by Confucius, Ana. XVIII. i, under the title of the viscount of
Wei. Foreseeing the impending ruin of their family, Ch'i withdrew from the
court; and subsequently he was invested by the emperor Ch'ang, the
second of the house of Chau, with the principality of Sung, which embraced
the eastern portion of the present province of Ho-nan, that he might there
continue the sacrifices to the sovereigns of Yin. Ch'i was followed as duke
of Sung by a younger brother, in whose line the succession continued. His
great-grandson, the duke Min [3], was
l See M�©moires concernant les Chinois, Tome XII, p. 447 et seq.
Father Amiot states, p. 501, that he had seen the representative of the
family, who succeeded to the dignity of 衍聖公 in the ninth year of Ch'ien-
lung, A.D. 1744. The last duke, not the present, was visited in our own time
by the late Dr. Williamson and Mr. Consul Markham. It is hardly necessary
that I should say here, that the name Confucius is merely the Chinese
characters 孔夫子 (K'ung Fu-tsze, 'The master K'ung') Latinized. followed, B.C. 908, by a younger brother, leaving, however, two sons,
Fu-fu Ho [1] and Fang-sze [2]. Fu Ho [3] resigned his right to the dukedom
in favour of Fang-sze, who put his uncle to death in B.C. 893, and became
master of the State. He is known as the duke Li [4], and to his elder brother
belongs the honour of having the sage among his descendants.
Three descents from Fu Ho, we find Chang K'ao-fu [5], who was a
distinguished officer under the dukes Tai, Wu, and Hsuan [6] (B.C. 799-
728). He is still celebrated for his humility, and for his literary tastes. We
have accounts of him as being in communication with the Grand-
historiographer of the kingdom, and engaged in researches about its
ancient poetry, thus setting an example of one of the works to which
Confucius gave himself [7]. K'ao gave birth to K'ung-fu Chia [8], from whom
the surname of K'ung took its rise. Five generations had now elapsed since
the dukedom was held in the direct line of his ancestry, and it was
according to the rule in such cases that the branch should cease its
connexion with the ducal stem, and merge among the people under a new
surname. K'ung Chia was Master of the Horse in Sung, and an officer of
well-known loyalty and probity. Unfortunately for himself, he had a wife
of surpassing beauty, of whom the chief minister of the State, by name
Hwa Tu [9], happened on one occasion to get a glimpse. Determined to
possess her, he commenced a series of intrigues, which ended, B.C. 710, in
the murder of Chia and of the ruling duke Shang [10]. At the same time, Tu
secured the person of the lady, and hastened to his palace with the prize,
but on the way she had strangled herself with her girdle.
An enmity was thus commenced between the two families of K'ung and
Hwa which the lapse of time did not obliterate, and the latter being the
more powerful of the two, Chia's great-grandson withdrew into the State of
Lu to avoid their persecution. There he was appointed commandant of the
city of Fang [11], and is known
1 佛父何. in history by the name of Fang-shu [1]. Fang-shu gave birth to Po-hsia
[2], and from him came Shu-liang Heh [3], the father of Confucius. Heh
appears in the history of the times as a soldier of great prowess and daring
bravery. In the year B.C. 562, when serving at the siege of a place called
Peh-yang [4], a party of the assailants made their way in at a gate which
had purposely been left open, and no sooner were they inside than the
portcullis was dropped. Heh was just entering; and catching the massive
structure with both his hands, he gradually by dint of main strength raised
it and held it up, till his friends had made their escape.
Thus much on the ancestry of the sage. Doubtless he could trace his
descent in the way which has been indicated up to the imperial house of
Yin, nor was there one among his ancestors during the rule of Chau to
whom he could not refer with satisfaction. They had been ministers and
soldiers of Sung and Lu, all men of worth, and in Chang K'ao, both for his
humility and literary researches, Confucius might have special
complacency.
2. Confucius was the child of Shu-liang Heh's old age. The soldier had
married in early life, but his wife brought him only
[Sidebar] From his birth to his first public employments. B.C.
551-531.
daughters,-- to the number of nine, and no son. By a concubine he had a
son, named Mang-p'i, and also Po-ni [5], who proved a cripple, so that,
when he was over seventy years, Heh sought a second wife in the Yen
family [6], from which came subsequently Yen Hui, the favourite disciple of
his son. There were three daughters in the family, the youngest being
named Chang-tsai [7]. Their father said to them, 'Here is the commandant
of Tsau. His father and grandfather were only scholars, but his ancestors
before them were descendants of the sage sovereigns. He is a man ten feet
high [8], and of extraordinary prowess, and I am very desirous of his
alliance. Though he is old and austere, you need have no misgivings about
him. Which of you three will be his wife? 'The two elder daughters were
silent, but Chang-tsai said, 'Why do you ask us, father? It is for you to
determine.' 'Very well,' said her father in reply, 'you will do.' Chang-tsai,
accordingly, became Heh's wife, and in due time gave
1 防叔. birth to Confucius, who received the name of Ch'iu, and was
subsequently styled Chung-ni [1]. The event happened on the twenty-first
day of the tenth month of the twenty-first year of the duke Hsiang, of Lu,
being the twentieth year of the emperor Ling, B.C. 552 [2]. The birth-place
was in the district of Tsau [3], of which Heh was the governor. It was
somewhere within the limits of the present department of Yen-chau in
Shan-tung, but the honour of being the exact spot is claimed for two places
in two different districts of the department.
The notices which we have of Confucius's early years are very scanty.
When he was in his third year his father died. It is related of him, that as a
boy he used to play at the arrangement of
1 名邱, 字仲尼. The legends say that Chang-tsai fearing lest she should
not have a son, in consequence of her husband's age, privately ascended
the Ni-ch'iu hill to pray for the boon, and that when she had obtained it,
she commemorated the fact in the names -- Ch'iu and Chung-ni. But the
cripple, Mang-p'i, had previous been styled Po-ni. There was some reason,
previous to Confucius's birth, for using the term ni in the family. As
might be expected, the birth of the sage is surrounded with many
prodigious occurrences. One account is, that the husband and wife prayed
together for a son in a dell of mount Ni. As Chang-tsai went up the hill, the
leaves of the trees and plants all erected themselves, and bent downwards
on her return. That night she dreamt the black Ti appeared, and said
to her, 'You shall have a son, a sage, and you must bring him forth in a
hollow mulberry tree.' One day during her pregnancy, she fell into a
dreamy state, and saw five old men in the hall, who called themselves the
essences of the five planets, and led an animal which looked like a small
cow with one horn, and was covered with scales like a dragon. This
creature knelt before Chang-tsai, and cast forth from its mouth a slip of
jade, on which was the inscription,-- 'The son of the essence of water shall
succeed to the decaying Chau, and be a throneless king.' Chang-tsai tied a
piece of embroidered ribbon about its horn, and the vision disappeared.
When Heh was told of it, he said, 'The creature must be the Ch'i-lin.' As her
time drew near, Chang-tsai asked her husband if there was any place in
the neighborhood called 'the hollow mulberry tree.' He told her there was a
dry cave in the south hill, which went by that name. Then she said, 'I will
go and be confined there.' Her husband was surprised, but when made
acquainted with her former dream, he made the necessary arrangements.
On the night when the child was born, two dragons came and kept watch
on the left and right of the hill, and two spirit-ladies appeared in the air,
pouring out fragrant odors, as if to bathe Chang-tsai; and as soon as the
birth took place, a spring of clear warm water bubbled up from the floor of
the cave, which dried up again when the child had been washed in it. The
child was of an extraordinary appearance; with a mouth like the sea, ox
lips, a dragon's back, &c. &c. On the top of his head was a remarkable
formation, in consequence of which he was named Ch'iu, &c. See the 列國志,
Bk. lxxviii.--Sze-ma Ch'ien seems to make Confucius to have been
illegitimate, saying that Heh and Miss Yen cohabited in the wilderness (野合
). Chiang Yung says that the phrase has reference simply to the disparity of
their ages. sacrificial vessels, and at postures of ceremony. Of his schooling we have
no reliable account. There is a legend, indeed, that at seven he went to
school to Yen P'ing-chung [1], but it must be rejected as P'ing-chung
belonged to the State of Ch'i. He tells us himself that at fifteen he bent his
mind to learning [2]; but the condition of the family was one of poverty. At
a subsequent period, when people were astonished at the variety of his
knowledge, he explained it by saying, 'When I was young, my condition
was low, and therefore I acquired my ability in many things; but they
were mean matters [3].'
When he was nineteen, he married a lady from the State of Sung, of the
Chien-kwan family [4], and in the following year his son Li was born. On
the occasion of this event, the duke Chao sent him a present of a couple of
carp. It was to signify his sense of his prince's favour, that he called his son
Li (The Carp), and afterwards gave him the designation of Po-yu [5]
(Fish Primus). No mention is made of the birth of any other children,
though we know, from Ana. V. i, that he had at least one daughter. We
know also, from an inscription on her grave, that he had one other
daughter, who died when she was quite young. The fact of the duke of Lu's
sending him a gift on the occasion of Li's birth, shows that he was not
unknown, but was already commanding public attention and the respect of
the great.
It was about this time, probably in the year after his marriage, that
Confucius took his first public employment, as keeper of the stores of grain
[6], and in the following year he was put in charge of the public fields and
lands [7]. Mencius adduces these employments in illustration of his
doctrine that the superior man may at times take office on account of his
poverty, but must confine himself in such a case to places of small
emolument, and aim at nothing but the discharge of their humble duties.
According to him. Confucius, as keeper of stores, said, 'My calculations
must all be right:-- that is all I have to care about;' and when in charge of
the public fields, he said, 'The oxen and sheep must be fat and strong and
1 晏平仲. superior:-- that is all I have to care about [1].' It does not appear
whether these offices were held by Confucius in the direct employment of
the State, or as a dependent of the Chi family in whose jurisdiction he
lived. The present of the carp from the duke may incline us to suppose the
former.
3. In his twenty-second year, Confucius commenced his labors as a
public teacher, and his house became a resort for young and inquiring
spirits, who wished to learn the doctrines of antiquity.
[Sidebar] Commencement of his labors as a teacher. The death of
his mother. B.C. 531-527.
However small the fee his pupils were able to afford, he never refused
his instructions [2]. All that he required, was an ardent desire for
improvement, and some degree of capacity. 'I do not open up the truth,' he
said, 'to one who is not eager to get knowledge, nor help out any one who
is not anxious to explain himself. When I have presented one corner of a
subject to any one, and he cannot from it learn the other three, I do not
repeat my lesson [3].'
His mother died in the year B.C. 527, and he resolved that her body
should lie in the same grave with that of his father, and that their common
resting-place should be in Fang, the first home of the K'ung in Lu. But here
a difficulty presented itself. His father's coffin had been for twenty years
where it had first been deposited, off the road of The Five Fathers, in
the vicinity of Tsau:-- would it be right in him to move it? He was relieved
from this perplexity by an old woman of the neighborhood, who told him
that the coffin had only just been put into the ground, as a temporary
arrangement, and not regularly buried. On learning this, he carried his
purpose into execution. Both coffins were conveyed to Fang, and put in the
ground together, with no intervening space between them, as was the
custom in some States. And now came a new perplexity. He said to himself,
'In old times, they had graves, but raised no tumulus over them. But I am
a man, who belongs equally to the north and the south, the east and the
west. I must have something by which I can remember the place.'
Accordingly he raised a mound, four feet high, over the grave, and
returned home, leaving a party of his disciples to see everything properly
completed. In the meantime there came on a heavy storm of rain, and it
was a considerable time before the disciples joined him. 'What makes you
so late?' he asked. 'The grave in Fang fell down,' they said. He made no
reply, and they repeated their
1 Mencius, V. Pt. II. v. 4. answer three times, when he burst into tears, and said, 'Ah! they did
not make their graves so in antiquity [1].' 'Confucius mourned for his
mother the regular period of three years,-- three years nominally, but in
fact only twenty-seven months. Five days after the mourning was expired,
he played on his lute, but could not sing. It required other five days before
he could accompany an instrument with his voice [2].
Some writers have represented Confucius as teaching his disciples
important lessons from the manner in which he buried his mother, and
having a design to correct irregularities in the ordinary funeral ceremonies
of the time. These things are altogether 'without book.' We simply have a
dutiful son paying the last tribute of affection to a good parent. In one
point he departs from the ancient practice, raising a mound over the grave,
and when the fresh earth gives way from a sudden rain, he is moved to
tears, and seems to regret his innovation. This sets Confucius vividly
before us,-- a man of the past as much as of the present, whose own
natural feelings were liable to be hampered in their development by the
traditions of antiquity which he considered sacred. It is important,
however, to observe the reason which he gave for rearing the mound. He
had in it a presentiment of much of his future course. He was 'a man of the
north, the south, the east, and the west.' He might not confine himself to
any one State. He would travel, and his way might be directed to some
'wise ruler,' whom his counsels would conduct to a benevolent sway that
would break forth on every side till it transformed the empire.
4. When the mourning for his mother was over, Confucius remained in
Lu, but in what special capacity we do not know. Probably he continued to
encourage the resort of
[Sidebar] He learns music; visits the court of Chau; and returns to
Lu. B.C. 527-517.
inquirers to whom he communicated instruction, and pursued his own
researches into the history, literature, and institutions of the empire. In
the year B.C. 525, the chief of the small State of T'an [3], made his
appearance at the court of Lu, and discoursed in a wonderful manner, at a
feast given to him by the duke, about the names which the most ancient
sovereigns, from Hwang-ti downwards, gave to their
1 Li Chi, II. Sect I. i. 10; Sect. II. iii. 30; Pt. I. i. 6. See also the discussion
of those passages in Chiang Yung's 'Life of Confucius.' ministers. The sacrifices to the emperor Shao-hao, the next in descent
from Hwang-ti, were maintained in T'an, so that the chief fancied that he
knew all about the abstruse subject on which he discoursed. Confucius,
hearing about the matter, waited on the visitor, and learned from him all
that he had to communicate [1].
To the year B.C. 525, when Confucius was twenty-nine years old, is
referred his studying music under a famous master of the name of Hsiang
[2]. He was approaching his thirtieth year when, as he tells us, 'he stood [3]'
firm, that is, in his convictions on the subjects of learning to which he had
bent his mind fifteen years before. Five years more, however, were still to
pass by, before the anticipation mentioned in the conclusion of the last
paragraph began to receive its fulfillment [4], though we may conclude
from the way in which it was brought about that he was growing all the
time in the estimation of the thinking minds in his native State.
In the twenty-fourth year of duke Chao, B.C. 518, one of the principal
ministers of Lu, known by the name of Mang Hsi, died. Seventeen years
before, he had painfully felt his ignorance of ceremonial observances, and
had made it his subsequent business to make himself acquainted with
them. On his deathbed, he addressed his chief officer, saying, 'A knowledge
of propriety is the stem of a man. Without it he has no means of standing
firm. I have heard that there is one K'ung Ch'iu, who is thoroughly versed
in it. He is a descendant of sages, and though the line of his family was
extinguished in Sung, among his ancestors there were Fu-fu Ho, who
resigned the State to his brother, and Chang K'ao-fu, who was distinguished
for his humility. Tsang Heh has observed that if sage men of intelligent
virtue do not attain to eminence, distinguished men are sure to appear
among their posterity. His words are now to be verified, I think, in K'ung
Ch'iu. After my death, you must
1 This rests on the respectable authority of Tso Ch'iu-ming's annotations
on the Ch'un Ch'iu, but I must consider it apocryphal. The legend-writers
have fashioned a journey to T'an. The slightest historical intimation
becomes a text with them, on which they enlarge to the glory of the sage.
Amiot has reproduced and expanded their romancings, and others, such as
Pauthier (Chine, pp. 121-183) and Thornton (History of China, vol. i. pp.
151-215), have followed in his wake. tell Ho-chi to go and study proprieties under him [1].' In consequence of
this charge, Ho-chi [2], Mang Hsi's son, who appears in the Analects under
the name of Mang I [3], and a brother, or perhaps on]y a near relative,
named Nan-kung Chang-shu [4], became disciples of Confucius. Their
wealth and standing in the State gave him a position which he had not had
before, and he told Chang-shu of a wish which he had to visit the court of
Chau, and especially to confer on the subject of ceremonies and music with
Lao Tan. Chang-shu represented the matter to the duke Ch'ao, who put a
carriage and a pair of horses at Confucius's disposal for the expedition [5].
At this time the court of Chau was in the city of Lo [6]. in the present
department of Ho-nan of the province of the same name. The reigning
sovereign is known by the title of Chang [7], but the sovereignty was little
more than nominal. The state of China was then analogous to that of one of
the European kingdoms during the prevalence of the feudal system. At the
commencement of the dynasty, the various states of the kingdom had been
assigned to the relatives and adherents of the reigning family. There were
thirteen principalities of greater note, and a large number of smaller
dependencies. During the vigorous youth of the dynasty, the sovereign or
lord paramount exercised an effective control over the various chiefs, but
with the lapse of time there came weakness and decay. The chiefs --
corresponding somewhat to the European dukes, earls, marquises, barons,
&c. -- quarrelled and warred among themselves, and the stronger among
them barely acknowledged their subjection to the sovereign. A similar
condition of things prevailed in each particular State. There there [sic]
were hereditary ministerial families, who were continually encroaching on
the authority of their rulers, and the heads of those families again were
frequently hard pressed by their inferior officers. Such was the state of
China in Confucius's time. The reader must have it clearly before him, if he
would understand the position of the sage, and the reforms which, we shall
find, it was subsequently his object to introduce.
Arrived at Chau, he had no intercourse with the court or any of
1 See 左氏傳, 昭公七年. the principal ministers. He was there not as a politician, but as an
inquirer about the ceremonies and maxims of the founders of the existing
dynasty. Lao Tan [1], whom he had wished to see, generally acknowledged
as the founder of the Taoists, or Rationalistic sect (so called), which has
maintained its ground in opposition to the followers of Confucius, was then
a curator of the royal library. They met and freely interchanged their
views, but no reliable account of their conversations has been preserved.
In the fifth Book of the Li Chi, which is headed 'The philosopher Tsang
asked,' Confucius refers four times to the views of Lao-tsze on certain
points of funeral ceremonies, and in the 'Narratives of the School,' Book
XXIV, he tells Chi K'ang what he had heard from him about 'The Five Tis,'
but we may hope their conversation turned also on more important
subjects. Sze-ma Ch'ien, favourable to Lao-tsze, makes him lecture his
visitor in the following style:-- 'Those whom you talk about are dead, and
their bones are moldered to dust; only their words remain. When the
superior man gets his time, he mounts aloft; but when the time is against
him, he moves as if his feet were entangled. I have heard that a good
merchant, though he has rich treasures deeply stored, appears as if he
were poor, and that the superior man whose virtue is complete, is yet to
outward seeming stupid. Put away your proud air and many desires, your
insinuating habit and wild will [2]. These are of no advantage to you. This
is all which I have to tell you.' On the other hand, Confucius is made to say
to his disciples, 'I know how birds can fly, how fishes can swim, and how
animals can run. But the runner may be snared, the swimmer may be
hooked, and the flyer may be shot by the arrow. But there is the dragon. I
cannot tell how he mounts on the wind through the clouds, and rises to
heaven. Today I have seen Lao-tsze, and can only compare him to the
dragon [3].'
While at Lo, Confucius walked over the grounds set apart for the great
sacrifices to Heaven and Earth; inspected the pattern of the Hall of Light,
built to give audience in to the princes of the kingdom; and examined all
the arrangements of the ancestral temple and the court. From the whole he
received a profound
1 According to Sze-ma Ch'ien, Tan was the posthumous epithet of this
individual, whose surname was Li (李), name R (耳), and designation
Po-yang (伯陽). impression. 'Now,' said he with a sigh, 'I know the sage wisdom of the
duke of Chau, and how the House of Chau attained to the royal sway [1].'
On the walls of the Hall of Light were paintings of the ancient sovereigns
from Yao and Shun downwards, their characters appearing in the
representations of them, and words of praise or warning being appended.
There was also a picture of the duke of Chau sitting with his infant
nephew, the king Ch'ang, upon his knees, to give audience to all the
princes. Confucius surveyed the scene with silent delight, and then said to
his followers, 'Here you see how Chau became so great. As we use a glass to
examine the forms of things, so must we study antiquity in order to
understand the present time [2].' In the hall of the ancestral temple, there
was a metal statue of a man with three clasps upon his mouth, and his
back covered over with an enjoyable homily on the duty of keeping a
watch upon the lips. Confucius turned to his disciples and said, 'Observe it,
my children. These words are true, and commend themselves to our
feelings [3].'
About music he made inquiries at Ch'ang Hung, to whom the following
remarks are attributed:-- 'I have observed about Chung-ni many marks of
a sage. He has river eyes and a dragon forehead,-- the very characteristics
of Hwang-ti. His arms are long, his back is like a tortoise, and he is nine
feet six inches in height,-- the very semblance of T'ang the Completer.
When he speaks, he praises the ancient kings. He moves along the path of
humility and courtesy. He has heard of every subject, and retains with a
strong memory. His knowledge of things seems inexhaustible.-- Have we
not in him the rising of a sage [4]?'
I have given these notices of Confucius at the court of Chau, more as
being the only ones I could find, than because I put much faith in them. He
did not remain there long, but returned the same year to Lu, and
continued his work of teaching. His fame was greatly increased; disciples
came to him from different parts, till their number amounted to three
thousand. Several of those who have come down to us as the most
distinguished among his followers, however, were yet unborn, and the
statement just given may be considered as an exaggeration. We are not to
conceive of the disciples as forming a community, and living together.
Parties
1 2 3 See the 家語, 卷二, art. 觀周. of them may have done so. We shall find Confucius hereafter always
moving amid a company of admiring pupils; but the greater number must
have had their proper avocations and ways of living, and would only resort
to the Master, when they wished specially to ask his counsel or to learn of
him.
5. In the year succeeding the return to Lu, that State fell into great
confusion. There were three Families in it, all connected irregularly with
the ducal House, which had long kept the rulers in a condition of
dependency. They appear frequently in the Analects as the Chi clan, the
Shu, and the Mang; and while Confucius freely spoke of their
[Sidebar] He withdraws to Chi and returns to Lu the following
year. B.C. 515, 516.
usurpations [1], he was a sort of dependent of the Chi family, and
appears in frequent communication with members of all the three. In the
year B.C. 517, the duke Chao came to open hostilities with them, and being
worsted, fled into Ch'i, the State adjoining Lu on the north. Thither
Confucius also repaired, that he might avoid the prevailing disorder of his
native State. Ch'i was then under the government of a ruler (in rank a
marquis, but historically called duke) , afterwards styled Ching [2], who
'had a thousand teams, each of four horses, but on the day of his death the
people did not praise him for a single virtue [3].' His chief minister,
however, was Yen Ying [4], a man of considerable ability and worth. At his
court the music of the ancient sage-emperor, Shun, originally brought to
Ch'i from the State of Ch'an [5], was still preserved.
According to the 'Narratives of the School,' an incident occurred on the
way to Ch'i, which I may transfer to these pages as a good specimen of the
way in which Confucius turned occurring matters to account, in his
intercourse with his disciples. As he was passing by the side of the Tai
mountain, there was a woman weeping and wailing by a grave. Confucius
bent forward in his carriage, and after listening to her for some time, sent
Tsze-lu to ask the cause of her grief. 'You weep, as if you had experienced
sorrow upon sorrow,' said Tsze-lu. The woman replied, 'It is so. My
husband's father was killed here by a tiger, and my husband also; and now
my son has met the same fate.' Confucius asked her why she did not
remove from the place, and on her answering,' There is here no oppressive
government,' he turned to his disciples, and said, 'My
1 See Analects, III. i. ii, et al. children, remember this. Oppressive government is fiercer than a tiger
[1].'
As soon as he crossed the border from Lu, we are told he discovered
from the gait and manners of a boy, whom he saw carrying a pitcher, the
influence of the sages' music, and told the driver of his carriage to hurry
on to the capital [2]. Arrived there, he heard the strain, and was so
ravished with it, that for three months he did not know the taste of flesh.
'I did not think,' he said, 'that music could have been made so excellent as
this [3].' The duke Ching was pleased with the conferences which he had
with him [4], and proposed to assign to him the town of Lin-ch'iu, from the
revenues of which he might derive a sufficient support; but Confucius
refused the gift, and said to his disciples, 'A superior man will only receive
reward for services which he has done. I have given advice to the duke
Ching, but he has not yet obeyed it, and now he would endow me with this
place! Very far is he from understanding me [5]!'
On one occasion the duke asked about government, and received the
characteristic reply, 'There is government when the ruler is ruler, and the
minister is minister; when the father is father, and the son is son [6].' I say
that the reply is characteristic. Once, when Tsze-lu asked him what he
would consider the first thing to be done if entrusted with the government
of a State, Confucius answered, 'What is necessary is to rectify names [7].'
The disciple thought the reply wide of the mark, but it was substantially
the same with what he said to the marquis Ching. There is a sufficient
foundation in nature for government in the several relations of society,
and if those be maintained and developed according to their relative
significancy, it is sure to obtain. This was a first principle in the political
ethics of Confucius.
Another day the duke got to a similar inquiry the reply that the art of
government lay in an economical use of the revenues; and being pleased,
he resumed his purpose of retaining the philosopher in his State, and
proposed to assign to him the fields of Ni-ch'i. His
1 See the 家語, 卷四, art. 正論解. I have translated, however, from the Li
Chi, II. Sect. II. iii. 10, where the same incident is given, with some
variations, and without saying when or where it occurred. chief minister Yen Ying dissuaded him from the purpose, saying, 'Those
scholars are impracticable, and cannot be imitated. They are haughty and
conceited of their own views, so that they will not be content in inferior
positions. They set a high value on all funeral ceremonies, give way to
their grief, and will waste their property on great burials, so that they
would only be injurious to the common manners. This Mr. K'ung has a
thousand peculiarities. It would take generations to exhaust all that he
knows about the ceremonies of going up and going down. This is not the
time to examine into his rules of propriety. If you, prince, wish to employ
him to change the customs of Ch'i, you will not be making the people your
primary consideration [1].'
I had rather believe that these were not the words of Yen Ying, but they
must represent pretty correctly the sentiments of many of the statesmen
of the time about Confucius. The duke of Ch'i got tired ere long of having
such a monitor about him, and observed. 'I cannot treat him as I would the
chief of the Chi family. I will treat him in a way between that accorded to
the chief of the Chi, and that given to the chief of the Mang family.' Finally
he said, 'I am old; I cannot use his doctrines [2].' These observations were
made directly to Confucius, or came to his hearing [3]. It was not consistent
with his self-respect to remain longer in Ch'i, and he returned to Lu [4].
6. Returned to Lu, he remained for the long period of about fifteen
years without being engaged in any official employment. It
[Sidebar] He remains without office in Lu, B.C. 516-501.
was a time indeed of great disorder. The duke Chao continued a refugee
in Ch'i, the government being in the hands of the great Families, up to his
death in B.C. 510, on which event the rightful heir was set aside, and
another member of the ducal House, known to us by the title of Ting [5],
substituted in his place. The ruling authority of the principality became
thus still more enfeebled than it had been before, and, on the other hand,
the chiefs of the Chi, the Shu, and the Mang, could hardly keep their
ground against their own officers. Of those latter, the two most conspicuous
were Yang Hu [6], called also Yang Ho [7], and
1 See the 史記, 孔子世家, p. 2. Kung-shan Fu-zao [1]. At one time Chi Hwan, the most powerful of the
chiefs, was kept a prisoner by Yang Hu, and was obliged to make terms
with him in order to obtain his liberation. Confucius would give his
countenance to none, as he disapproved of all, and he studiously kept aloof
from them. Of how he comported himself among them we have a specimen
in the incident related in the Analects, XVII. i.-- 'Yang Ho wished to see
Confucius, but Confucius would not go to see him. On this, he sent a present
of a pig to Confucius, who, having chosen a time when Ho was not at home,
went to pay his respects for the gift. He met him, however, on the way.
"Come, let me speak with you," said the officer. "Can he be called
benevolent, who keeps his jewel in his bosom, and leaves his country to
confusion?" Confucius replied, "No." "Can he be called wise, who is anxious
to be engaged in public employment, and yet is constantly losing the
opportunity of being so?" Confucius again said, "No." The other added, "The
days and months are passing away; the years do not wait for us." Confucius
said, "Right; I will go into office."' Chinese writers are eloquent in their
praises of the sage for the combination of propriety, complaisance and
firmness, which they see in his behavior in this matter. To myself there
seems nothing remarkable in it but a somewhat questionable dexterity.
But it was well for the fame of Confucius that his time was not occupied
during those years with official services. He turned them to better account,
prosecuting his researches into the poetry, history, ceremonies, and music
of the nation. Many disciples continued to resort to him, and the legendary
writers tell us how he employed their services in digesting the results of
his studies. I must repeat, however, that several of them, whose names are
most famous, such as Tsang Shan, were as yet children, and Min Sun [2]
was not born till B.C. 500.
To this period we must refer the almost single instance which we have
of the manner of Confucius's intercourse with his son Li. 'Have you heard
any lessons from your father different from what we have all heard?'
asked one of the disciples once of Li. 'No,' said Li. 'He was standing alone
once, when I was passing through the court below with hasty steps, and
said to me, "Have you learned the Odes?" On my replying, "Not yet," he
added, "If you do not learn the Odes, you will not be fit to converse with."
Another day,
1 公山佛擾(史記, 狃). in the same place and the same way, he said to me, "Have you read the
rules of Propriety?" On my replying, "Not yet," he added, "If you do not
learn the rules of Propriety, your character cannot be established." I have
heard only these two things from him.' The disciple was delighted and
observed, 'I asked one thing, and I have got three things. I have heard
about the Odes. I have heard about the rules of Propriety. I have also
heard that the superior man maintains a distant reserve towards his son
[1].'
I can easily believe that this distant reserve was the rule which
Confucius followed generally in his treatment of his son. A stern dignity is
the quality which a father has to maintain upon his system. It is not to be
without the element of kindness, but that must never go beyond the line of
propriety. There is too little room left for the play and development of
natural affection.
The divorce of his wife must also have taken place during these years, if
it ever took place at all, which is a disputed point. The curious reader will
find the question discussed in the notes on the second Book of the Li Chi.
The evidence inclines, I think, against the supposition that Confucius did
put his wife away. When she died, at a period subsequent to the present,
Li kept on weeping aloud for her after the period for such a demonstration
of grief had expired, when Confucius sent a message to him that his sorrow
must be subdued, and the obedient son dried his tears [2]. We are glad to
know that on one occasion the death of his favourite disciple, Yen Hui --
the tears of Confucius himself would flow over and above the measure of
propriety [3].
7. We come to the short period of Confucius's official life. In the
[Sidebar] He holds office. B.C. 500-496.
year B.C. 501, things had come to a head between the chiefs of the three
Families and their ministers, and had resulted in the defeat of the latter. In
that year the resources of Yang Hu were exhausted, and he fled into Ch'i, so
that the State was delivered from its greatest troubler, and the way was
made more clear for Confucius to go into office, should an opportunity
occur. It soon presented itself. Towards the end of that year he was made
chief magistrate of the town of Chung-tu [4].
1 Ana. XVI. xiii. Just before he received this appointment, a circumstance occurred of
which we do not well know what to make. When Yang-hu fled into Ch'i,
Kung-shan Fu-zao, who had been confederate with him, continued to
maintain an attitude of rebellion, and held the city of Pi against the Chi
family. Thence he sent a message to Confucius inviting him to join him, and
the Sage seemed so inclined to go that his disciple Tsze-lu remonstrated
with him, saying, 'Indeed you cannot go! why must you think of going to
see Kung-shan?' Confucius replied, 'Can it be without some reason that he
has invited me? If any one employ me, may I not make an eastern Chau
[1]?'
The upshot, however, was that he did not go, and I cannot suppose that
he had ever any serious intention of doing so. Amid the general gravity of
his intercourse with his followers, there gleam out a few instances of quiet
pleasantry, when he amused himself by playing with their notions about
him. This was probably one of them.
As magistrate of Chung-tu he produced a marvellous reformation of the
manners of the people in a short time. According to the 'Narratives of the
School,' he enacted rules for the nourishing of the living and all
observances to the dead. Different food was assigned to the old and the
young, and different burdens to the strong and the weak. Males and
females kept apart from each other in the streets. A thing dropped on the
road was not picked up. There was no fraudulent carving of vessels. Inner
coffins were made four inches thick, and the outer ones five. Graves were
made on the high grounds, no mounds being raised over them, and no
trees planted about them. Within twelve months, the princes of the other
States all wished to imitate his style of administration [2].
The duke Ting, surprised at what he saw, asked whether his rules could
be employed to govern a whole State, and Confucius told him that they
might be applied to the whole kingdom. On this the duke appointed him
assistant-superintendent of Works [3], in which capacity he surveyed the
lands of the State, and made many improvements in agriculture. From this
he was quickly made minister of Crime [4], and the appointment was
enough to put an end to crime. There was no necessity to put the penal
laws in execution. No offenders showed themselves [5].
1 Ana. XVII. v. These indiscriminating eulogies are of little value. One incident, related
in the annotations of Tso-shih on the Ch'un-Ch'iu [1], commends itself at
once to our belief, as in harmony with Confucius's character. The chief of
the Chi, pursuing with his enmity the duke Chao, even after his death, had
placed his grave apart from the graves of his predecessors; and Confucius
surrounded the ducal cemetery with a ditch so as to include the solitary
resting-place, boldly telling the chief that he did it to hide his disloyalty
[2]. But he signalized himself most of all in B.C. 500, by his behavior at an
interview between the dukes of Lu and Ch'i, at a place called Shih-ch'i [3],
and Chia-ku [4], in the present district of Lai-wu, in the department of
T'ai-an [5]. Confucius was present as master of ceremonies on the part of
Lu, and the meeting was professedly pacific. The two princes were to form
a covenant of alliance. The principal officer on the part of Ch'i, however,
despising Confucius as 'a man of ceremonies, without courage,' had advised
his sovereign to make the duke of Lu a prisoner, and for this purpose a
band of the half-savage original inhabitants of the place advanced with
weapons to the stage where the two dukes were met. Confucius understood
the scheme, and said to the opposite party, 'Our two princes are met for a
pacific object. For you to bring a band of savage vassals to disturb the
meeting with their weapons, is not the way in which Ch'i can expect to give
law to the princes of the kingdom. These barbarians have nothing to do
with our Great Flowery land. Such vassals may not interfere with our
covenant. Weapons are out of place at such a meeting. As before the
spirits, such conduct is unpropitious. In point of virtue, it is contrary to
right. As between man and man, it is not polite.' The duke of Ch'i ordered
the disturbers off, but Confucius withdrew, carrying the duke of Lu with
him. The business proceeded, notwithstanding, and when the words of the
alliance were being read on the part of Ch'i,-- ' So be it to Lu, if it
contribute not 300 chariots of war to the help of Ch'i, when its army goes
across its borders,' a messenger from Confucius added, 'And so be it to us,
if we obey your orders, unless you return to us the fields on the south of
the Wan.' At the conclusion of the ceremonies, the prince of Ch'i wanted to
give a grand entertainment, but Confucius demonstrated that such a thing
would be
1 左傳, 定公元年. contrary to the established rules of propriety, his real object being to
keep his sovereign out of danger. In this way the two parties separated,
they of Ch'i filled with shame at being foiled and disgraced by 'the man of
ceremonies;' and the result was that the lands of Lu which had been
appropriated by Ch'i were restored [1].
For two years more Confucius held the office of minister of Crime. Some
have supposed that he was further raised to the dignity of chief minister
of the State [2], but that was not the case. One instance of the manner in
which he executed his functions is worth recording. When any matter came
before him, he took the opinion of different individuals upon it, and in
giving judgment would say, 'I decide according to the view of so and so.'
There was an approach to our jury system in the plan, Confucius's object
being to enlist general sympathy, and carry the public judgment with him
in his administration of justice. A father having brought some charge
against his son, Confucius kept them both in prison for three months,
without making any difference in favour of the father, and then wished to
dismiss them both. The head of the Chi was dissatisfied, and said, 'You are
playing with me, Sir minister of Crime. Formerly you told me that in a
State or a family filial duty was the first thing to be insisted on. What
hinders you now from putting to death this unfilial son as an example to
all the people?' Confucius with a sigh replied, 'When superiors fail in their
duty, and yet go to put their inferiors to death, it is not right. This father
has not taught his son to be filial; to listen to his charge would be to slay
the guiltless. The manners of the age have been long in a sad condition; we
cannot expect the people not to be transgressing the laws [3].'
At this time two of his disciples, Tsze-lu and Tsze-yu, entered the
employment of the Chi family, and lent their influence, the former
especially, to forward the plans of their master. One great cause of disorder
in the State was the fortified cities held by the three chiefs, in which they
could defy the supreme authority, and were in turn defied themselves by
their officers. Those cities were like the castles of the barons of England in
the time of the Norman
1 This meeting at Chia-ku is related in Sze-ma Ch'ien, the 'Narratives of
the school,' and Ku-liang, with many exaggerations. I have followed 左氏傳,
定公十年. kings. Confucius had their destruction very much at heart, and partly by
the influence of persuasion, and partly by the assisting counsels of Tsze-lu,
he accomplished his object in regard to Pi [1], the chief city of the Chi, and
Hau [2], the chief city of the Shu.
It does not appear that he succeeded in the same way in dismantling
Ch'ang [3], the chief city of the Mang [4]; but his authority in the State
greatly increased. 'He strengthened the ducal House and weakened the
private Families. He exalted the sovereign, and depressed the ministers. A
transforming government went abroad. Dishonesty and dissoluteness were
ashamed and hid their heads. Loyalty and good faith became the
characteristics of the men, and chastity and docility those of the women.
Strangers came in crowds from other States [5].' Confucius became the idol
of the people, and flew in songs through their mouths [6].
But this sky of bright promise was soon overcast. As the fame of the
reformations in Lu went abroad, the neighboring princes began to be
afraid. The duke of Ch'i said, 'With Confucius at the head of its government,
Lu will become supreme among the States, and Ch'i which is nearest to it
will be the first swallowed up. Let us propitiate it by a surrender of
territory.' One of his ministers proposed that they should first try to
separate between the sage and his sovereign, and to effect this, they hit
upon the following scheme. Eighty beautiful girls, with musical and dancing
accomplishments, and a hundred and twenty of the finest horses that could
be found, were selected, and sent as a present to duke Ting. They were put
up at first outside the city, and Chi Hwan having gone in disguise to see
them, forgot the lessons of Confucius, and took the duke to look at the bait.
They were both captivated. The women were received, and the sage was
neglected. For three days the duke gave no audience to his ministers.
'Master,' said Tsze-lu to Confucius, 'it is time for you to be going.' But
Confucius was very unwilling to leave. The spring was coming on, when the
sacrifice to Heaven would be offered, and he determined to wait and see
whether the
1 費. solemnization of that would bring the duke back to his right mind. No
such result followed. The ceremony was hurried through, and portions of
the offerings were not sent round to the various ministers, according to the
established custom. Confucius regretfully took his departure, going away
slowly and by easy stages [1]. He would have welcomed a message of
recall. But the duke continued in his abandonment, and the sage went forth
to thirteen weary years of homeless wandering.
8. On leaving Lu, Confucius first bent his steps westward to the State of
Wei, situate about where the present provinces of Chih-li and Ho-nan
adjoin.
[Sidebar] He wanders from State to State. B.C. 497-484.
He was now in his fifty-sixth year, and felt depressed and melancholy.
As he went along, he gave expression to his feelings in verse:--
'Fain would I still look towards Lu, and again,-- 'Through the valley howls the blast, A number of his disciples accompanied him, and his sadness infected
them. When they arrived at the borders of Wei at a place called I, the
warden sought an interview, and on coming out from the sage, he tried to
comfort the disciples, saying, 'My friends, why are you distressed at your
master's loss of office? The world has been long without the principles of
truth and right; Heaven is going to use your master as a bell with its
wooden tongue [3].' Such was the thought of this friendly stranger. The bell
did indeed sound, but few had ears to hear.
1 史記, 孔子世家, p. 5. See also Mencius, V. Pt. II. i. 4.; et al. Confucius's fame, however, had gone before him, and he was in little
danger of having to suffer from want. On arriving at the capital of Wei, he
lodged at first with a worthy officer, named Yen Ch'au-yu [1]. The reigning
duke, known to us by the epithet of Ling [2], was a worthless, dissipated
man, but he could not neglect a visitor of such eminence, and soon assigned
to Confucius a revenue of 60,000 measures of grain [3]. Here he remained
for ten months, and then for some reason left it to go to Ch'an [4]. On the
way he had to pass by K'wang [5], a place probably in the present
department of K'ai-fung in Ho-nan, which had formerly suffered from
Yang-hu. It so happened that Confucius resembled Hu, and the attention of
the people being called to him by the movements of his carriage-driver,
they thought it was their old enemy, and made an attack upon him. His
followers were alarmed, but he was calm, and tried to assure them by
declaring his belief that he had a divine mission. He said to them, 'After
the death of king Wan, was not the cause of truth lodged here in me? If
Heaven had wished to let this cause of truth perish, then I, a future mortal,
should not have got such a relation to that cause. While Heaven does not
let the cause of truth perish, what can the people of K'wang do to me [6]?'
Having escaped from the hands of his assailants, he does not seem to have
carried out his purpose of going to Ch'an, but returned to Wei.
On the way, he passed a house where he had formerly lodged, and
finding that the master was dead, and the funeral ceremonies going on, he
went in to condole and weep. When he came out, he told Tsze-kung to take
the outside horses from his carriage, and give them as a contribution to the
expenses of the occasion. 'You never did such a thing,' Tsze-kung
remonstrated, 'at the funeral of any of your disciples; is it not too great a
gift on this occasion of the death of an old host?' 'When I went in,' replied
Confucius, 'my presence brought a burst of grief from the chief mourner,
and I joined him with my tears. I dislike the thought of my tears not being
followed by anything. Do it, my child [7].' On reaching Wei, he lodged with
Chu Po-yu, an officer of whom
1 顏讎由. See Mencius, V. Pt. I. viii. 2. honourable mention is made in the Analects [1]. But this time he did not
remain long in the State. The duke was
[Sidebar] B.C. 495.
married to a lady of the house of Sung, known by the name of Nan-tsze,
notorious for her intrigues and wickedness. She sought an interview with
the sage, which he was obliged unwillingly to accord [2]. No doubt he was
innocent of thought or act of evil, but it gave great dissatisfaction to Tsze-
lu that his master should have been in company with such a woman, and
Confucius, to assure him, swore an oath, saying, 'Wherein I have done
improperly, may Heaven reject me! May Heaven reject me [3]!' He could
not well abide, however, about such a court. One day the duke rode out
through the streets of his capital in the same carriage with Nan-tsze, and
made Confucius follow them in another. Perhaps he intended to honour the
philosopher, but the people saw the incongruity, and cried out, 'Lust in the
front; virtue behind!' Confucius was ashamed, and made the observation, 'I
have not seen one who loves virtue as he loves beauty [4].' Wei was no
place for him. He left it, and took his way towards Ch'an.
Ch'an, which formed part of the present province of Ho-nan, lay south
from Wei. After passing the small State of Ts'ao [5], he approached the
borders of Sung, occupying the present prefecture of Kwei-teh, and had
some intentions of entering it, when an incident occurred, which it is not
easy to understand from the meagre style in which it is related, but which
gave occasion to a remarkable saying. Confucius was practising ceremonies
with his disciples, we are told, under the shade of a large tree. Hwan T'ui,
an ill-minded officer of Sung, heard of it, and sent a band of men to pull
down the tree, and kill the philosopher, if they could get hold of him. The
disciples were much alarmed, but Confucius observed, 'Heaven has
produced the virtue that is in me; what can Hwan T'ui do to me [6]?' They
all made their escape, but seem to have been driven westwards to the
State of Chang [7], on arriving at the gate conducting into which from the
east, Confucius found himself separated from his followers. Tsze-kung had
arrived before him, and was told by a native of Chang that there was a
man standing by the east gate, with a forehead like Yao, a neck like Kao-
yao, his shoulders on a level with those of Tsze-ch'an, but wanting, below
the waist, three
1 Ana. XIV. xxvi; XV. vi. inches of the height of Yu, and altogether having the disconsolate
appearance of a stray dog.' Tsze-kung knew it was the master, hastened to
him, and repeated to his great amusement the description which the man
had given. 'The bodily appearance,' said Confucius, 'is but a small matter,
but to say I was like a stray dog,-- capital! capital!' The stay they made at
Chang was short, and by the end of B.C. 495, Confucius was in Ch'an.
All the next year he remained there, lodging with the warder of the city
wall, an officer of worth, of the name of Chang [2], and we have no
accounts of him which deserve to be related here [3].
In B.C. 494, Ch'an was much disturbed by attacks from Wu [4], a large
State, the capital of which was in the present department of Su-chau, and
Confucius determined to retrace his steps to Wei. On the way he was laid
hold of at a place called P'u [5], which was held by a rebellious officer
against Wei, and before he could get away, he was obliged to engage that
he would not proceed thither. Thither, notwithstanding, he continued his
route, and when Tsze-kung asked him whether it was right to violate the
oath he had taken, he replied, 'It was a forced oath. The spirits do not hear
such [6].' 'The duke Ling received him with distinction, but paid no more
attention to his lessons than before, and Confucius is said then to have
uttered his complaint, 'If there were any of the princes who would employ
me, in the course of twelve months I should have done something
considerable. In three years the government would be perfected [7].'
A circumstance occurred to direct his attention to the State of Tsin [8],
which occupied the southern part of the present Shan-hsi, and extended
over the Yellow river into Ho-nan. An invitation came to Confucius, like
that which he had formerly received from Kung-shan Fu-zao. Pi Hsi, an
officer of Tsin, who was holding the town of Chung-mau against his chief,
invited him to visit him, and Confucius was inclined to go. Tsze-lu was
always the mentor on such occasions. He said to him, 'Master, I have heard
you say,
1 See the 史記, 孔子世家, p. 6. that when a man in his own person is guilty of doing evil, a superior
man will not associate with him. Pi Hsi is in rebellion; if you go to him,
what shall be said?' Confucius replied, 'Yes, I did use those words. But is it
not said that if a thing be really hard, it may be ground without being
made thin; and if it be really white, it may be steeped in a dark fluid
without being made black? Am I a bitter gourd? Am I to be hung up out of
the way of being eaten [1]?'
These sentiments sound strangely from his lips. After all, he did not go
to Pi Hsi; and having travelled as far as the Yellow river that he might see
one of the principal ministers of Tsin, he heard of the violent death of two
men of worth, and returned to Wei, lamenting the fate which prevented
him from crossing the stream, and trying to solace himself with poetry as
he had done on leaving Lu. Again did he communicate with the duke, but
as ineffectually, and disgusted at being questioned by him about military
tactics, he left and went back to Ch'an.
He resided in Ch'an all the next year, B.C. 491, without anything
occurring there which is worthy of note [2]. Events had transpired in Lu,
however, which were to issue in his return to his native State. The duke
Ting had deceased B.C. 494, and Chi Hwan, the chief of the Chi family, died
in this year. On his death-bed, he felt remorse for his conduct to Confucius,
and charged his successor, known to us in the Analects as Chi K'ang, to
recall the sage; but the charge was not immediately fulfilled. Chi K'ang, by
the advice of one of his officers, sent to Ch'an for the disciple Yen Ch'iu
instead. Confucius willingly sent him off, and would gladly have
accompanied him. 'Let me return!' he said, 'Let me return [3]!' But that was
not to be for several years yet.
In B.C. 490, accompanied, as usual, by several of his disciples, he went
from Ch'an to Ts'ai, a small dependency of the great fief of Ch'u, which
occupied a large part of the present provinces of Hu-nan and Hu-pei. On
the way, between Ch'an and Ts'ai, their provisions became exhausted, and
they were cut off somehow from obtaining a fresh supply. The disciples
were quite overcome with want, and Tsze-lu said to the master, 'Has the
superior man indeed to endure in this way?' Confucius answered him, 'The
superior man may indeed have to endure want; but the mean man
l Ana. XVII. vii. when he is in want, gives way to unbridled license [1].' According to the
'Narratives of the School,' the distress continued seven days, during which
time Confucius retained his equanimity, and was even cheerful, playing on
his lute and singing [2]. He retained, however, a strong impression of the
perils of the season, and we find him afterwards recurring to it, and
lamenting that of the friends that were with him in Ch'an and Ts'ai, there
were none remaining to enter his door [3].
Escaped from this strait, he remained in Ts'ai over B.C. 489, and in the
following year we find him in Sheh, another district of Ch'u, the chief of
which had taken the title of duke, according to the usurping policy of that
State. Puzzled about his visitor, he asked Tsze-lu what he should think of
him, but the disciple did not venture a reply. When Confucius heard of it,
he said to Tsze-lu. 'Why did you not say to him:-- He is simply a man who
in his eager pursuit of knowledge forgets his food, who in the joy of its
attainment forgets his sorrows, and who does not perceive that old age is
coming on [4]?' Subsequently, the duke, in conversation with Confucius,
asked him about government, and got the reply, dictated by some
circumstances of which we are ignorant, 'Good government obtains, when
those who are near are made happy, and those who are far off are
attracted [5]'
After a short stay in Sheh, according to Sze-ma Ch'ien, he returned to
Ts'ai, and having to dross a river, he sent Tsze-lu to inquire for the ford of
two men who were at work in a neighboring field. They were recluses,
men who had withdrawn from public life in disgust at the waywardness of
the times. One of them was called Ch'ang-tsu, and instead of giving Tsze-lu
the information he wanted, he asked him, 'Who is it that holds the reins in
the carriage there?' 'It is K'ung Ch'iu.' 'K'ung Ch'iu of Lu?' 'Yes,' was the
reply, and then the man rejoined, 'He knows the ford.'
Tsze-lu applied to the other, who was called Chieh-ni, but got for
answer the question, 'Who are you, Sir?' He replied, 'I am Chung Yu.'
'Chung Yu, who is the disciple of K'ung Ch'iu of Lu?' 'Yes,' again replied
Tsze-lu, and Chieh-ni said to him, 'Disorder, like a swelling flood, spreads
over the whole kingdom,
1 Ana. XV. i. 2, 3. and who is he that will change it for you? Than follow one who merely
withdraws from this one and that one, had you not better follow those who
withdraw from the world altogether?' With this he fell to covering up the
seed, and gave no more heed to the stranger. Tsze-lu went back and
reported what they had said, when Confucius vindicated his own course,
saying. 'It is impossible to associate with birds and beasts as if they were
the same with us. If I associate not with these people,-- with mankind,--
with whom shall I associate? If right principles prevailed through the
kingdom, there would be no need for me to change its state [1].'
About the same time he had an encounter with another recluse, who
was known as 'The madman of Ch'u.' He passed by the carriage of
Confucius, singing out, 'O phoenix, O phoenix, how is your virtue
degenerated! As to the past, reproof is useless, but the future may be
provided against. Give up, give up your vain pursuit.' Confucius alighted
and wished to enter into conversation with him, but the man hastened
away [2].
But now the attention of the ruler of Ch'u -- king, as he styled himself --
was directed to the illustrious stranger who was in his dominions, and he
met Confucius and conducted him to his capital, which was in the present
district of I-ch'ang, in the department of Hsiang-yang [3], in Hu-pei. After a
time, he proposed endowing the philosopher with a considerable territory,
but was dissuaded by his prime minister, who said to him, 'Has your
majesty any officer who could discharge the duties of an ambassador like
Tsze-kung? or any one so qualified for a premier as Yen Hui? or any one to
compare as a general with Tsze-lu? The kings Wan and Wu, from their
hereditary dominions of a hundred li, rose to the sovereignty of the
kingdom. If K'ung Ch'iu, with such disciples to be his ministers, get the
possession of any territory, it will not be to the prosperity of Ch'u [4]? On
this remonstrance the king gave up his purpose; and, when he died in the
same year, Confucius left the State, and went back again to Wei.
The duke Ling had died four years before, soon after Confucius
[Sidebar] B.C. 489.
had last parted from him, and the reigning duke, known to us by the
title of Ch'u [5], was his grandson, and was holding the principality against
his own father. The relations
1 Ana. XVIII. vi. between them were rather complicated. The father had been driven out
in consequence of an attempt which he had instigated on the life of his
step-mother, the notorious Nan-tsze, and the succession was given to his
son. Subsequently, the father wanted to reclaim what he deemed his right,
and an unseemly struggle ensued. The duke Ch'u was conscious how much
his cause would be strengthened by the support of Confucius, and hence
when he got to Wei, Tsze-lu could say to him, 'The prince of Wei has been
waiting for you, in order with you to administer the government;-- what
will you consider the first thing to be done [1]?' The opinion of the
philosopher, however, was against the propriety of the duke's course [2],
and he declined taking office with him, though he remained in Wei for
between five and six years. During all that time there is a blank in his
history. In the very year of his return, according to the 'Annals of the
Empire,' his most beloved disciple, Yen Hui, died, on which occasion he
exclaimed, 'Alas! Heaven is destroying me! Heaven is destroying me [3]!'
The death of his wife is assigned to B.C. 484, but nothing else is related
which we can connect with this long period.
9. His return to Lu was brought about by the disciple Yen Yu, who, we
have seen, went into the service of Chi K'ang, in B.C. 491.
[Sidebar] From his return to Lu to his death. B.C. 484-478.
In the year B.C. 483, Yu had the conduct of some military operations
against Ch'i, and being successful, Chi K'ang asked him how he had
obtained his military skill;-- was it from nature, or by learning? He replied
that he had learned it from Confucius, and entered into a glowing eulogy of
the philosopher. The chief declared that he would bring Confucius home
again to Lu. 'If you do so,' said the disciple, 'see that you do not let mean
men come between you and him.' On this K'ang sent three officers with
appropriate presents to Wei, to invite the wanderer home, and he returned
with them accordingly [4].
This event took place in the eleventh year of the duke Ai [5], who
succeeded to Ting, and according to K'ung Fu, Confucius's descendant, the
invitation proceeded from him [6]. We may suppose that
1 Ana. XIII. iii. In the notes on this passage, I have given Chu Hsi's
opinion as to the time when Tsze-lu made this remark. It seems more
correct, however, to refer it to Confucius's return to Wei from Ch'u, as is
done by Chiang Yung. while Chi K'ang was the mover and director of the proceeding, it was
with the authority and approval of the duke. It is represented in the
chronicle of Tso Ch'iu-ming as having occurred at a very opportune time.
The philosopher had been consulted a little before by K'ung Wan [1], an
officer of Wei, about how he should conduct a feud with another officer,
and disgusted at being referred to on such a subject, had ordered his
carriage and prepared to leave the State, exclaiming, 'The bird chooses its
tree. The tree does not choose the bird.' K'ung Wan endeavoured to excuse
himself, and to prevail on Confucius to remain in Wei, and just at this
juncture the messengers from Lu arrived [2].
Confucius was now in his sixty-ninth year. The world had not dealt
kindly with him. In every State which he had visited he had met with
disappointment and sorrow. Only five more years remained to him, nor
were they of a brighter character than the past. He had, indeed, attained to
that state, he tells us, in which 'he could follow what his heart desired
without transgressing what was right [3],' but other people were not more
inclined than they had been to abide by his counsels. The duke Ai and Chi
K'ang often conversed with him, but he no longer had weight in the
guidance of state affairs, and wisely addressed himself to the completion of
his literary labors. He wrote a preface, according to Sze-ma Ch'ien, to the
Shu-ching; carefully digested the rites and ceremonies determined by the
wisdom of the more ancient sages and kings; collected and arranged the
ancient poetry; and undertook the reform of music [4]. He has told us
himself. 'I returned from Wei to Lu, and then the music was reformed, and
the pieces in the Songs of the Kingdom and Praise Songs found all their
proper place [5].' To the Yi-ching he devoted much study, and Sze-ma
Ch'ien says that the leather thongs by which the tablets of his copy were
bound together were thrice worn out. 'If some years were added to my
life,' he said, 'I would give fifty to the study of the Yi, and then I might
come to be without great faults [6].' During this time also, we may suppose
that he supplied Tsang Shan with the materials of the classic of Filial Piety.
The same year that he returned, Chi Kang sent Yen Yu to ask his opinion
about an
1 孔文子, the same who is mentioned in the Analects, V. xiv. additional impost which he wished to lay upon the people, but Confucius
refused to give any reply, telling the disciple privately his disapproval of
the proposed measure. It was carried out, however, in the following year,
by the agency of Yen, on which occasion, I suppose, it was that Confucius
said to the other disciples, 'He is no disciple of mine; my little children,
beat the drum and assail him [1].' The year B.C. 483 was marked by the
death of his son Li, which he seems to have borne with more equanimity
than he did that of his disciple Yen Hui, which some writers assign to the
following year, though I have already mentioned it under the year B.C.
489.
In the spring of B.C. 481, a servant of Chi K'ang caught a Ch'i-lin on a
hunting excursion of the duke in the present district of Chia-hsiang [2]. No
person could tell what strange animal it was, and Confucius was called to
look at it. He at once knew it to be a lin, and the legend-writers say
that it bore on one of its horns the piece of ribbon, which his mother had
attached to the one that appeared to her before his birth. According to the
chronicle of Kung-yang, he was profoundly affected. He cried out, 'For
whom have you come? For whom have you come?' His tears flowed freely,
and he added, 'The course of my doctrines is run [3].'
Notwithstanding the appearance of the lin, the life of Confucius
was still protracted for two years longer, though he took occasion to
terminate with that event his history of the Ch'un Ch'iu. This Work,
according to Sze-ma Ch'ien, was altogether the production of this year, but
we heed not suppose that it was so. In it, from the standpoint of Lu, he
briefly indicates the principal events occurring throughout the country,
every term being expressive, it is said, of the true character of the actors
and events described. Confucius said himself, 'It is the Spring and Autumn
which will make men know me, and it is the Spring and Autumn which
will make men condemn me [4].' Mencius makes the composition of it to
have been an achievement as great as Yu's regulation of the waters of the
deluge:-- 'Confucius completed the Spring and Autumn, and rebellious
ministers and villainous sons were struck with terror [5].'
Towards the end of this year, word came to Lu that the duke
1 Ana. XI. xvi. of Ch'i had been murdered by one of his officers. Confucius was moved
with indignation. Such an outrage he felt, called for his solemn
interference. He bathed, went to court, and represented the matter to the
duke, saying, 'Ch'an Hang has slain his sovereign, I beg that you will
undertake to punish him.' The duke pleaded his incapacity, urging that Lu
was weak compared with Ch'i, but Confucius replied, 'One half the people
of Ch'i are not consenting to the deed. If you add to the people of Lu one
half the people of Ch'i, you are sure to overcome.' But he could not infuse
his spirit into the duke, who told him to go and lay the matter before the
chiefs of the three Families. Sorely against his sense of propriety, he did so,
but they would not act, and he withdrew with the remark, 'Following in
the rear of the great officers, I did not dare not to represent such a matter
[1].'
In the year B.C. 479, Confucius had to mourn the death of another of his
disciples, one of those who had been longest with him, the well-known
Tsze-lu. He stands out a sort of Peter in the Confucian school, a man of
impulse, prompt to speak and prompt to act. He gets many a check from
the master, but there is evidently a strong sympathy between them. Tsze-
lu uses a freedom with him on which none of the other disciples dares to
venture, and there is not one among them all, for whom, if I may speak
from my own feeling, the foreign student comes to form such a liking. A
pleasant picture is presented to us in one passage of the Analects. It is
said, 'The disciple Min was standing by his side, looking bland and precise;
Tsze-lu (named Yu), looking bold and soldierly; Yen Yu and Tsze-kung,
with a free and straightforward manner. The master was pleased, but he
observed, "Yu there!-- he will not die a natural death [2]."'
This prediction was verified. When Confucius returned to Lu from Wei,
he left Tsze-lu and Tsze-kao [3] engaged there in official service. Troubles
arose. News came to Lu, B.C. 479, that a revolution was in progress in Wei,
and when Confucius heard it, he said, 'Ch'ai will come here, but Yu will die
[4].' So it turned out. When Tsze-kao saw that matters were desperate he
made his escape, but Tsze-lu would not forsake the chief who had treated
1 See the 左傳, 哀公十四年 and Analects XIV. xxii. him well. He threw himself into the melee, and was slain. Confucius
wept sore for him, but his own death was not far off. It took place on the
eleventh day of the fourth month in the same year, B.C. 479 [1]. Early one
morning, we are told, he got up, and with his hands behind his back,
dragging his staff, he moved about by his door, crooning over,--
'The great mountain must crumble; After a little, he entered the house and sat down opposite the door.
Tsze-kung had heard his words, and said to himself, 'If the great mountain
crumble, to what shall I look up? If the strong beam break, and the wise
man wither away, on whom shall I lean? The master, I fear, is going to be
ill.' With this he hastened into the house. Confucius said to him, 'Ts'ze, what
makes you so late? According to the statutes of Hsia, the corpse was
dressed and coffined at the top of the eastern steps, treating the dead as if
he were still the host. Under the Yin, the ceremony was performed
between the two pillars, as if the dead were both host and guest. The rule
of Chau is to perform it at the top of the western steps, treating the dead
as if he were a guest. I am a man of Yin, and last night I dreamt that I was
sitting with offerings before me between the two pillars. No intelligent
monarch arises; there is not one in the kingdom that will make me his
master. My time has come to die.' So it was. He went to his couch, and after
seven days expired [2].
Such is the account which we have of the last hours of the great
philosopher of China. His end was not unimpressive, but it was melancholy.
He sank behind a cloud. Disappointed hopes made his soul bitter. The great
ones of the kingdom had not received his teachings. No wife nor child was
by to do the kindly offices of affection for him. Nor were the expectations
of another life present with him as he passed through the dark valley. He
uttered no prayer, and he betrayed no apprehensions. Deep-treasured in
his own heart may have been the thought that he had endeavoured to
serve his generation by the will of God, but he gave no sign. 'The mountain
falling came to nought, and the rock was removed
1 See the 左傳, 哀公十六年, and Chiang Yung's Life of Confucius, in
loc. out of his place. So death prevailed against him and he passed; his
countenance was changed, and he was sent away.'
10. I flatter myself that the preceding paragraphs contain a more
correct narrative of the principal incidents in the life of Confucius than has
yet been given in any European language. They might easily have been
expanded into a volume, but I did not wish to exhaust the subject, but only
to furnish a sketch, which, while it might satisfy the general reader, would
be of special assistance to the careful student of the classical Books. I had
taken many notes of the manifest errors in regard to chronology and other
matters in the 'Narratives of the School,' and the chapter of Sze-ma Ch'ien
on the K'ung family, when the digest of Chiang Yung, to which I have made
frequent reference, attracted my attention. Conclusions to which I had
come were confirmed, and a clue was furnished to difficulties which I was
seeking to disentangle. I take the opportunity to acknowledge here my
obligations to it. With a few notices of Confucius's habits and manners, I
shall conclude this section.
Very little can be gathered from reliable sources on the personal
appearance of the sage. The height of his father is stated, as I have noted,
to have been ten feet, and though Confucius came short of this by four
inches, he was often called 'the tall man.' It is allowed that the ancient foot
or cubit was shorter than the modem, but it must be reduced more than
any scholar I have consulted has yet done, to bring this statement within
the range of credibility. The legends assign to his figure 'nine-and-forty
remarkable peculiarities [1],' a tenth part of which would have made him
more a monster than a man. Dr. Morrison says that the images of him
which he had seen in the northern parts of China, represent him as of a
dark, swarthy colour [2]. It is not so with those common in the south. He
was, no doubt, in size and complexion much the same as many of his
descendants in the present day. Dr. Edkins and myself enjoyed the services
of two of those descendants, who acted as 'wheelers' in the wheelbarrows
which conveyed us from Ch'u-fau to a town on the Grand Canal more than
250 miles off. They were strong, capable men, both physically and
mentally superior to their companions.
1 四十九表. But if his disciples had nothing to chronicle of his personal appearance,
they have gone very minutely into an account of many of his habits. The
tenth Book of the Analects is all occupied with his deportment, his eating,
and his dress. In public, whether in the village, the temple, or the court, he
was the man of rule and ceremony, but 'at home he was not formal.' Yet if
not formal, he was particular. In bed even he did not forget himself;-- 'he
did not lie like a corpse,' and 'he did not speak.' 'He required his sleeping
dress to be half as long again as his body.' 'If he happened to be sick, and
the prince came to visit him, he had his face set to the east, made his court
robes be put over him, and drew his girdle across them.'
He was nice in his diet,-- 'not disliking to have his rice dressed fine, nor
to have his minced meat cut small.' 'Anything at all gone he would not
touch.' 'He must have his meat cut properly, and to every kind its proper
sauce; but he was not a great eater.' 'It was only in drink that he laid down
no limit to himself, but he did not allow himself to be confused by it.'
'When the villagers were drinking together, on those who carried staffs
going out, he went out immediately after.' There must always be ginger at
the table, and 'when eating, he did not converse.' 'Although his food might
be coarse rice and poor soup, he would offer a little of it in sacrifice, with a
grave, respectful air.'
'On occasion of a sudden clap of thunder, or a violent wind, he would
change countenance. He would do the same, and rise up moreover, when
he found himself a guest at a loaded board.' 'At the sight of a person in
mourning, he would also change countenance, and if he happened to be in
his carriage, he would bend forward with a respectful salutation.' 'His
general way in his carriage was not to turn his head round, nor talk
hastily, nor point with his hands.' He was charitable. 'When any of his
friends died, if there were no relations who could be depended on for the
necessary offices, he would say, "I will bury him."
'The disciples were so careful to record these and other characteristics
of their master, it is said, because every act, of movement or of rest, was
closely associated with the great principles which it was his object to
inculcate. The detail of so many small matters, however, hardly impresses
a foreigner so favourably. There rather seems to be a want of freedom
about the philosopher.
SECTION II. 1. Confucius died, we have seen, complaining that of all the princes of
the kingdom there was not one who would adopt his
[Sidebar] Homage rendered to Confucius by the sovereigns of
China.
principles and obey his lessons. He had hardly passed from the stage of
life, when his merit began to be acknowledged. When the duke Ai heard of
his death, he pronounced his eulogy in the words, 'Heaven has not left to
me the aged man. There is none now to assist me on the throne. Woe is me!
Alas! O venerable Ni [1]!' Tsze-kung complained of the inconsistency of this
lamentation from one who could not use the master when he was alive, but
the prince was probably sincere in his grief. He caused a temple to be
erected, and ordered that sacrifice should be offered to the sage, at the
four seasons of the year [2].
The sovereigns of the tottering dynasty of Chau had not the intelligence,
nor were they in a position, to do honour to the departed philosopher, but
the facts detailed in the first chapter of these prolegomena, in connexion
with the attempt of the founder of the Ch'in dynasty to destroy the literary
monuments of antiquity, show how the authority of Confucius had come by
that time to prevail through the nation. The founder of the Han dynasty, in
passing through Lu, B.C. 195, visited his tomb and offered the three victims
in sacrifice to him. Other sovereigns since then have often made
pilgrimages to the spot. The most famous temple in the empire now rises
near the place of the grave. The second and greatest of the rulers of the
present dynasty, in the twenty-third year of his reign, the K'ang-hsi
period, there set the example of kneeling thrice, and each time laying his
forehead thrice in the dust, before the image of the sage.
In the year of our Lord 1, began the practice of conferring honourary
designations on Confucius by imperial authority. The emperor Ping [3] then
styled him-- 'The duke Ni, all-complete and
l Li Chi, II. Sect. I. iii. 43. This eulogy is found at greater length in the 左傳,
immediately after the notice of the sage's death. illustrious [1].' This was changed, in A.D. 492, to-- 'The venerable Ni, the
accomplished Sage [2].' Other titles have supplanted this. Shun-chih [3], the
first of the Man-chau dynasty, adopted, in his second year, A.D. 1645, the
style, 'K'ung, the ancient Teacher, accomplished and illustrious, all-
complete, the perfect Sage [4];' but twelve years later, a shorter title was
introduced,-- 'K'ung, the ancient Teacher, the perfect Sage [5].' Since that
year no further alteration has been made.
At first, the worship of Confucius was confined to the country of Lu, but
in A.D. 57 it was enacted that sacrifices should be offered to him in the
imperial college, and in all the colleges of the principal territorial divisions
throughout the empire. In those sacrifices he was for some centuries
associated with the duke of Chau, the legislator to whom Confucius made
frequent reference, but in A.D. 609 separate temples were assigned to
them, and in 628 our sage displaced the older worthy altogether. About
the same time began the custom, which continues to the present day, of
erecting temples to him,-- separate structures, in connexion with all the
colleges, or examination-halls, of the country.
The sage is not alone in those temples. In a hall behind the principal one
occupied by himself are the tablets -- in some cases, the images -- of
several of his ancestors, and other worthies; while associated with himself
are his principal disciples, and many who in subsequent times have
signalized themselves as expounders and exemplifiers of his doctrines. On
the first day of every month, offerings of fruits and vegetables are set
forth, and on the fifteenth there is a solemn burning of incense. But twice a
year, in the middle months of spring and autumn, when the first ting
day [6] of the month comes round, the worship of Confucius is performed
with peculiar solemnity. At the imperial college the emperor himself is
required to attend in state, and is in fact the principal performer. After all
the preliminary arrangements have been made, and the emperor has twice
knelt and six times bowed his head to the earth, the presence of
Confucius's spirit is invoked in the words, 'Great art thou, O perfect sage!
Thy virtue is full; thy doctrine is complete. Among mortal men there has
not been thine equal. All kings honour thee. Thy statutes and laws have
come gloriously
1 成宣尼公. down. Thou art the pattern in this imperial school. Reverently have the
sacrificial vessels been set out. Full of awe, we sound our drums and bells
[1].'
The spirit is supposed now to be present, and the service proceeds
through various offerings, when the first of which has been set forth, an
officer reads the following [2], which is the prayer on the occasion:-- 'On
this ... month of this ... year, I, A.B., the emperor, offer a sacrifice to
the philosopher K'ung, the ancient Teacher, the perfect Sage, and say,-- O
Teacher, in virtue equal to Heaven and Earth, whose doctrines embrace the
past time and the present, thou didst digest and transmit the six classics,
and didst hand down lessons for all generations! Now in this second month
of spring (or autumn), in reverent observance of the old statutes, with
victims, silks, spirits, and fruits, I carefully offer sacrifice to thee. With
thee are associated the philosopher Yen, Continuator of thee; the
philosopher Tsang, Exhibiter of thy fundamental principles; the
philosopher Tsze-sze, Transmitter of thee; and the philosopher Mang,
Second to thee. May'st thou enjoy the offerings!'
I need not go on to enlarge on the homage which the emperors of China
render to Confucius. It could not be more complete. He was unreasonably
neglected when alive. He is now unreasonably venerated when dead.
2. The rulers of China are not singular in this matter, but in entire
sympathy with the mass of their people. It is the distinction
[Sidebar] General appreciation of Confucius.
of this empire that education has been highly prized in it from the
earliest times. It was so before the era of Confucius, and we may be sure
that the system met with his approbation. One of his remarkable sayings
was,-- 'To lead an uninstructed people to war is to throw them away [3].'
When he pronounced this judgment, he was not thinking of military
training, but of education in the duties of life and citizenship. A people so
taught, he thought, would be morally fitted to fight for their government.
Mencius, when lecturing to the ruler of T'ang on the proper way of
governing a kingdom, told him that he must provide the means of
education for all, the poor as well as the rich. 'Establish,' said he, 'hsiang,
hsu, hsio, and hsiao,-- all those educational institutions,-- for the
instruction of the people [4].'
1 2 See the 大清通禮卷十二. At the present day, education is widely diffused throughout China. In
few other countries is the schoolmaster more abroad, and in all schools it is
Confucius who is taught. The plan of competitive examinations, and the
selection for civil offices only from those who have been successful
candidates,-- good so far as the competition is concerned, but injurious
from the restricted range of subjects with which an acquaintance is
required,-- have obtained for more than twelve centuries. The classical
works are the text books. It is from them almost exclusively that the
themes proposed to determine the knowledge and ability of the students
are chosen. The whole of the magistracy of China is thus versed in all that
is recorded of the sage, and in the ancient literature which he preserved.
His thoughts are familiar to every man in authority, and his character is
more or less reproduced in him.
The official civilians of China, numerous as they are, are but a fraction
of its students, and the students, or those who make literature a
profession, are again but a fraction of those who attend school for a shorter
or longer period. Yet so far as the studies have gone, they have been
occupied with the Confucian writings. In the schoolrooms there is a tablet
or inscription on the wall, sacred to the sage, and every pupil is required,
on coming to school on the morning of the first and fifteenth of every
month, to bow before it, the first thing, as an act of reverence [1]. Thus all
in China who receive the slightest tincture of learning do so at the fountain
of Confucius. They learn of him and do homage to him at once. I have
repeatedly quoted the statement that during his life-time he had three
thousand disciples. Hundreds of millions are his disciples now. It is hardly
necessary to make any allowance in this statement for the followers of
Taoism and Buddhism, for, as Sir John Davis has observed, 'whatever the
other opinions or faith of a Chinese may be, he takes good care to treat
Confucius with respect [2].' For two thousand years he has reigned
supreme, the undisputed teacher of this most populous land.
3. This position and influence of Confucius are to be ascribed, I conceive,
chiefly to two causes:-- his being the preserver, namely of
l During the present dynasty, the tablet of 文昌帝君, the god of literature,
has to a considerable extent displaced that of Confucius in schools. Yet the
worship of him does not clash with that of the other. He is 'the father' of
composition only. the monuments of antiquity, and the exemplifier and expounder of
[Sidebar] The causes of his influence.
the maxims of the golden age of China; and the devotion to him of his
immediate disciples and their early followers. The national and the
personal are thus blended in him, each in its highest degree of excellence.
He was a Chinese of the Chinese; he is also represented as, and all now
believe him to have been, the beau ideal of humanity in its best and
noblest estate.
4. It may be well to bring forward here Confucius's own estimate of
himself and of his doctrines. It will serve to illustrate the
[Sidebar] His own estimate of himself and of his doctrines.
statements just made. The following are some of his sayings:-- 'The sage
and the man of perfect virtue;-- how dare I rank myself with them? It
may simply be said of me, that I strive to become such without satiety,
and teach others without weariness.' 'In letters I am perhaps equal to
other men; but the character of the superior man, carrying out in his
conduct what he professes, is what I have not yet attained to.' 'The leaving
virtue without proper cultivation; the not thoroughly discussing what is
learned; not being able to move towards righteousness of which a
knowledge is gained; and not being able to change what is not good;--
these are the things which occasion me solicitude.' 'I am not one who was
born in the possession of knowledge; I am one who is fond of antiquity and
earnest in seeking it there.' 'A transmitter and not a maker, believing in
and loving the ancients, I venture to compare myself with our old P'ang
[1].'
Confucius cannot be thought to speak of himself in these declarations
more highly than he ought to do. Rather we may recognise in them the
expressions of a genuine humility. He was conscious that personally he
came short in many things, but he toiled after the character, which he saw,
or fancied that he saw, in the ancient sages whom he acknowledged; and
the lessons of government and morals which he labored to diffuse were
those which had already been inculcated and exhibited by them.
Emphatically he was 'a transmitter and not a maker.' It is not to be
understood that he was not fully satisfied of the truth of the principles
which he had learned. He held them with the full approval and consent of
his own understanding. He believed that if they were acted on, they would
remedy the evils of his time.
1 All these passages are taken from the seventh Book of the Analects.
See chapters xxxiii, xxxii, iii, xix, and i. There was nothing to prevent rulers like Yao and Shun and the great Yu
from again arising, and a condition of happy tranquillity being realized
throughout the kingdom under their sway.
If in anything he thought himself 'superior and alone,' having attributes
which others could not claim, it was in his possessing a divine commission
as the conservator of ancient truth and rules. He does not speak very
definitely on this point. It is noted that 'the appointments of Heaven was
one of the subjects on which he rarely touched [1].' His most remarkable
utterance was that which I have already given in the sketch of his Life:--
'When he was put in fear in K'wang, he said, "After the death of king Wan,
was not the cause of truth lodged here in me? If Heaven had wished to let
this cause of truth perish, then I, a future mortal, should not have got such
a relation to that cause. While Heaven does not let the cause of truth
perish, what can the people of K'wang do to me [2]?"' Confucius, then, did
feel that he was in the world for a special purpose. But it was not to
announce any new truths, or to initiate any new economy. It was to
prevent what had previously been known from being lost. He followed in
the wake of Yao and Shun, of T'ang, and king Wan. Distant from the last by
a long interval of time, he would have said that he was distant from him
also by a great inferiority of character, but still he had learned the
principles on which they all happily governed the country, and in their
name he would lift up a standard against the prevailing lawlessness of his
age.
5. The language employed with reference to Confucius by his disciples
and their early followers presents a striking contrast with his own.
[Sidebar] Estimate of him by his disciples and their early
followers.
I have already, in writing of the scope and value of 'The Doctrine of the
Mean,' called attention to the extravagant eulogies of his grandson Tsze-
sze. He only followed the example which had been set by those among
whom the philosopher went in and out. We have the language of Yen Yuan,
his favourite, which is comparatively moderate, and simply expresses the
genuine admiration of a devoted pupil [3]. Tsze-kung on several occasions
spoke in a different style. Having heard that one of the chiefs of Lu had
said that he himself -- Tsze-kung -- was superior to Confucius, he
observed, 'Let me use the comparison of a house and its encompassing
wall. My wall
1 Ana. IX. i. only reaches to the shoulders. One may peep over it, and see whatever
is valuable in the apartments. The wall of my master is several fathoms
high. If one do not find the door and enter by it, he cannot see the rich
ancestral temple with its beauties, nor all the officers in their rich array.
But I may assume that they are few who find the door. The remark of the
chief was only what might have been expected [1]'
Another time, the same individual having spoken revilingly of
Confucius, Tsze-kung said, 'It is of no use doing so. Chung-ni cannot be
reviled. The talents and virtue of other men are hillocks and mounds
which may be stepped over. Chung-ni is the sun or moon, which it is not
possible to step over. Although a man may wish to cut himself off from the
sage, what harm can he do to the sun and moon? He only shows that he
does not know his own capacity [2].'
In conversation with a fellow-disciple, Tsze-kung took a still higher
flight. Being charged by Tsze-ch'in with being too modest, for that
Confucius was not really superior to him, he replied, 'For one word a man
is often deemed to be wise, and for one word he is often deemed to be
foolish. We ought to be careful indeed in what we say. Our master cannot
be attained to, just in the same way as the heavens cannot be gone up to
by the steps of a stair. Were our master in the position of the prince of a
State, or the chief of a Family, we should find verified the description
which has been given of a sage's rule:-- He would plant the people, and
forthwith they would be established; he would lead them on, and forthwith
they would follow him; he would make them happy, and forthwith
multitudes would resort to his dominions; he would stimulate them, and
forthwith they would be harmonious. While he lived, he would be glorious.
When he died, he would be bitterly lamented. How is it possible for him to
be attained to [3]?'
From these representations of Tsze-kung, it was not a difficult step for
Tsze-sze to take in exalting Confucius not only to the level of the ancient
sages, but as 'the equal of Heaven.' And Mencius took up the theme. Being
questioned by Kung-sun Ch'au, one of his disciples, about two
acknowledged sages, Po-i and I Yin, whether they were to be placed in the
same rank with Confucius, he replied, 'No. Since there were living men
until now, there never was another Confucius;' and then he proceeded to
fortify his
1 Ana. XIX. xxiii. opinion by the concurring testimony of Tsai Wo, Tsze-kung, and Yu Zo,
who all had wisdom, he thought, sufficient to know their master. Tsai Wo's
opinion was, 'According to my view of our master, he is far superior to Yao
and Shun.' Tsze-kung said, 'By viewing the ceremonial ordinances of a
prince, we know the character of his government. By hearing his music, we
know the character of his virtue. From the distance of a hundred ages
after, I can arrange, according to their merits, the kings of those hundred
ages;-- not one of them can escape me. From the birth of mankind till now,
there has never been another like our master.' Yu Zo said, 'Is it only among
men that it is so? There is the ch'i-lin among quadrupeds; the fung-hwang
among birds; the T'ai mountain among mounds and ant-hills; and rivers
and seas among rainpools. Though different in degree, they are the same in
kind. So the sages among mankind are also the same in kind. But they
stand out from their fellows, and rise above the level; and from the birth
of mankind till now, there never has been one so complete as Confucius
[1].' I will not indulge in farther illustration. The judgment of the sage's
disciples, of Tsze-sze, and of Mencius, has been unchallenged by the mass
of the scholars of China. Doubtless it pleases them to bow down at the
shrine of the Sage, for their profession of literature is thereby glorified. A
reflection of the honour done to him falls upon themselves. And the
powers that be, and the multitudes of the people, fall in with the judgment.
Confucius is thus, in the empire of China, the one man by whom all possible
personal excellence was exemplified, and by whom all possible lessons of
social virtue and political wisdom are taught.
6. The reader will be prepared by the preceding account not to expect to
find any light thrown by Confucius on the great problems of the human
condition and destiny. He did not speculate on the creation of things or the
end of them. He was not troubled to account for the origin of man, nor did
he seek to know about his hereafter. He meddled neither with physics nor
metaphysics [2].
[Sidebar] Subjects on which Confucius did not treat.-- That he
was unreligious, unspiritual, and open to the charge of insincerity.
The testimony of the Analects about the subjects of his teaching is the
following:-- 'His frequent themes of discourse were the Book
1 Mencius, II. Pt. I. ii. 23-28. of Poetry, the Book of History, and the maintenance of the rules of
Propriety.' 'He taught letters, ethics, devotion of soul, and truthfulness.'
'Extraordinary things; feats of strength; states of disorder; and spiritual
beings, he did not like to talk about [1].'
Confucius is not to be blamed for his silence on the subjects here
indicated. His ignorance of them was to a great extent his misfortune. He
had not learned them. No report of them had come to him by the ear; no
vision of them by the eye. And to his practical mind the toiling of thought
amid uncertainties seemed worse than useless.
The question has, indeed, been raised, whether he did not make changes
in the ancient creed of China [2], but I cannot believe that he did so
consciously and designedly. Had his idiosyncrasy been different, we might
have had expositions of the ancient views on some points, the effect of
which would have been more beneficial than the indefiniteness in which
they are now left, and it may be doubted so far, whether Confucius was not
unfaithful to his guides. But that he suppressed or added, in order to bring
in articles of belief originating with himself, is a thing not to be charged
against him.
I will mention two important subjects in regard to which there is a
conviction in my mind that he came short of the faith of the older sages.
The first is the doctrine of God. This name is common in the Shih-ching and
Shu-ching. Ti or Shang-Ti appears there as a personal being,
ruling in heaven and on earth, the author of man's moral nature, the
governor among the nations, by whom kings reign and princes decree
justice, the rewarder of the good, and the punisher of the bad. Confucius
preferred to speak of Heaven. Instances have already been given of this.
Two others may be cited:-- 'He who offends against Heaven has none to
whom he can pray [3]?' 'Alas! ' said he, 'there is no one that knows me.'
Tsze-kung said, 'What do you mean by thus saying that no one knows
you?' He replied, 'I do not murmur against Heaven. I do
[footnote continued from previous page] its scope and meaning, and up
to this time I have not been able to master it so as to speak positively
about it. It will come in due time, in its place, in the present Publication,
and I do not think that what I here say of Confucius will require much, if
any, modification.' So I wrote in 1861; and I at last accomplished a
translation of the Yi, which was published in 1882, as the sixteenth volume
of 'The Sacred Books of 'the East.' I should like to bring out a revision of
that version, with the Chinese text, so as to make it uniform with the
volumes of the Classics previously published. But as Yang Ho said to
Confucius, 'The years do not wait for us.' not grumble against men. My studies lie low, and my penetration rises
high. But there is Heaven;-- THAT knows me [1]!' Not once throughout the
Analects does he use the personal name. I would say that he was
unreligious rather than irreligious; yet by the coldness of his temperament
and intellect in this matter, his influence is unfavourable to the
development of ardent religious feeling among the Chinese people
generally; and he prepared the way for the speculations of the literati of
medieval and modern times, which have exposed them to the charge of
atheism.
Secondly, Along with the worship of God there existed in China, from
the earliest historical times, the worship of other spiritual beings,--
especially, and to every individual, the worship of departed ancestors.
Confucius recognised this as an institution to be devoutly observed. 'He
sacrificed to the dead as if they were present; he sacrificed to the spirits as
if the spirits were present. He said. "I consider my not being present at the
sacrifice as if I did not sacrifice [2]."' The custom must have originated
from a belief in the continued existence of the dead. We cannot suppose
that they who instituted it thought that with the cessation of this life on
earth there was a cessation also of all conscious being. But Confucius never
spoke explicitly on this subject. He tried to evade it. 'Chi Lu asked about
serving the spirits of the dead, and the master said, "While you are not
able to serve men, how can you serve their spirits?" The disciple added, "I
venture to ask about death," and he was answered, "While you do not
know life, how can you know about death [3]."' Still more striking is a
conversation with another disciple, recorded in the 'Narratives of the
School.' Tsze-kung asked him, saying, 'Do the dead have knowledge (of our
services, that is), or are they without knowledge?' The master replied, 'If I
were to say that the dead have such knowledge, I am afraid that filial sons
and dutiful grandsons would injure their substance in paying the last
offices to the departed; and if I were to say that the dead have not such
knowledge, I am afraid lest unfilial sons should leave their parents
unburied. You need not wish, Tsze, to know whether the dead have
knowledge or not. There is no present urgency about the point. Hereafter
you will know it for yourself [4].' Surely this was not the teaching proper
to a sage.
1 Ana. XIV. xxxvii. He said on one occasion that he had no concealments from his disciples
[1]. Why did he not candidly tell his real thoughts on so interesting a
subject? I incline to think that he doubted more than he believed. If the
case were not so, it would be difficult to account for the answer which he
returned to a question as to what constituted wisdom:-- 'To give one's self
earnestly,' said he, 'to the duties due to men, and, while respecting
spiritual beings, to keep aloof from them, may be called wisdom [2].' At
any rate, as by his frequent references to Heaven, instead of following the
phraseology of the older sages, he gave occasion to many of his professed
followers to identify God with a principle of reason and the course of
nature; so, in the point now in hand, he has led them to deny, like the
Sadducees of old, the existence of any spirit at all, and to tell us that their
sacrifices to the dead are but an outward form, the mode of expression
which the principle of filial piety requires them to adopt when its objects
have departed this life.
It will not be supposed that I wish to advocate or to defend the practice
of sacrificing to the dead. My object has been to point out how Confucius
recognised it, without acknowledging the faith from which it must have
originated, and how he enforced it as a matter of form or ceremony. It thus
connects itself with the most serious charge that can be brought against
him,-- the charge of insincerity. Among the four things which it is said he
taught, 'truthfulness' is specified [3], and many sayings might be quoted
from him, in which 'sincerity' is celebrated as highly and demanded as
stringently as ever it has been by any Christian moralist; yet he was not
altogether the truthful and true man to whom we accord our highest
approbation. There was the case of Mang Chih-fan, who boldly brought up
the rear of the defeated troops of Lu, and attributed his occupying the
place of honour to the backwardness of his horse. The action was gallant,
but the apology for it was weak and unnecessary. And yet Confucius saw
nothing in the whole but matter for praise [4]. He could excuse himself
from seeing an unwelcome visitor on the ground that he was sick, when
there was nothing the matter with him [5]. These were small matters, but
what shall we say to the incident which I have given in the sketch of his
Life, p. 79,-- his deliberately breaking the oath which he had sworn,
simply on the ground that it had been forced from him?
1 Ana. VII. xxiii. I should be glad if I could find evidence on which to deny the truth of
that occurrence. But it rests on the same authority as most other
statements about him, and it is accepted as a fact by the people and
scholars of China. It must have had, and it must still have, a very injurious
influence upon them. Foreigners charge a habit of deceitfulness upon the
nation and its government;-- on the justice or injustice of this charge I say
nothing. For every word of falsehood and every act of insincerity, the
guilty party must bear his own burden, but we cannot but regret the
example of Confucius in this particular. It is with the Chinese and their
sage, as it was with the Jews of old and their teachers. He that leads them
has caused them to err, and destroyed the way of their paths [1].
But was not insincerity a natural result of the un-religion of Confucius?
There are certain virtues which demand a true piety in order to their
flourishing in the heart of man. Natural affection, the feeling of loyalty, and
enlightened policy, may do much to build up and preserve a family and a
state, but it requires more to maintain the love of truth, and make a lie,
spoken or acted, to be shrunk from with shame. It requires in fact the
living recognition of a God of truth, and all the sanctions of revealed
religion. Unfortunately the Chinese have not had these, and the example of
him to whom they bow down as the best and wisest of men, does not set
them against dissimulation.
7. I go on to a brief discussion of Confucius's views on government, or
what we may call his principles of political science. It
[Sidebar] His views on government.
could not be in his long intercourse with his disciples but that he should
enunciate many maxims bearing on character and morals generally, but he
never rested in the improvement of the individual. 'The kingdom, the
world, brought to a state of happy tranquillity [2],' was the grand object
which he delighted to think of; that it might be brought about as easily as
'one can look upon the palm of his hand,' was the dream which it pleased
him to indulge [3]. He held that there was in men an adaptation and
readiness to be governed, which only needed to be taken advantage of in
the proper way. There must be the right administrators, but given those,
and 'the growth of government would be rapid, just as vegetation is rapid
in the earth; yea, their
1 Isaiah iii. 12. government would display itself like an easily-growing rush [1].' The
same sentiment was common from the lips of Mencius. Enforcing it one
day, when conversing with one of the petty rulers of his time, he said in
his peculiar style, 'Does your Majesty understand the way of the growing
grain? During the seventh and eighth months, when drought prevails, the
plants become dry. Then the clouds collect densely in the heavens; they
send down torrents of rain, and the grain erects itself as if by a shoot.
When it does so, who can keep it back [2]?' Such, he contended, would be
the response of the mass of the people to any true 'shepherd of men.' It
may be deemed unnecessary that I should specify this point, for it is a
truth applicable to the people of all nations. Speaking generally,
government is by no device or cunning craftiness; human nature demands
it. But in no other family of mankind is the characteristic so largely
developed as in the Chinese. The love of order and quiet, and a willingness
to submit to 'the powers that be,' eminently distinguish them. Foreign
writers have often taken notice of this, and have attributed it to the
influence of Confucius's doctrines as inculcating subordination; but it
existed previous to his time. The character of the people molded his
system, more than it was molded by it.
This readiness to be governed arose, according to Confucius, from 'the
duties of universal obligation, or those between sovereign and minister,
between father and son, between husband and wife, between elder
brother and younger, and those belonging to the intercourse of friends [3].'
Men as they are born into the world, and grow up in it, find themselves
existing in those relations. They are the appointment of Heaven. And each
relation has its reciprocal obligations, the recognition of which is proper to
the Heaven-conferred nature. It only needs that the sacredness of the
relations be maintained, and the duties belonging to them faithfully
discharged, and the 'happy tranquillity' will prevail all under heaven. As to
the institutions of government, the laws and arrangements by which, as
through a thousand channels, it should go forth to carry plenty and
prosperity through the length and breadth of the country, it did not belong
to Confucius, 'the throneless king,' to set them forth minutely. And indeed
they were existing in the records of 'the ancient sovereigns.' Nothing new
was needed. It was only
1 中庸, xx. 3. requisite to pursue the old paths, and raise up the old standards. 'The
government of Wan and Wu,' he said, 'is displayed in the records,-- the
tablets of wood and bamboo. Let there be the men, and the government
will flourish; but without the men, the government decays and ceases [1].'
To the same effect was the reply which he gave to Yen Hui when asked by
him how the government of a State should be administered. It seems very
wide of the mark, until we read it in the light of the sage's veneration for
ancient ordinances, and his opinion of their sufficiency. 'Follow,' he said,
'the seasons of Hsia. Ride in the state carriages of Yin. Wear the ceremonial
cap of Chau. Let the music be the Shao with its pantomimes. Banish the
songs of Chang, and keep far from specious talkers [2].'
Confucius's idea then of a happy, well-governed State did not go beyond
the flourishing of the five relations of society which have been mentioned;
and we have not any condensed exhibition from him of their nature, or of
the duties belonging to the several parties in them. Of the two first he
spoke frequently, but all that he has said on the others would go into small
compass. Mencius has said that 'between father and son there should be
affection; between sovereign and minister righteousness; between husband
and wife attention to their separate functions; between old and young, a
proper order; and between friends, fidelity [3].' Confucius, I apprehend,
would hardly have accepted this account. It does not bring out sufficiently
the authority which he claimed for the father and the sovereign, and the
obedience which he exacted from the child and the minister. With regard
to the relation of husband and wife, he was in no respect superior to the
preceding sages who had enunciated their views of 'propriety' on the
subject. We have a somewhat detailed exposition of his opinions in the
'Narratives of the School.'-- 'Man,' said he, 'is the representative of Heaven,
and is supreme over all things. Woman yields obedience to the instructions
of man, and helps to carry out his principles [4]. On this account she can
determine nothing of herself, and is subject to the rule of the three
obediences. When young, she must obey her father and elder brother;
when married, she must obey her husband;
1 中庸, xx. 2. when her husband is dead, she must obey her son. She may not think of
marrying a second time. No instructions or orders must issue from the
harem. Woman's business is simply the preparation and supplying of drink
and food. Beyond the threshold of her apartments she should not be
known for evil or for good. She may not cross the boundaries of the State
to attend a funeral. She may take no step on her own motion, and may
come to no conclusion on her own deliberation. There are five women who
are not to be taken in marriage:-- the daughter of a rebellious house; the
daughter of a disorderly house; the daughter of a house which has
produced criminals for more than one generation; the daughter of a
leprous house; and the daughter who has lost her father and elder brother.
A wife may be divorced for seven reasons, which, however, may be
overruled by three considerations. The grounds for divorce are
disobedience to her husband's parents; not giving birth to a son; dissolute
conduct; jealousy-- (of her husband's attentions, that is, to the other
inmates of his harem); talkativeness; and thieving. The three
considerations which may overrule these grounds are-- first, if, while she
was taken from a home, she has now no home to return to; second, if she
have passed with her husband through the three years' mourning for his
parents; third, if the husband have become rich from being poor. All these
regulations were adopted by the sages in harmony with the natures of
man and woman, and to give importance to the ordinance of marriage [1].'
With these ideas of the relations of society, Confucius dwelt much on the
necessity of personal correctness of character on the part of those in
authority, in order to secure the right fulfillment of the duties implied in
them. This is one grand peculiarity of his teaching. I have adverted to it in
the review of 'The Great Learning,' but it deserves some further exhibition,
and there are three conversations with the chief Chi K'ang in which it is
very expressly set forth. 'Chi K'ang asked about government, and Confucius
replied, "To govern means to rectify. If you lead on the people with
correctness, who will dare not to be correct?"' 'Chi K'ang, distressed about
the number of thieves in the State, inquired of Confucius about how to do
away with them. Confucius said, "If you, sir, were not covetous, though you
should reward them to do it, they would not steal."' 'Chi K'ang asked about
government,
1 家語卷三, 本命解 saying, "What do you say to killing the unprincipled for the good of the
principled?" Confucius replied, "Sir, in carrying on your government, why
should you use killing at all? Let your evinced desires be for what is good,
and the people will be good. The relation between superiors and inferiors
is like that between the wind and the grass. The grass must bend, when
the wind blows across it [1]."'
Example is not so powerful as Confucius in these and many other
passages represented it, but its influence is very great. Its virtue is
recognised in the family, and it is demanded in the church of Christ. 'A
bishop'-- and I quote the term with the simple meaning of overseer--
'must be blameless.' It seems to me, however, that in the progress of
society in the West we have come to think less of the power of example in
many departments of state than we ought to do. It is thought of too little in
the army and the navy. We laugh at the 'self-denying ordinance,' and the
'new model' of 1644, but there lay beneath them the principle which
Confucius so broadly propounded,-- the importance of personal virtue in
all who are in authority. Now that Great Britain is the governing power
over the masses of India and that we are coming more and more into
contact with tens of thousands of the Chinese, this maxim of our sage is
deserving of serious consideration from all who bear rule, and especially
from those on whom devolves the conduct of affairs. His words on the
susceptibility of the people to be acted on by those above them ought not
to prove as water spilt on the ground.
But to return to Confucius.-- As he thus lays it down that the
mainspring of the well-being of society is the personal character of the
ruler, we look anxiously for what directions he has given for the
cultivation of that. But here he is very defective. 'Self-adjustment and
purification,' he said, 'with careful regulation of his dress, and the not
making a movement contrary to the rules of propriety;-- this is the way
for the ruler to cultivate his person [2].' This is laying too much stress on
what is external; but even to attain to this is beyond unassisted human
strength. Confucius, however, never recognised a disturbance of the moral
elements in the constitution of man. The people would move, according to
him, to the virtue of their ruler as the grass bends to the wind, and that
virtue
1 Ana. XII. xvii; xviii; xix. would come to the ruler at his call. Many were the lamentations which
he uttered over the degeneracy of his times; frequent were the confessions
which he made of his own shortcomings. It seems strange that it never
came distinctly before him, that there is a power of evil in the prince and
the peasant, which no efforts of their own and no instructions of sages are
effectual to subdue.
The government which Confucius taught was a despotism, but of a
modified character. He allowed no 'jus divinum,' independent of
personal virtue and a benevolent rule. He has not explicitly stated, indeed,
wherein lies the ground of the great relation of the governor and the
governed, but his views on the subject were, we may assume, in
accordance with the language of the Shu-ching:-- 'Heaven and Earth are
the parents of all things, and of all things men are the most intelligent. The
man among them most distinguished for intelligence becomes chief ruler,
and ought to prove himself the parent of the people [1].' And again,
'Heaven, protecting the inferior people, has constituted for them rulers and
teachers, who should be able to be assisting to God, extending favour and
producing tranquillity throughout all parts of the kingdom [2].' The
moment the ruler ceases to be a minister of God for good, and does not
administer a government that is beneficial to the people, he forfeits the
title by which he holds the throne, and perseverance in oppression will
surely lead to his overthrow. Mencius inculcated this principle with a
frequency and boldness which are remarkable. It was one of the things
about which Confucius did not like to talk. Still he held it. It is conspicuous
in the last chapter of 'The Great Learning.' Its tendency has been to check
the violence of oppression, and maintain the self-respect of the people, all
along the course of Chinese history.
I must bring these observations on Confucius's views of government to
a close, and I do so with two remarks. First, they are adapted to a
primitive, unsophisticated state of society. He is a good counsellor for the
father of a family, the chief of a clan, and even the head of a small
principality. But his views want the comprehension which would make
them of much service in a great dominion. Within three centuries after his
death,the government of China passed into a new phase. The founder of
the Ch'in dynasty conceived the grand idea of abolishing all its feudal
kingdoms, and centralizing their administration in himself. He effected the
revo-
l 2 See the Shu-ching, V. i. Sect. I. 2, 7. lution, and succeeding dynasties adopted his system, and gradually
molded it into the forms and proportions which are now existing. There
has been a tendency to advance, and Confucius has all along been trying to
carry the nation back. Principles have been needed, and not 'proprieties.'
The consequence is that China has increased beyond its ancient
dimensions, while there has been no corresponding development of
thought. Its body politic has the size of a giant, while it still retains the
mind of a child. Its hoary age is in danger of becoming but senility.
Second, Confucius makes no provision for the intercourse of his country
with other and independent nations. He knew indeed of none such. China
was to him 'The Middle Kingdom [1],' 'The multitude of Great States [2],'
'All under heaven [3].' Beyond it were only rude and barbarous tribes. He
does not speak of them bitterly, as many Chinese have done since his time.
In one place he contrasts their condition favourably with the prevailing
anarchy of the kingdom, saying 'The rude tribes of the east and north have
their princes, and are not like the States of our great land which are
without them [4].' Another time, disgusted with the want of appreciation
which he experienced, he was expressing his intention to go and live
among the nine wild tribes of the east. Some one said, 'They are rude. How
can you do such a thing?' His reply was, 'If a superior man dwelt among
them, what rudeness would there be [5]?' But had he been a ruler-sage, he
would not only have influenced them by his instructions, but brought them
to acknowledge and submit to his sway, as the great Yu did [6]. The only
passage of Confucius's teachings from which any rule can be gathered for
dealing with foreigners is that in the 'Doctrine of the Mean,' where
'indulgent treatment of men from a distance' is laid down as one of the
nine standard rules for the government of the country [7]. But 'the men
from a distance' are understood to be pin and lu [8] simply,--
'guests,' that is, or officers of one State seeking employment in another, or
at the royal court; and 'visitors,' or travelling merchants. Of independent
nations the ancient classics have not any knowledge, nor has Confucius. So
long as merchants from Europe and other parts of the world could have
been content to appear in China as suppliants, seeking the privilege of
trade, so
1 中國. long the government would have ranked them with the barbarous
hordes of antiquity, and given them the benefit of the maxim about
'indulgent treatment,' according to its own understanding of it. But when
their governments interfered, and claimed to treat with that of China on
terms of equality, and that their subjects should be spoken to and of as
being of the same clay with the Chinese themselves, an outrage was
committed on tradition and prejudice, which it was necessary to resent
with vehemence.
I do not charge the contemptuous arrogance of the Chinese government
and people upon Confucius; what I deplore, is that he left no principles on
record to check the development of such a spirit. His simple views of
society and government were in a measure sufficient for the people while
they dwelt apart from the rest of mankind. His practical lessons were
better than if they had been left, which but for him they probably would
have been, to fall a prey to the influences of Taoism and Buddhism, but
they could only subsist while they were left alone. Of the earth earthy,
China was sure to go to pieces when it came into collision with a
Christianly-civilized power. Its sage had left it no preservative or
restorative elements against such a case.
It is a rude awakening from its complacency of centuries which China
has now received. Its ancient landmarks are swept away. Opinions will
differ as to the justice or injustice of the grounds on which it has been
assailed, and I do not feel called to judge or to pronounce here concerning
them. In the progress of events, it could hardly be but that the collision
should come; and when it did come it could not be but that China should be
broken and scattered. Disorganization will go on to destroy it more and
more, and yet there is hope for the people, with their veneration for the
relations of society, with their devotion to learning, and with their habits
of industry and sobriety; there is hope for them, if they will look away
from all their ancient sages, and turn to Him, who sends them, along with
the dissolution of their ancient state, the knowledge of Himself, the only
living and true God, and of Jesus Christ whom He hath sent.
8. I have little more to add on the opinions of Confucius. Many of his
sayings are pithy, and display much knowledge of character; but as they
are contained in the body of the Work, I will not occupy the space here
with a selection of those which have struck myself as most worthy of
notice. The fourth Book of the Analects,
which is on the subject of zan, or perfect virtue, has several
utterances which are remarkable.
Thornton observes:-- 'It may excite surprise, and probably incredulity,
to state that the golden rule of our Saviour, 'Do unto others as you would
that they should do unto you,' which Mr. Locke designates as 'the most
unshaken rule of morality, and foundation of all social virtue,' had been
inculcated by Confucius, almost in the same words, four centuries before
[1].' I have taken notice of this fact in reviewing both 'The Great Learning'
and 'The Doctrine of the Mean.' I would be far from grudging a tribute of
admiration to Confucius for it. The maxim occurs also twice in the Analects.
In Book XV. xxiii, Tsze-kung asks if there be one word which may serve as
a rule of practice for all one's life, and is answered, 'Is not reciprocity such
a word? What you do not want done to yourself do not do to others.' The
same disciple appears in Book V. xi, telling Confucius that he was practising
the lesson. He says, 'What I do not wish men to do to me, I also wish not to
do to men;' but the master tells him, 'Tsze, you have not attained to that.' It
would appear from this reply, that he was aware of the difficulty of
obeying the precept ; and it is not found, in its condensed expression at
least, in the older classics. The merit of it is Confucius's own.
When a comparison, however, is drawn between it and the rule laid
down by Christ, it is proper to call attention to the positive form of the
latter, 'All things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye
even so to them.' The lesson of the gospel commands men to do what they
feel to be right and good. It requires them to commence a course of such
conduct, without regard to the conduct of others to themselves. The lesson
of Confucius only forbids men to do what they feel to be wrong and
hurtful. So far as the point of priority is concerned, moreover, Christ adds,
'This is the law and the prophets.' The maxim was to be found
substantially in the earlier revelations of God. Still it must be allowed that
Confucius was well aware of the importance of taking the initiative in
discharging all the relations of society. See his words as quoted from 'The
Doctrine of the Mean' on pages 48, 49 above. But the worth of the two
maxims depends on the intention of the enunciators in regard to their
application. Confucius, it seems to me, did not think of the reciprocity
coming into action beyond the circle of his five relations of society.
Possibly, he might have
1 History of China, vol. i. p. 209. required its observance in dealings even with the rude tribes, which
were the only specimens of mankind besides his own countrymen of which
he knew anything, for on one occasion, when asked about perfect virtue,
he replied, 'It is, in retirement, to be sedately grave; in the management of
business, to be reverently attentive; in intercourse with others, to be
strictly sincere. Though a man go among the rude uncultivated tribes,
these qualities may not be neglected [1].' Still Confucius delivered his rule
to his countrymen only, and only for their guidance in their relations of
which I have had so much occasion to speak. The rule of Christ is for man
as man, having to do with other men, all with himself on the same
platform, as the children and subjects of the one God and Father in heaven.
How far short Confucius came of the standard of Christian benevolence,
may be seen from his remarks when asked what was to be thought of the
principle that injury should be recompensed with kindness. He replied,
'With what then will you recompense kindness? Recompense injury with
justice, and recompense kindness with kindness [2].' The same deliverance
is given in one of the Books of the Li Chi, where he adds that 'he who
recompenses injury with kindness is a man who is careful of his person
[3].' Chang Hsuan, the commentator of the second century, says that such a
course would be 'incorrect in point of propriety [4].' This 'propriety' was a
great stumbling-block in the way of Confucius. His morality was the result
of the balancings of his intellect, fettered by the decisions of men of old,
and not the gushings of a loving heart, responsive to the promptings of
Heaven, and in sympathy with erring and feeble humanity.
This subject leads me on to the last of the opinions of Confucius which I
shall make the subject of remark in this place. A commentator observes,
with reference to the inquiry about recompensing injury with kindness,
that the questioner was asking only about trivial matters, which might be
dealt with in the way he mentioned, while great offences, such as those
against a sovereign or a father, could not be dealt with by such an
inversion of the principles of justice [5]. In the second Book of the Li Chi
there is the following passage:-- 'With the slayer of his father, a man may
not live under the same heaven; against the slayer of his brother, a man
must never have to go home to fetch a weapon; with the slayer of
1 Ana. XIII. xix. his friend, a man may not live in the same State [1].' The lex
talionis is here laid down in its fullest extent. The Chau Li tells us of a
provision made against the evil consequences of the principle, by the
appointment of a minister called 'The Reconciler [2].' The provision is very
inferior to the cities of refuge which were set apart by Moses for the
manslayer to flee to from the fury of the avenger. Such as it was, however,
it existed, and it is remarkable that Confucius, when consulted on the
subject, took no notice of it, but affirmed the duty of blood-revenge in the
strongest and most unrestricted terms. His disciple Tsze-hsia asked him,
'What course is to be pursued in the case of the murder of a father or
mother?' He replied, 'The son must sleep upon a matting of grass, with his
shield for his pillow; he must decline to take office; he must not live under
the same heaven with the slayer. When he meets him in the marketplace
or the court, he must have his weapon ready to strike him.' 'And what is
the course on the murder of a brother?' 'The surviving brother must not
take office in the same State with the slayer; yet if he go on his prince's
service to the State where the slayer is, though he meet him, he must not
fight with him.' 'And what is the course on the murder of an uncle or a
cousin?' 'In this case the nephew or cousin is not the principal. If the
principal on whom the revenge devolves can take it, he has only to stand
behind with his weapon in his hand, and support him [3].'
Sir John Davis has rightly called attention to this as one of the
objectionable principles of Confucius [4]. The bad effects of it are evident
even in the present day. Revenge is sweet to the Chinese. I have spoken of
their readiness to submit to government, and wish to live in peace, yet
they do not like to resign even to government the 'inquisition for blood.'
Where the ruling authority is feeble, as it is at present, individuals and
clans take the law into their own hands, and whole districts are kept in a
state of constant feud and warfare.
But I must now leave the sage. I hope I have not done him injustice; the
more I have studied his character and opinions, the more highly have I
come to regard him. He was a very great man, and his influence has been
on the whole a great benefit to the Chinese, while his teachings suggest
important lessons to ourselves who profess to belong to the school of
Christ.
1 禮記, I. Sect. I. Pt. v. 10. SECTION III. Sze-ma Ch'ien makes Confucius say: 'The disciples who received my
instructions, and could themselves comprehend them, were seventy-seven
individuals. They were all scholars of extraordinary ability [1].' The
common saying is, that the disciples of the sage were three thousand, while
among them there were seventy-two worthies. I propose to give here a list
of all those whose names have come down to us, as being his followers. Of
the greater number it will be seen that we know nothing more than their
names and surnames. My principal authorities will be the 'Historical
Records,' the 'Narratives of the School,' 'The Sacrificial Canon for the Sage's
Temple, with Plates,' and the chapter on 'The Disciples of Confucius'
prefixed to the 'Four Books, Text and Commentary, with Proofs and
Illustrations.' In giving a few notices of the better-known individuals, I
will endeavour to avoid what may be gathered from the Analects.
1. Yen Hui, by designation Tsze-yuan (顏回, 字子淵). He was a native of
Lu, the favourite of his master, whose junior he was by thirty years, and
whose disciple he became when he was quite a youth. 'After I got Hui,'
Confucius remarked, 'the disciples came closer to me.' We are told that
once, when he found himself on the Nang hill with Hui, Tsze-lu, and Tsze-
kung, Confucius asked them to tell him their different aims, and he would
choose between them. Tsze-lu began, and when he had done, the master
said, 'It marks your bravery.' Tsze-kung followed, on whose words the
judgment was, 'They show your discriminating eloquence.' At last came
Yen Yuan, who said, 'I should like to find an intelligent king and sage ruler
whom I might assist. I would diffuse among the people instructions on the
five great points, and lead them on by the rules of propriety and music, so
that they should not care to fortify their cities by walls and moats, but
would fuse their swords and spears into implements of agriculture. They
should send forth their flocks without fear into the plains and forests.
There should be no sunderings of families, no widows or widowers. For a
thousand
1 孔子曰, 受業身通者, 七十有七人, 皆異能之士也. years there would be no calamity of war. Yu would have no opportunity
to display his bravery, or Ts'ze to display his oratory.' The master
pronounced, 'How admirable is this virtue!'
When Hui was twenty-nine, his hair was all white, and in three years
more he died. He was sacrificed to, along with Confucius, by the first
emperor of the Han dynasty. The title which he now has in the sacrificial
Canon,-- 'Continuator of the Sage,' was conferred in the ninth year of the
emperor, or, to speak more correctly, of the period, Chia-ching, A. D. 1530.
Almost all the present sacrificial titles of the worthies in the temple were
fixed at that time. Hui's place is the first of the four Assessors, on the east
of the sage [1].
2. Min Sun, styled Tsze-ch'ien (閔損，字子騫). He was a native of Lu,
fifteen years younger than Confucius, according to Sze-ma Ch'ien, but fifty
years younger, according to the 'Narratives of the School,' which latter
authority is followed in 'The Annals of the Empire.' When he first came to
Confucius, we are told, he had a starved look [2], which was by-and-by
exchanged for one of fulness and satisfaction [3]. Tsze-kung asked him how
the change had come about. He replied, 'I came from the midst of my reeds
and sedges into the school of the master. He trained my mind to filial piety,
and set before me the examples of the ancient kings. I felt a pleasure in his
instructions; but when I went abroad, and saw the people in authority,
with their umbrellas and banners, and all the pomp and circumstance of
their trains, I also felt pleasure in that show. These two things assaulted
each other in
1 I have referred briefly, at p. 91, to the temples of Confucius. The
principal hall, called 大成殿, or 'Hall of the Great and Complete One,' is that
in which is his own statue or the tablet of his spirit, having on each side of
it, within a screen, the statues, or tablets, of his 'four Assessors.' On the
east and west, along the walls of the same apartment, are the two 序, the
places of the 十二哲, or 'twelve Wise Ones,' those of his disciples, who, next
to the 'Assessors,' are counted worthy of honour. Outside this apartment,
and running in a line with the two 序, but along the external wall of the
sacred inclosure, are the two 廡, or side-galleries, which I have sometimes
called the ranges of the outer court. In each there are sixty-four tablets of
the disciples and other worthies, having the same title as the Wise Ones,
that of 先賢, or 'Ancient Worthy,' or the inferior title of 先儒, 'Ancient
Scholar.' Behind the principal hall is the 崇聖祠殿, sacred to Confucius's
ancestors, whose tablets are in the centre, fronting the south, like that of
Confucius. On each side are likewise the tablets of certain 'ancient
Worthies,' and 'ancient Scholars.' my breast. I could not determine which to prefer, and so I wore that
look of distress. But now the lessons of our master have penetrated deeply
into my mind. My progress also has been helped by the example of you my
fellow-disciples. I now know what I should follow and what I should avoid,
and all the pomp of power is no more to me than the dust of the ground. It
is on this account that I have that look of fulness and satisfaction.' Tsze-
ch'ien was high in Confucius's esteem. He was distinguished for his purity
and filial affection. His place in the temple is the first, east, among 'The
Wise Ones,' immediately after the four assessors. He was first sacrificed to
along with Confucius, as is to be understood of the other 'Wise Ones,'
excepting in the case of Yu Zo, in the eighth year of the style K'ai-yuan of
the sixth emperor of the T'ang dynasty, A.D. 720. His title, the same as that
of all but the Assessors, is-- 'The ancient Worthy, the philosopher Min.'
3 . Zan Kang, styled Po-niu (冉耕, 字白 [al. 百] 牛). He was a native of
Lu, and Confucius's junior only by seven years. When Confucius became
minister of Crime, he appointed Po-niu to the office, which he had himself
formerly held, of commandant of Chung-tu. His tablet is now fourth among
'The Wise Ones,' on the west.
4. Zan Yung, styled Chung-kung (冉雍, 字仲弓). He was of the same clan as
Zan Kang, and twenty-nine years younger than Confucius. He had a bad
father, but the master declared that was not to be counted to him, to
detract from his admitted excellence. His place is among 'The Wise Ones,'
the second, east.
5. Zan Ch'iu, styled Tsze-yu (冉求, 字子有). He was related to the two
former, and of the same age as Chung-kung. He was noted among the
disciples for his versatile ability and many acquirements. Tsze-kung said
of him, 'Respectful to the old, and kind to the young; attentive to guests
and visitors; fond of learning and skilled in many arts; diligent in his
examination of things:-- these are what belong to Zan Ch'iu." It has been
noted in the life of Confucius that it was by the influence of Tsze-yu that
he was finally restored to Lu. He occupies the third place, west, among 'The
Wise Ones.'
6. Chung Yu, styled Tsze-lu and Chi-lu (仲由, 字子路, 又字季路). He was a
native of P'ien (卞) in Lu and only
nine years younger than Confucius. At their first interview, the master
asked him what he was fond of, and he replied, 'My long sword.' Confucius
said, 'If to your present ability there were added the results of learning,
you would be a very superior man.' 'Of what advantage would learning be
to me?' asked Tsze-lu. 'There is a bamboo on the southern hill, which is
straight itself without being bent. If you cut it down and use it, you can
send it through a rhinoceros's hide;-- what is the use of learning?' 'Yes,'
said the master; 'but if you feather it and point it with steel, will it not
penetrate more deeply?' Tsze-lu bowed ' twice, and said, 'I will reverently
receive your instructions.' Confucius was wont to say, 'From the time that I
got Yu, bad words no more came to my ears.' For some time Tsze-lu was
chief magistrate of the district of P'u (蒲), where his administration
commanded the warm commendations of the master. He died finally in
Wei, as has been related above, pp. 86, 87. His tablet is now the fourth,
east, from those of the Assessors.
7. Tsai Yu styled Tsze-wo (宰予, 字子我). He was a native of Lu, but
nothing is mentioned of his age. He had 'a sharp mouth,' according to Sze-
ma Ch'ien. Once, when he was at the court of Ch'u on some commission, the
king Chao offered him an easy carriage adorned with ivory for his master.
Yu replied, 'My master is a man who would rejoice in a government where
right principles were carried out, and can find his joy in himself when that
is not the case. Now right principles and virtue are as it were in a state of
slumber. His wish is to rouse and put them in motion. Could he find a
prince really anxious to rule according to them, he would walk on foot to
his court and be glad to do so. Why need he receive such a valuable gift, as
this from so great a distance?' Confucius commended this reply; but where
he is mentioned in the Analects, Tsze-wo does not appear to great
advantage. He took service in the State of Ch'i, and was chief magistrate of
Lin-tsze, where he joined with T'ien Ch'ang in some disorderly movement
[1], which led to the destruction of his kindred, and made Confucius
ashamed of him. His tablet is now the second, west, among 'The Wise Ones.'
8. Twan-mu Ts'ze, styled Tsze-kung (端木賜, 字子貢 [al. 子贛]), whose
place is now third, east, from the Assessors. He
1 與田常作亂. See Sze-ma Ch'ien's Biographies, chap. 7, though come have
doubted the genuineness of this part of the notice of Tsze-wo. was a native of Wei (衛), and thirty-one years younger than Confucius.
He had great quickness of natural ability, and appears in the Analects as
one of the most forward talkers among the disciples. Confucius used to say,
'From the time that I got Ts'ze, scholars from a distance came daily
resorting to me.' Several instances of the language which he used to
express his admiration of the master have been given in the last section.
Here is another:-- The duke Ching of Ch'i asked Tsze-kung how Chung-ni
was to be ranked as a sage. 'I do not know,' was the reply. 'I have all my
life had the heaven over my head, but I do not know its height, and the
earth under my feet, but I do not know its thickness. In my serving of
Confucius, I am like a thirsty man who goes with his pitcher to the river,
and there he drinks his fill, without knowing the river's depth.' He took
leave of Confucius to become commandant of Hsin-yang (信陽宰), when the
master said to him, 'In dealing with your subordinates, there is nothing
like impartiality; and when wealth comes in your way, there is nothing like
moderation. Hold fast these two things, and do not swerve from them. To
conceal men's excellence is to obscure the worthy; and to proclaim people's
wickedness is the part of a mean man. To speak evil of those whom you
have not sought the opportunity to instruct is not the way of friendship
and harmony.' Subsequently Tsze-kung was high in office both in Lu and
Wei, and finally died in Ch'i. We saw how he was in attendance on
Confucius at the time of the sage's death. Many of the disciples built huts
near the master's grave, and mourned for him three years, but Tsze-kung
remained sorrowing alone for three years more.
9. Yen Yen, styled Tsze-yu (言偃, 字子游), now the fourth in the western
range of 'The Wise Ones.' He was a native of Wu (吳), forty-five years
younger than Confucius, and distinguished for his literary acquirements.
Being made commandant of Wu-ch'ang, he transformed the character of
the people by 'proprieties' and music, and was praised by the master.
After the death of Confucius, Chi K'ang asked Yen how that event had made
no sensation like that which was made by the death of Tsze-ch'an, when
the men laid aside their bowstring rings and girdle ornaments, and the
women laid aside their pearls and ear-rings, and the voice of weeping was
heard in the lanes for three months. Yen replied, 'The influences of Tsze-
ch'an and my master might be compared
to those of overflowing water and the fattening rain. Wherever the
water in its overflow reaches, men take knowledge of it, while the
fattening rain falls unobserved.'
10. Pu Shang, styled Tsze-hsia (卜商, 字子夏). It is not certain to what
State he belonged, his birth being assigned to Wei (衛), to Wei (魏), and to
Wan (溫). He was forty-five years younger than Confucius, and lived to a
great age, for we find him, B.C. 406, at the court of the prince Wan of Wei (
魏), to whom he gave copies of some of the classical Books. He is
represented as a scholar extensively read and exact, but without great
comprehension of mind. What is called Mao's Shih-ching (毛詩) is said to
contain the views of Tsze-hsia. Kung-yang Kao and Ku-liang Ch'ih are also
said to have studied the Ch'un Ch'iu with him. On the occasion of the death
of his son he wept himself blind. His place is the fifth, east, among 'The
Wise Ones.'
11. Chwan-sun Shih, styled Tsze-chang (顓孫師, 字子張), has his tablet,
corresponding to that of the preceding, on the west. He was a native of
Ch'an (陳), and forty-eight years younger than Confucius. Tsze-kung said,
'Not to boast of his admirable merit; not to signify joy on account of noble
station; neither insolent nor indolent; showing no pride to the dependent:--
these are the characteristics of Chwan-sun Shih.' When he was sick, he
called (his son) Shan-hsiang to him, and said, 'We speak of his end in
the case of a superior man, and of his death in the case of a mean
man. May I think that it is going to be the former with me to-day?'
12. Tsang Shan [or Ts'an] styled Tsze-yu (曾參, 字子輿 [al. 子與]). He
was a native of south Wu-ch'ang, and forty-six years younger than
Confucius. In his sixteenth year he was sent by his father into Ch'u, where
Confucius then was, to learn under the sage. Excepting perhaps Yen Hui,
there is not a name of greater note in the Confucian school. Tsze-kung said
of him, 'There is no subject which he has not studied. His appearance is
respectful. His virtue is solid. His words command credence. Before great
men he draws himself up in the pride of self-respect. His eyebrows are
those of longevity.' He was noted for his filial piety, and after the death of
his parents, he could not read the rites of mourning without being led to
think of them, and moved to tears. He was a voluminous writer. Ten Books
of his composition are said to be contained in the 'Rites of the elder Tai'
(大戴禮). The Classic of Filial Piety he is said to have made under the eye
of Confucius. On his connexion with 'The Great Learning,' see above, Ch. III.
Sect. II. He was first associated with the sacrifices to Confucius in A.D. 668,
but in 1267 he was advanced to be one of the sage's four Assessors. His
title-- 'Exhibitor of the Fundamental Principles of the Sage,' dates from the
period of Chia-ching, as mentioned in speaking of Yen Hui.
13. Tan-t'ai Mieh-ming, styled Tsze-yu (澹臺滅明, 字子羽). He was a
native of Wu-ch'ang, thirty-nine years younger than Confucius, according
to the 'Historical Records,' but forty-nine, according to the 'Narratives of
the School.' He was excessively ugly, and Confucius thought meanly of his
talents in consequence, on his first application to him. After completing his
studies, he travelled to the south as far as the Yang-tsze. Traces of his
presence in that part of the country are still pointed out in the department
of Su-chau. He was followed by about three hundred disciples, to whom he
laid down rules for their guidance in their intercourse with the princes.
When Confucius heard of his success, he confessed how he had been led by
his bad looks to misjudge him. He, with nearly all the disciples whose
names follow, first had a place assigned to him in the sacrifices to
Confucius in A.D. 739. The place of his tablet is the second, east, in the
outer court, beyond that of the 'Assessors' and 'Wise Ones.'
14. Corresponding to the preceding, on the west, is the tablet of Fu
Pu-ch'i styled Tsze-tsien (宓 [al. 密 and 虙, all = 伏] 不齊, 字子賤). He
was a native of Lu, and, according to different accounts, thirty, forty, and
forty-nine years younger than Confucius. He was commandant of Tan-fu (
單父宰), and hardly needed to put forth any personal effort. Wu-ma Ch'i
had been in the same office, and had succeeded by dint of the greatest
industry and toil. He asked Pu-ch'i how he managed so easily for himself,
and was answered, 'I employ men; you employ men's strength.' People
pronounced Fu to be a superior man. He was also a writer, and his works
are mentioned in Liu Hsin's Catalogue.
15. Next to that of Mieh-ming is the tablet of Yuan Hsien, styled Tsze-
sze (原憲, 字子思) a native of Sung or according to Chang Hsuan, of Lu, and
younger than Confucius by thirty-six years. He was noted for his purity
and modesty, and for his
happiness in the principles of the master amid deep poverty. After the
death of Confucius, he lived in obscurity in Wei. In the notes to Ana. VI. iii,
I have referred to an interview which he had with Tsze-kung.
16. Kung-ye Ch'ang [al. Chih], styled Tsze-ch'ang [al. Tsze-
chih], (公冶長 [al. 芝], 字子長 [al. 子芝]), has his tablet next to that
of Pu-ch'i. He was son-in-law to Confucius. His nativity is assigned both to
Lu and to Ch'i.
17. Nan-kung Kwo, styled Tsze-yung (南宮括 [al. 适 and, in the
'Narratives of the School,' 縚 (T'ao)], 字子容), has the place at the east next to
Yuan Hsien. It is a question much debated whether he was the same with
Nan-kung Chang-shu, who accompanied Confucius to the court of Chau, or
not. On occasion of a fire breaking out in the palace of duke Ai, while
others were intent on securing the contents of the Treasury, Nan-kung
directed his efforts to save the Library, and to him was owing the
preservation of the copy of the Chau Li which was in Lu, and other ancient
monuments.
18. Kung-hsi Ai, styled Chi-ts'ze [al. Chi-ch'an] (公皙哀, 字季次
[al. 季沉]). His tablet follows that of Kung-ye. He was a native of Lu, or
of Ch'i. Confucius commended him for refusing to take office with any of
the Families which were encroaching on the authority of the princes of the
States, and for choosing to endure the severest poverty rather than
sacrifice a tittle of his principles.
19. Tsang Tien, styled Hsi (曾蒧[al. 點], 字皙). .He was the father of
Tsang Shan. His place in the temples is the hall to Confucius's ancestors,
where his tablet is the first, west.
20. Yen Wu-yao, styled Lu (顏無繇, 字路). He was the father of Yen Hui,
younger than Confucius by six years. His sacrificial place is the first, east,
in the same hall as the last.
21. Following the tablet of Nan-kung Kwo is that of Shang Chu, styled
Tsze-mu (商瞿, 字子木). To him, it is said, we are indebted for the
preservation of the Yi-ching, which he received from Confucius. Its
transmission step by step, from Chu down to the Han dynasty, is minutely
set forth.
22. Next to Kung-hsi Ai is the place of Kao Ch'ai, styled Tsze-kao and
Chi-kao (高柴, 字子羔 [al. 季羔; for 羔 moreover, we find 皋, and 睾]), a
native of Ch'i, according to the 'Narratives
of the School,' but of Wei, according to Sze-ma Ch'ien and Chang Hsuan.
He was thirty (some say forty) years younger than Confucius, dwarfish and
ugly, but of great worth and ability. At one time he was criminal judge of
Wei, and in the execution of his office condemned a prisoner to lose his
feet. Afterwards that same man saved his life, when he was flying from
the State. Confucius praised Ch'ai for being able to administer stern justice
with such a spirit of benevolence as to disarm resentment.
23. Shang Chu is followed by Ch'i-tiao K'ai [prop. Ch'i], styled Tsze-k'ai,
Tsze-zo, and Tsze-hsiu (漆雕開 [pr. 啟], 字子開, 子若, and 子修脩), a native of
Ts'ai (蔡), or according to Chang Hsuan, of Lu. We only know him as a
reader of the Shu-ching, and refusing to go into office.
24. Kung-po Liao, styled Tsze-chau (公伯僚, 字子周). He appears in the
Analects, XIV. xxxiii, slandering Tsze-lu. It is doubtful whether he should
have a place among the disciples.
25. Sze-ma Kang, styled Tsze-niu (司馬耕, 字子牛), follows Ch'i-tiao K'ai;
also styled 黍耕. He was a great talker, a native of Sung, and a brother of
Hwan T'ui, to escape from whom seems to have been the labour of his life.
26. The place next Kao Ch'ai is occupied by Fan Hsu, styled Tsze-ch'ih (樊
須, 字子遲), a native of Ch'i, or, according to others, of Lu, and whose age is
given as thirty-six and forty-six years younger than Confucius. When
young, he distinguished himself in a military command under the Chi
family.
27. Yu Zo, styled Tsze-zo (有若, 字子若). He was a native of Lu, and his age
is stated very variously. He was noted among the disciples for his great
memory and fondness for antiquity. After the death of Confucius, the rest
of the disciples, because of some likeness in Zo's speech to the Master,
wished to render the same observances to him which they had done to
Confucius, but on Tsang Shan's demurring to the thing, they abandoned the
purpose. The tablet of Tsze-zo is now the sixth, east among 'The Wise Ones,'
to which place it was promoted in the third year of Ch'ien-lung of the
present dynasty. This was done in compliance with a memorial from the
president of one of the Boards, who said he was moved by a dream to
make the request. We may suppose that his real motives were a wish to do
Justice to the merits of Tsze-zo, and to restore the symmetry of the tablets
in the 'Hall of the
Great and Complete One,' which had been disturbed by the introduction
of the tablet of Chu Hsi in the preceding reign.
28. Kung-hsi Ch'ih, styled Tsze-hwa (公西赤, 字子華), a native of Lu,
younger than Confucius by forty-two years, whose place is the fourth,
west, in the outer court. He was noted for his knowledge of ceremonies,
and the other disciples devolved on him all the arrangements about the
funeral of the Master.
29. Wu-ma Shih [or Ch'i], styled Tsze-Ch'i (巫馬施 [al. 期], 字子期
[al. 子旗]), a native of Ch'an, or, according to Chang Hsuan, of Lu, thirty
years younger than Confucius. His tablet is on the east, next to that of
Sze-ma Kang. It is related that on one occasion, when Confucius was about
to set out with a company of the disciples on a walk or journey, he told
them to take umbrellas. They met with a heavy shower, and Wu-ma asked
him, saying, 'There were no clouds in the morning; but after the sun had
risen, you told us to take umbrellas. How did you know that it would rain?'
Confucius said, 'The moon last evening was in the constellation Pi, and is it
not said in the Shih-ching, "When the moon is in Pi, there will be heavy
rain?" It was thus I knew it.'
30. Liang Chan [al. Li], styled Shu-yu (梁鱣 [al. 鯉] 字叔魚), occupies
the eighth place, west, among the tablets of the outer court. He was a man
of Ch'i, and his age is stated as twenty-nine and thirty-nine years younger
than Confucius. The following story is told in connexion with him.-- When
he was thirty, being disappointed that he had no son, he was minded to
put away his wife. 'Do not do so,' said Shang Chu to him. 'I was thirty-eight
before I had a son, and my mother was then about to take another wife for
me, when the Master proposed sending me to Ch'i. My mother was
unwilling that I should go, but Confucius said, 'Don't be anxious. Chu will
have five sons after he is forty.' It has turned out so, and I apprehend it is
your fault, and not your wife's, that you have no son yet.' Chan took this
advice, and in the second year after, he had a son.
31. Yen Hsing [al. Hsin, Liu, and Wei], styled Tsze-liu (顏幸 [al.
辛, 柳, and 韋], 字子柳), occupies the place, east, after Wu-ma Shih. He was a
native of Lu, and forty-six years younger than Confucius.
32. Liang Chan is followed on the west by Zan Zu, styled Tsze-lu
[al. Tsze-tsang and Tsze-yu] (冉孺 [al. 儒] 字*子魯 [al. 子曾
* Digitizer's note: This is 宇 in the source text; I have corrected what is
an obvious misprint. and 子魚]), a native of Lu, and fifty years younger than Confucius.
33. Yen Hsing is followed on the east by Ts'ao Hsu, styled Tsze-hsun (曹
卹, 字子循), a native of Ts'ai, fifty years younger than Confucius.
34. Next on the west is Po Ch'ien, styled Tsze-hsi, or, in the current
copies of the 'Narratives of the School,' Tsze-ch'iai (伯虔, 字子皙 [al. 子
析] or 子楷), a native of Lu, fifty years younger than Confucius.
35. Following Tsze-hsun is Kung-sun Lung [al. Ch'ung] styled Tsze-
shih (公孫龍 [al. 寵], 字子石), whose birth is assigned by different
writers to Wei, Ch'u, and Chao (趙). He was fifty-three years younger than
Confucius. We have the following account:-- 'Tsze-kung asked Tsze-shih,
saying, "Have you not learned the Book of' Poetry?" Tsze-shih replied,
"What leisure have I to do so? My parents require me to be filial; my
brothers require me to be submissive; and my friends require me to be
sincere. What leisure have I for anything else?" "Come to my Master," said
Tsze-kung, "and learn of him."'
Sze-ma Ch'ien here observes: 'Of the thirty-five disciples which precede,
we have some details. Their age and other particulars are found in the
Books and Records. It is not so, however, in regard to the fifty-two which
follow.'
36. Zan Chi, styled Tsze-ch'an [al. Chi-ch'an and Tsze-ta] (冉季, 字子
產 [al. 季產 and 子達), a native of Lu, whose place is the 11th, west,
next to Po Ch'ien.
37. Kung-tsu Kau-tsze or simply Tsze, styled Tsze-chih (公祖勾茲 [or
simply 茲], 字子之), a native of Lu. His tablet is the 23rd, east, in the outer
court.
38. Ch'in Tsu, styled Tsze-nan (秦祖, 字子南), a native of Ch'in. His tablet
precedes that of the last, two places.
39. Ch'i-tiao Ch'ih, styled Tsze-lien (漆雕哆 [al. 侈], 字子斂), a native
of Lu. His tablet is the 13th, west.
40. Yen Kao, styled Tsze-chiao (顏高字子驕). According to the 'Narratives
of the School,' he was the same as Yen K'o (刻, or 剋), who drove the
carriage when Confucius rode in Wei after the duke and Nan-tsze. But this
seems doubtful. Other
authorities make his name Ch'an (產), and style him Tsze-tsing (子精).
His tablet is the 13th, east.
41. Ch'i-tiao Tu-fu [al. . Ts'ung], styled Tsze-yu, Tsze-ch'i, and
Tsze-wan (漆雕徒父 [al. 從], 字子有 or 子友 [al. 子期 and 子文]), a
native of Lu, whose tablet precedes that of Ch'i-tiao Ch'ih.
42. Zang Sze-ch'ih, styled Tsze-t'u, or Tsze-ts'ung (壤 [al. 穰] 駟赤, 字
子徒 [al. 子從]), a native of Ch'in. Some consider Zang-sze (壤駟) to be a
double surname. His tablet comes after that of No. 40.
43. Shang Chai, styled Tsze-Ch'i and Tsze-hsiu (商澤, 字子季 [al. 子秀
]), a native of Lu. His tablet is immediately after that of Fan Hsu, No. 26.
44. Shih Tso [al. Chih and Tsze]-shu, styled Tsze-ming (石作
[al. 之 and 子], 蜀, 字子明). Some take Shih-tso (石作) as a double
surname. His tablet follows that of No. 42.
45. Zan Pu-ch'i, styled Hsuan (任不齊, 字選), a native of Ch'u, whose tablet
is next to that of No. 28.
46. Kung-liang Zu, styled Tsze-chang (公良孺 [al. 儒], 字子正), a
native of Ch'in, follows the preceding in the temples. The 'Sacrificial Canon'
says:-- 'Tsze-chang was a man of worth and bravery. When Confucius was
surrounded and stopped in P'u, Tsze-chang fought so desperately, that the
people of P'u were afraid, and let the Master go, on his swearing that he
would not proceed to Wei.'
47. Hau [al. Shih] Ch'u [al. Ch'ien], styled Tsze-li [al.
Li-ch'ih] (后 [al. 石] 處 [al. 虔], 字子里 [al. 里之]), a native of
Ch'i, having his tablet the 17th, east.
48. Ch'in Zan, styled K'ai (秦冉, 字開), a native of Ts'ai. He is not given in
the list of the 'Narratives of the School,' and on this account his tablet was
put out of the temples in the ninth year of Chia-tsing. It was restored,
however, in the second year of Yung-chang, A.D. 1724, and is the 33rd,
east, in the outer court.
49. Kung-hsia Shau, styled Shang [and Tsze-shang] (公夏首 [al. 守],
字乘 [and 子乘]), a native of Lu, whose tablet is next to that of No. 44.
50. Hsi Yung-tien [or simply Tien], styled Tsze-hsi [al. Tsze-
chieh and Tsze-ch'ieh] (系容蒧 [or 點], 字子皙 [al. 子偕 and 子楷]), a
native of Wei, having his tablet the 18th, east.
51. Kung Chien-ting [al. Kung Yu], styled Tsze-chung (公肩 [al.
堅] 定 [al. 公有], 字子仲 [al. 中 and 忠]). His nativity is assigned to
Lu, to Wei, and to Tsin (晉). He follows No. 46.
52. Yen Tsu [al. Hsiang], styled Hsiang and Tsze-hsiang (顏祖
[al. 相], 字襄, and 子襄), a native of Lu, with his tablet following that of
No. 50.
53. Chiao Tan [al. Wu], styled Tsze-kea (鄡單 [al. 鄔＊], 字子家),
a native of Lu. His place is next to that of No. 51.
54. Chu [al. Kau] Tsing-ch'iang [and simply Tsing], styled Tsze-
ch'iang [al. Tsze-chieh and Tsze-mang] (句 [al. 勾 and 鉤] 井疆
[and simply 井], 字子疆 [al. 子界 and 子孟]), a native of Wei, following
No. 52.
55. Han [al. Tsai]-fu Hei, styled Tsze-hei [al. Tsze-so and
Tsze-su] (罕 [al. 宰] 父黑, 字子黑 [al. 子索 and 子素]), a native of Lu,
whose tablet is next to that of No. 53.
56. Ch'in Shang, styled Tsze-p'ei [al. P'ei-tsze and Pu-tsze] (秦商, 字
子丕 [al. 丕茲 and 不茲]), a native of Lu, or, according to Chang Hsuan,
of Ch'u. He was forty years younger than Confucius. One authority,
however, says he was only four years younger, and that his father and
Confucius's father were both celebrated for their strength. His tablet is the
12th, east.
57. Shin Tang, styled Chau (申黨字周). In the 'Narratives of the School'
there is a Shin Chi, styled Tsze-chau (申續, 字子周). The name is given by
others as T'ang (堂 and 儻) and Tsu (續), with the designation Tsze-tsu (子續
). These are probably the same person mentioned in the Analects as Shin
Ch'ang (申棖). Prior to the Ming dynasty they were sacrificed to as two, but
in A.D. 1530, the name Tang was expunged from the sacrificial list, and
only that of Ch'ang left. His tablet is the 31st, east.
58. Yen Chih-p'o, styled Tsze-shu [or simply Shu] (顏之僕, 字子叔 [or
simply 叔]), a native of Lu, who occupies the 29th place, east.
59. Yung Ch'i, styled Tsze-ch'i [al. Tsze-yen] (榮旂 [or 祈], 字子旗 or
子祺 [al. 子顏]), a native of Lu, whose tablet is the 20th, west. * Digitizer's note: The actual variant used by Legge is (鄔左即右). 60. Hsien Ch'ang, styled Tsze-ch'i [al. Tsze-hung] (縣成, 字子棋
[al. 子橫]), a native of Lu. His place is the 22nd, east.
61. Tso Zan-ying [or simply Ying], styled Hsing and Tsze-hsing (左人郢 [or
simply 郢], 字行 and 子行), a native of Lu. His tablet follows that of No. 59.
62. Yen Chi, styled An [al. Tsze-sze] (燕伋 [or 級], 字恩 [al. 子思) a
native of Ch'in. His tablet is the 24th east.
63: Chang Kwo, styled Tsze-t'u (鄭國, 字子徒), a native of Lu. This is
understood to be the same with the Hsieh Pang, styled Tsze-ts'ung (薛邦, 字
子從), of the 'Narratives of the School.' His tablet follows No. 61.
64. Ch'in Fei, styled Tsze-chih (秦非, 字子之), a native of Lu, having his
tablet the 31st, west.
65. Shih Chih-ch'ang, styled Tsze-hang [al. ch'ang] (施之常, 字子恆
[al. 常]), a native of Lu. His tablet is the 30th, east.
66. Yen K'wai, styled Tsze-shang (顏噲, 字子聲), a native of Lu. His tablet
is the next to that of No. 64.
67. Pu Shu-shang, styled Tsze-ch'e (步叔乘 [in the 'Narratives of the
School' we have an old form of 乘], 字子車), a native of Ch'i. Sometimes for
Pu (步) we find Shao (少). His tablet is the 30th, west.
68. Yuan K'ang, styled Tsze-chi (原亢, 字子籍), a native of Lu. Sze-ma
Ch'ien calls him Yuan K'ang-chi, not mentioning any designation. The
'Narratives of the School' makes him Yuan K'ang (抗), styled Chi. His tablet
is the 23rd, west.
69. Yo K'o [al. Hsin], styled Tsze-shang (樂欬, [al. 欣], 字子聲), a
native of Lu. His tablet is the 25th, east.
70. Lien Chieh, styled Yung and Tsze-yung [al. Tsze-ts'ao] (廉潔, 字
庸 and 子庸 [al. 子曹), a native of Wei, or of Ch'i. His tablet is next to
that of No. 68.
71. Shu-chung Hui [al. K'wai], styled Tsze-ch'i (叔仲會 [al. 噲],
字子期), a native of Lu, or, according to Chang Hsuan, of Tsin. He was
younger than Confucius by fifty-four years. It is said that he and another
youth, called K'ung Hsuan (孔琁), attended by turns with their pencils, and
acted as amanuenses to the sage, and when Mang Wu-po expressed a
doubt of their competency, Confucius declared his satisfaction with them.
He follows Lien Chieh in the temples.
72. Yen Ho, styled Zan (顏何, 字冉), a native of Lu. The present copies of
the 'Narratives of the School' do not contain his name, and in A.D. 1588 Zan
was displaced from his place in the temples. His tablet, however, has been
restored during the present dynasty. It is the 33rd, west.
73. Ti Hei, styled Che [al. Tsze-che and Che-chih] (狄黑, 字晢
[al. 子晢 and 晢之]), a native of Wei, or of Lu. His tablet is the 26th,
east.
74. Kwei [al. Pang] Sun, styled Tsze-lien [al. Tsze-yin] (□
(kui1 刲左邦右) [al. 邦] 巽, 字子歛 [al. 子飲]), a native of Lu. His
tablet is the 27th, west.
75. K'ung Chung, styled Tsze-mieh (孔忠, 字子蔑). This was the son, it is
said, of Confucius's elder brother, the cripple Mang-p'i. His tablet is next to
that of No. 73. His sacrificial title is 'The ancient Worthy, the philosopher
Mieh.'
76. Kung-hsi Yu-zu [al. Yu], styled Tsze-shang (公西輿如 [al. 輿
], 字子上), a native of Lu. His place is the 26th, west.
77. Kung-hsi Tien, styled Tsze-shang (公西蒧 [or 點], 字子上 [al. 子尚
]), a native of Lu. His tablet is the 28th, east.
78. Ch'in Chang [al. Lao], styled Tsze-k'ai (琴張 [al. 牢], 字子開), a
native of Wei. His tablet is the 29th, west.
79. Ch'an K'ang, styled Tsze-k'ang [al. Tsze-ch'in] (陳亢, 字子亢
[al. 子禽]), a native of Ch'an. See notes on Ana. I. x.
80. Hsien Tan [al. Tan-fu and Fang], styled Tsze-hsiang (縣亶
[al. 亶父 and 豐], 字子象), a native of Lu. Some suppose that this is the
same as No. 53. The advisers of the present dynasty in such matters,
however, have considered them to be different, and in 1724, a tablet was
assigned to Hsien Tan, the 34th, west.
The three preceding names are given in the 'Narratives of the School.'
The research of scholars has added about twenty others.
81. Lin Fang, styled Tsze-ch'iu (林放, 字子邱), a native of Lu. The only
thing known of him is from the Ana. III. iv. His tablet was displaced under
the Ming, but has been restored by the present dynasty. It is the first,
west.
82. Chu Yuan, styled Po-yu (蘧瑗, 字伯玉), an officer of Wei, and, as
appears from the Analects and Mencius, an intimate
friend of Confucius. Still his tablet has shared the same changes as that
of Lin Fang. It is now the first, east.
83 and 84. Shan Ch'ang (申棖) and Shan T'ang (申堂). See No. 57.
85. Mu P'i (牧皮), mentioned by Mencius, VII. Pt. II. xxxvii. 4. His
entrance into the temple has been under the present dynasty. His tablet is
the 34th, east.
86. Tso Ch'iu-ming or Tso-ch'iu Ming (左丘明) has the 32nd place, east.
His title was fixed in A.D. 1530 to be 'The Ancient Scholar,' but in 1642 it
was raised to that of 'Ancient Worthy.' To him we owe the most
distinguished of the annotated editions of the Ch'un Ch'iu. But whether he
really was a disciple of Confucius, and in personal communication with
him, is much debated.
The above are the only names and surnames of those of the disciples
who now share in the sacrifices to the sage. Those who wish to exhaust the
subject, mention in addition, on the authority of Tso Ch'iu-ming, Chung-sun
Ho-chi (仲孫何忌), a son of Mang Hsi (see p. 63), and Chung-sun Shwo (仲孫
說), also a son of Mang Hsi, supposed by many to be the same with No. 17;
Zu Pei, (孺悲), mentioned in the Analects, XVII. xx, and in the Li Chi, XVIII.
Sect. II. ii. 22; Kung-wang Chih-ch'iu (公罔之裘) and Hsu Tien (序點),
mentioned in the Li Chi, XLIII. 7; Pin-mau Chia (賓牟賈), mentioned in the
Li Chi, XVII. iii. 16; K'ung Hsuan (孔琁) and Hai Shu-lan (惠叔蘭), on the
authority of the 'Narratives of the School;' Ch'ang Chi (常季), mentioned by
Chwang-tsze; Chu Yu (鞫語), mentioned by Yen-tsze (晏子); Lien Yu (廉瑀)
and Lu Chun (魯峻), on the authority of 文翁石室; and finally Tsze-fu Ho (子
服何), the Tsze-fu Ching-po (子服景伯) of the Analects, XIV. xxxviii.
CHAPTER VI. 十三經註疏, 'The Thirteen Ching, with Commentary and Explanations.'
This is the great repertory of ancient lore upon the Classics. On the
Analects, it contains the 'Collection of Explanations of the Lun Yu,' by Ho
Yen and others (see p. 19), and 'The Correct Meaning,' or Paraphrase of
Hsing Ping (see p. 20). On the Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean,
it contains the comments and glosses of Chang Hsuan, and of K'ung Ying-ta
(孔穎達) of the T'ang dynasty.
新刻批點四書讀本, 'A new edition of the Four Books, Punctuated and
Annotated, for Reading.' This work was published in the seventh year of
Tao-kwang (1827) by a Kao Lin (高琳). It is the finest edition of the Four
Books which I have seen, in point of typographical execution. It is indeed a
volume for reading. It contains the ordinary 'Collected Comments' of Chu
Hsi on the Analects, and his 'Chapters and Sentences' of the Great Learning
and Doctrine of the Mean. The editor's own notes are at the top and bottom
of the page, in rubric.
四書朱子本義匯參, 'The Proper Meaning of the Four Books as determined
by Chu Hsi, Compared with, and Illustrated from, other Commentators.'
This is a most voluminous work, published in the tenth year of Ch'ien-lung,
A.D. 1745, by Wang Pu-ch'ing (王步青), a member of the Han-lin College. On
the Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean, the 'Queries' (或問)
addressed to Chu Hsi and his replies are given in the same text as the
standard commentary.
四書經註集證, 'The Four Books, Text and Commentary, with Proofs and
Illustrations.' The copy of this Work which I have was edited by a Wang
T'ing-chi (汪廷機), in the third
year of Chia-ch'ing, A.D. 1798. It may be called a commentary on the
commentary. The research in all matters of Geography, History, Biography,
Natural History, &c., is immense.
四書諸儒輯要, 'A Collection of the most important Comments of Scholars
on the Four Books.' By Li P'ei-lin (李沛霖); published in the fifty-seventh
K'ang-hsi year, A.D. 1718. This Work is about as voluminous as the 匯參,
but on a different plan. Every chapter is preceded by a critical discussion
of its general meaning, and the logical connexion of its several paragraphs.
This is followed by the text, and Chu Hsi's standard commentary. We have
then a paraphrase, full and generally perspicuous. Next, there is a selection
of approved comments, from a great variety of authors; and finally, the
reader finds a number of critical remarks and ingenious views, differing
often from the common interpretation, which are submitted for his
examination.
四書翼註論文, 'A Supplemental Commentary, and Literary Discussions, on
the Four Books.' By Chang Chan-t'ao [al. T'i-an] (張甄陶 [al. 惕菴]),
a member of the Han-lin college, in the early part, apparently, of the reign
of Ch'ien-lung. The work is on a peculiar plan. The reader is supposed to be
acquainted with Chu Hsi's commentary, which is not given; but the author
generally supports his views, and defends them against the criticisms of
some of the early scholars of this dynasty. His own exercitations are of the
nature of essays more than of commentary. It is a book for the student
who is somewhat advanced, rather than for the learner. I have often
perused it with interest and advantage.
四書遵註合講, 'The Four Books, according to the Commentary, with
Paraphrase.' Published in the eighth year of Yung Chang, A.D. 1730, by
Wang Fu [al. K'eh-fu] (翁復 [al. 克夫]). Every page is divided into
two parts. Below, we have the text and Chu Hsi's commentary. Above, we
have an analysis of every chapter, followed by a paraphrase of the several
paragraphs. To the paraphrase of each paragraph are subjoined critical
notes, digested from a great variety of scholars, but without the mention of
their names. A list of 116 is given who are thus laid under contribution. In
addition, there are maps and illustrative figures at the commencement;
and to each Book there are prefixed biographical notices, explanations of
peculiar allusions, &c.
新增四書補註附考備旨, 'The Four Books, with a
Complete Digest of Supplements to the Commentary, and additional
Suggestions. A new edition, with Additions.' By Tu Ting-chi (杜定基).
Published A.D. 1779. The original of this Work was by Tang Lin (鄧林), a
scholar of the Ming dynasty. It is perhaps the best of all editions of the
Four Books for a learner. Each page is divided into three parts. Below, is
the text divided into sentences and members of sentences, which are
followed by short glosses. The text is followed by the usual commentary,
and that by a paraphrase, to which are subjoined the Supplements and
Suggestions. The middle division contains a critical analysis of the chapters
and paragraphs; and above, there are the necessary biographical and other
notes.
四書味根錄, 'The Four Books, with the Relish of the Radical Meaning.' This
is a new Work, published in 1852. It is the production of Chin Ch'ang,
styled Chi'u-t'an (金澂, 字秋潭), an officer and scholar, who, returning,
apparently to Canton province, from the North in 1836, occupied his
retirement with reviewing his literary studies of former years, and
employed his sons to transcribe his notes. The writer is fully up in all the
commentaries on the Classics, and pays particular attention to the labours
of the scholars of the present dynasty. To the Analects, for instance, there
is prefixed Chiang Yung's History of Confucius, with criticisms on it by the
author himself. Each chapter is preceded by a critical analysis. Then
follows the text with the standard commentary, carefully divided into
sentences, often with glosses, original and selected, between them. To the
commentary there succeeds a paraphrase, which is not copied by the
author from those of his predecessors. After the paraphrase we have
Explanations (解). The book is beautifully printed, and in small type, so that
it is really a multum in parvo, with considerable freshness.
日講四書義解, 'A Paraphrase for Daily Lessons, Explaining the Meaning of
the Four Books.' This work was produced in 1677, by a department of the
members of the Han-lin college, in obedience to an imperial rescript. The
paraphrase is full, perspicuous, and elegant.
御製周易折中; 書經傳說彙纂; 詩經傳說彙纂; 禮記義疏; 春秋傳說彙纂. These
works form together a superb edition of the Five Ching, published by
imperial authority
in the K'ang-hsi and Yung-chang reigns. They contain the standard
views (傳); various opinions (說); critical decisions of the editors (晏) ;
prolegomena; plates or cuts; and other apparatus for the student.
毛西河先生全集, 'The Collected Writings of Mao Hsi-ho.' See prolegomena,
p. 20. The voluminousness of his Writings is understated there. Of 經集, or
Writings on the Classics, there are 236 sections, while his 文集, or other
literary compositions, amount to 257 sections. His treatises on the Great
Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean have been especially helpful to me.
He is a great opponent of Chu Hsi, and would be a much more effective one,
if he possessed the same graces of style as that 'prince of literature.'
四書拓餘說, 'A Collection of Supplemental Observations on the Four
Books.' The preface of the author, Ts'ao Chih-shang (曹之升), is dated in
1795, the last year of the reign of Ch'ien-lung. The work contains what we
may call prolegomena on each of the Four Books, and then excursus on the
most difficult and disputed passages. The tone is moderate, and the
learning displayed extensive and solid. The views of Chu Hsi are frequently
well defended from the assaults of Mao Hsi-ho. I have found the Work
very instructive.
鄉黨圖考, 'On the Tenth Book of the Analects, with Plates.' This Work was
published by the author, Chiang Yung (江永), in the twenty-first Ch'ien-lung
year, A.D. 1761, when he was seventy-six years old. It is devoted to the
illustration of the above portion of the Analects, and is divided into ten
sections, the first of which consists of woodcuts and tables. The second
contains the Life of Confucius, of which I have largely availed myself in the
preceding chapter. The whole is a remarkable specimen of the minute care
with which Chinese scholars have illustrated the Classical Books
四書釋地; 四書釋地續; 四書釋地又續; 四書釋地三續. We may call these
volumes-- 'The Topography of the Four Books; with three Supplements.'
The Author's name is Yen Zo-ch'u (閻若璩). The first volume was published
in 1698, and the second in 1700. I have not been able to find the dates of
publication of the other two, in which there is more biographical and
general matter than topographical. The author apologizes for the
inappropriateness of their titles by saying that he could not
help calling them Supplements to the Topography, which was his 'first
love.'
皇清經解, 'Explanations of the Classics, under the Imperial Ts'ing
Dynasty.' See above, p. 20. The Work, however, was not published, as I
have there supposed, by imperial authority, but under the
superintendence, and at the expense (aided by other officers), of Yuan
Yuan (阮元), Governor-general of Kwang-tung and Kwang-hsi, in the ninth
year of the last reign, 1829. The publication of so extensive a Work shows
a public spirit and zeal for literature among the high officers of China,
which should keep foreigners from thinking meanly of them.
孔子家語, 'Sayings of the Confucian Family.' Family is to be taken in the
sense of Sect or School. In Liu Hsin's Catalogue, in the subdivision devoted
to the Lun Yu, we find the entry:-- 'Sayings of the Confucian Family,
twenty-seven Books,' with a note by Yen Sze-ku of the T'ang dynasty,--
'Not the existing Work called the Family Sayings.' The original Work was
among the treasures found in the wall of Confucius's old house, and was
deciphered and edited by K'ung An-kwo. The present Work is by Wang Su
of the Wei (魏) dynasty, grounded professedly on the older one, the blocks
of which had suffered great dilapidation during the intervening centuries.
It is allowed also, that, since Su's time, the Work has suffered more than
any of the acknowledged Classics. Yet it is a very valuable fragment of
antiquity, and it would be worth while to incorporate it with the Analects.
My copy is the edition of Li Yung (李容), published in 1780. I have
generally called the Work 'Narratives of the School.'
聖廟祀典圖考, 'Sacrificial Canon of the Sage's Temples, with Plates.' This
Work, published in 1826, by Ku Yuan, styled Hsiang-chau (顧沅, 字湘舟), is a
very painstaking account of all the Names sacrificed to in the temples of
Confucius, the dates of their attaining to that honour, &c. There are
appended to it Memoirs of Confucius and Mencius, which are not of so
much value.
十子全書, 'The Complete Works of the Ten Tsze.' See Morrison's
Dictionary, under the character 子. I have only had occasion, in connexion
with this Work, to refer to the writings of Chwang-tsze (莊子) and Lieh-tsze
(列子). My copy is an edition of 1804.
歷代名賢列女氏姓譜, 'A Cyclop�¦dia of Surnames, or Biographical
Dictionary, of the Famous Men and Virtuous Women of the Successive
Dynasties.' This is a very notable work of its class; published in 1793, by 蕭
智漢, and extending through 157 chapters or Books.
文獻通考, 'General Examination of Records and Scholars.' This astonishing
Work, which cost its author, Ma Twan-lin (馬端臨), twenty years' labour,
was first published in 1321. R�©musat says,-- 'This excellent Work is a
library in itself, and if Chinese literature possessed no other, the language
would be worth learning for the sake of reading this alone.' It does indeed
display all but incredible research into every subject connected with the
Government, History, Literature, Religion, &c., of the empire of China. The
author's researches are digested in 348 Books. I have had occasion to
consult principally those on the Literary Monuments, embraced in
seventy-six Books, from the 174th to the 249th.
朱彝尊經義考, 'An Examination of the Commentaries on the Classics,' by
Chu I-tsun. The author was a member of the Han-lin college, and the work
was first published with an imperial preface by the Ch'ien-lung emperor.
It is an exhaustive work on the literature of the Classics, in 300 chapters or
Books.'
續文獻通考, 'A Continuation of the General Examination of Records and
Scholars.' This Work, which is in 254 Books, and nearly as extensive as the
former, was the production of Wang Ch'i (王圻), who dates his preface in
1586, the fourteenth year of Wan-li, the style of the reign of the
fourteenth emperor of the Ming dynasty. Wang Ch'i brings down the Work
of his predecessor to his own times. He also frequently goes over the same
ground, and puts things in a clearer light. I have found this to be the case
in the chapters on the classical and other Books.
二十四史, 'The Twenty-four Histories.' These are the imperially-
authorized records of the empire, commencing with the 'Historical Records,'
the work of Sze-ma Ch'ien, and ending with the History of the Ming
dynasty, which appeared in 1742, the result of the joint labours of 145
officers and scholars of the present dynasty. The extent of the collection
may be understood from this, that my copy, bound in English fashion,
makes sixty-three volumes, each one larger than this. No nation has a
history so thoroughly digested; and on the whole it is trustworthy. In pre-
paring this volume, my necessities have been confined mostly to the
Works of Sze-ma Ch'ien, and his successor, Pan Ku (班固), the Historian of
the first Han dynasty.
歷代統記表, 'The Annals of the Nation.' Published by imperial authority in
1803, the eighth year of Ch'ia-ch'ing. This Work is invaluable to a student,
being, indeed, a collection of chronological tables, where every year, from
the rise of the Chau dynasty, B.C. 1121, has a distinct column to itself, in
which, in different compartments, the most important events are noted.
Beyond that date, it ascends to nearly the commencement of the cycles in
the sixty-first year of Hwang-ti, giving -- not every year, but the years of
which anything has been mentioned in history. From Hwang-ti also, it
ascends through the dateless ages up to P'an-ku, the first of mortal
sovereigns.
歷代疆域表, 'The Boundaries of the Nation in the successive Dynasties.'
This Work by the same author, and published in 1817, does for the
boundaries of the empire the same service which the preceding renders to
its chronology.
歷代沿革表, 'The Topography of the Nation in the successive Dynasties.'
Another Work by the same author, and of the same date as the preceding.
The Dictionaries chiefly consulted have been:--
The well-known Shwo Wan (說文解字), by Hsu Shan, styled Shu-chung (
許慎, 字叔重), published in A.D. 100; with the supplement (繫傳) by Hsu
Ch'ieh (徐鍇), of the southern Tang dynasty. The characters are arranged in
the Shwo Wan under 540 keys or radicals, as they are unfortunately
termed.
The Liu Shu Ku (六書故), by Tai T'ung, styled Chung-ta (戴侗, 字仲達), of
our thirteenth century. The characters are arranged in it, somewhat after
the fashion of the R Ya (p. 2), under six general divisions, which again
are subdivided, according to the affinity of subjects, into various
categories.
The Tsze Hui (字彙), which appeared in the Wan-li (萬歷) reign of the
Ming dynasty (1573-1619). The 540 radicals of the Shwo Wan were
reduced in this to 214, at which number they have since continued.
The K'ang-hsi Tsze Tien (康熙字典), or Kang-hsi Dictionary, prepared by
order of the great K'ang-hsi emperor in 1716. This
is the most common and complete of all Chinese dictionaries for
common use.
The I Wan Pi Lan (蓺文備覽), 'A Complete Exhibition of all the Authorized
Characters,' published in 1787; 'furnishing,' says Dr. Williams, 'good
definitions of all the common characters, whose ancient forms are
explained.'
The Pei Wan Yun Fu (佩文韻府), generally known among foreigners as
'The Kang-hsi Thesaurus.' It was undertaken by an imperial order, and
published in 1711, being probably, as Wylie says, 'the most extensive work
of a lexicographical character ever produced.' It does for the phraseology
of Chinese literature all, and more than all, that the Kang-hsi dictionary
does for the individual characters. The arrangement of the characters is
according to their tones and final sounds. My copy of it, with a supplement
published about ten years later, is in forty-five large volumes, with much
more letter-press in it than the edition of the Dynastic Histories mentioned
on p. 133.
The Ching Tsi Tswan Ku, ping Pu Wei (經籍□(纂上饗下)詁并補遺), 'A Digest
of the Meanings in the Classical and other Books, with Supplement,' by, or
rather under the superintendence of, Yuan Yuan (p. 132). This has often
been found useful. It is arranged according to the tones and rhymes like
the characters in the Thesaurus.
SECTION II. CONFUCIUS SINARUM PHILOSOPHUS; sive Scientia Sinensis Latine
Exposita. Studio et opera Prosperi Intorcetta, Christiani Herdritch, Francisci
Rougemont, Philippi Couplet, Patrum Societatis JESU. Jussu Ludovici Magni.
Parisiis, 1837. Y-KING; Antiquissimus Sinarum Liber, quem ex Latina Interpretatione
P. Regis, aliorumque ex Soc. JESU PP. edidit Julius Mohl. Stuttgarti�¦ et
Tubing�¦, 1839.
if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if
it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . .
login: anonymous
password: your@login
cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg
cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext01, etc.
dir [to see files]
get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99]
GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books]
[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification,
or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.
by James Legge
THE GREAT LEARNING
THE DOCTRINE OF THE MEAN
OF THE CHINESE CLASSICS GENERALLY.
SECTION I.
BOOKS INCLUDED UNDER THE NAME OF THE CHINESE CLASSICS.
2 四書.
3 易經.
4 書經.
5 詩經.
6 禮記.
7 春秋.
2 論語.
3 大學.
4 曾參.
5 中庸.
6 孔伋.
7 樂記.
8 周禮.
9 儀禮.
10 春秋三傳
11 左丘明.
12 公羊高.
13 穀梁赤.
14 爾雅.
15 孝經.
2 前漢書, 本志, 第十卷, 藝文志.
3 仲尼.
4 篇籍, slips and tablets of bamboo, which supplied in those days the place
of paper.
5 世界孝武皇帝.
2 謁者陳農.
3 光祿大夫劉向.
4 步兵校慰任宏.
5 太史令尹咸.
6 侍醫李桂國.
7 侍中奉車都慰歆.
8 輯略.
9 六藝略.
10 凡易, 十三家, 二百九十四篇. How much of the whole work was contained in
each 篇, it is impossible to determine. P. Regis says: 'Pien, quemadmodum
Gallice dicimus "des pieces d'�©loquence, de po�©sie."'
11 詩, 六家, 四百一十六卷. The collections of the Shih-ching are mentioned
under the name of chuan, 'sections,' 'portions.' Had p'ien been
used, it might have been understood of individual odes. This change of
terms shows that by p'ien in the other summaries, we are not to
understand single blocks or chapters.
2 儒家者流.
3 孝惠皇帝.
4 武帝建元五年, 初置五經博士.
5 顯宗孝明皇帝.
6 肅宗孝章皇帝.
7 孝和皇帝.
2 I have thought it well to endeavour to translate the whole of the
passages. Father de Mailla merely constructs from them a narrative of his
own; see L'Histoire G�©n�©rale de La China, tome ii. pp. 399-402. The 通鑑網目
avoids the difficulties of the original by giving an abridgment of it.
2 僕射, 周青臣.
3 淳于越.
4 田常. -- 常 should probably be 恆, as it is given in the T'ung Chien. See
Analects XIV. xxii. T'ien Hang was the same as Ch'an Ch'ang of that
chapter.
5 丞相李斯
2 自除犯禁者, 四百六餘人, 皆阬之咸陽. The meaning of this passage as a whole
is sufficiently plain, but I am unable to make out the force of the phrase 自
除.
3 See the remarks of Chamg Chia-tsi (夾際鄭氏), of the Sung dynasty, on the
subject, in the 文獻通考, Bk. clxxiv. p. 5.
2 儒家者流.
2 墨家者流.
3 See Mencius, V. Pt. II. ii. 2.
OF THE CONFUCIAN ANALECTS.
FORMATION OF THE TEXT OF THE ANALECTS BY THE SCHOLARS OF THE HAN
DYNASTY.
2 前將軍, 蕭望之.
3 丞相, 韋賢, 及子, 玄成.
4 王卿.
5 庸生.
6 中尉王吉.
7 魯王共 (or 恭).
2 孔安國.
3 論語訓解. See the preface to the Lun Yu in 'The Thirteen Ching.' It has
been my principal authority in this section.
4 安昌侯, 張禹.
AT WHAT TIME, AND BY WHOM, THE ANALECTS WERE WRITTEN; THEIR PLAN;
AND AUTHENTICITY.
2 文獻通考, Bk. clxxxiv. p. 3.
3 鄭玄, 字康成.
4 孝獻皇帝.
2 悼公.
3 晉魏斯受經於卜子夏; see the 厤代統紀表, Bk. i. p. 77.
2 論語想是門弟子, 如語錄一般, 記在那裡, 後來有一高手, 鍊成文理這樣少, 下字無一不
渾.
2 荀卿.
3 莊子, 列子.
4 墨子.
OF COMMENTARIES UPON THE ANALECTS.
2 In Mo's chapter against the Literati, he mentions some of the
characteristics of Confucius in the very words of the Tenth Book of the
Analects.
3 家語.
2 光武.
3 周氏.
4 至順帝時, 南郡太守, 馬融, 亦為之訓說.
5 司農, 陳群; 太常, 王肅; 博士, 周生列.
6 光祿大夫, 關內侯, 孫邕; 光祿大夫, 鄭沖; 散騎常侍, 中領軍, 安鄉亭侯, 曹羲; 侍中, 荀
顗; 尚書, 駙馬都尉, 關內侯, 何晏.
7 論語集解. I possess a copy of this work, printed about the middle of our
fourteenth century.
2 邢昺.
3 論語正義.
4 論語集義.
5 論語集註.
6 論語或問.
7 毛奇齡.
8 西河.
9 西河全集.
10 皇清經解.
OF VARIOUS READINGS.
2 翟教授, 四書考異.
OF THE GREAT LEARNING.
SECTION I.
HISTORY OF THE TEXT, AND THE DIFFERENT ARRANGEMENTS OF IT WHICH HAVE
BEEN PROPOSED.
2 戴聖 Shang was a second cousin of Teh.
2 明道.
3 新.
4 親.
5 大學證.
6 程子頤,字正叔,明道之弟.
7 伊川.
2 王文成.
3 王魯齊.
4 李彭山.
5 高景逸.
6 葛屺瞻
7 聖經古本,南海羅仲藩註辨.
OF THE AUTHORSHIP, AND DISTINCTION OF THE TEXT INTO CLASSICAL TEXT AND
COMMENTARY.
ITS SCOPE AND VALUE.
2 太學, not 大學. See the note on the title of the Work below.
3 天子, Cl. (classical) Text, par. 6, 2.
4 一人, Comm. ix. 3.
2 Cl. Text, pars. 4. 5.
2 See Comm. x. 1.
2 Comm. vii. 1.
3 Comm. Ch. vi.
2 Comm. vi. 2.
3 Suppl. to Comm. Ch. v.
THE DOCTRINE OF THE MEAN.
SECTION I.
ITS PLACE IN THE LI CHI, AND ITS PUBLICATION SEPARATELY.
2 隋書,卷三十二,志第二十七,經籍,一, p. 12.
3 禮記中庸專,二卷,宋散騎常侍戴顒撰;中庸講疏,一卷,梁武帝撰;私記制旨中庸;五卷.
4 周濂溪.
ITS AUTHOR; AND SOME ACCOUNT OF HIM.
2 子思作中庸; see the 史記,四十七,孔子世家.
3 This K'ung Fu (孔鮒) was that descendant of Confucius, who hid several
books in the wall of his house, on the issuing of the imperial edict for their
burning. He was a writer himself, and his Works are referred to under the
title of 孔叢子. I have not seen them, but the statement given above is
found in the 四書拓餘說;-- art. 中庸. -- 孔叢子云,子思撰中庸之書,四十九篇.
2. 聖廟祀典圖考.
3. 或以六十二似八十二之誤. Eighty-two and sixty-two may more easily be
confounded, as written in Chinese, than with the Roman figures.
4 See the 四書集證, on the preface to the Chung Yung, -- 年百餘歲卒.
5 Li himself was born in Confucius's twenty-first year, and if Tsze-sze had
been born in Li's twenty-first year, he must have been 103 at the time of
duke Mu's accession. But the tradition is, that Tsze-sze was a pupil of Tsang
Shan who was born B.C. 504. We must place his birth therefore
considerably later, and suppose him to have been quite young when his
father died. I was talking once about the question with a Chinese friend,
who observed:-- 'Li was fifty when he died, and his wife married again
into a family of Wei. We can hardly think, therefore, that she was anything
like that age. Li could not have married so soon as his father did. Perhaps
he was about forty when Chi was born.'
2 Li Chi, II. Sect. I. ii. 7.
3 See the 四書集證, as above.
2 See the Li Chi, II. Sect. II. iii. 15. 庶氏之母死 must be understood as I have
done above, and not with Chang Hsuan, -- 'Your mother was born a Miss
Shu.'
3 子上 -- this was the designation of Tsze-sze's son.
4 白,-- this was Tsze-shang's name.
5 See the Li Chi, II. Sect. I. i. 4.
2 The author of the 四書拓餘說 adopts the view that the Work was
composed in Sung. Some have advocated this from ch. xxviii. 5, compared
with Ana. III. ix, 'it being proper,' they say, 'that Tsze-sze, writing in Sung,
should not depreciate it as Confucius had done out of it!'
3 See in the 'Sacrificial Canon,' on Tsze-sze.
4 This is the Work referred to in note 1, p. 40.
ITS INTEGRITY.
2 See the 四書拓餘說, art. 中庸.
3 顏師古曰,今禮記有中庸一篇,奕非本禮經,蓋此之流.
4 王氏緯曰,中庸古有二篇,見漢藝文志,而在禮記中者,一篇而已,朱子為章句,因其一篇者,
分為三十三章,而古所謂而篇者不可見矣.
ITS SCOPE AND VALUE.
2 See the Introductory note of Chu Hsi.
2 中節.
2 Ch. ix.
3 Ch. iv.
4 Ch. vi.
5 Ch. viii.
6 Ch. x.
7 Ch. xi.
8 Encyclop�¦dia Britannica, Preliminary Dissertations, p. 318, eighth
edition.
The pattern is not far off."
2 Par. 12.
3 Par. 15.
2 Par. 18.
3 Pars. 18, 19.
4 Ana. VII. xix.
2 Ch. xxii.
3 Ch. xxiii.
2 See the Introductory note below.
CONFUCIUS AND HIS IMMEDIATE DISCIPLES.
SECTION I.
LIFE OF CONFUCIUS.
2 啟.
3 愍公.
2 魴(al. 方) 祀.
3 I drop here the 父 (second tone), which seems to have been used in those
times in a manner equivalent to our Mr.
4 厲公.
5 正考甫; 甫 is used in the same way as 父; see note 3.
6 戴, 武, 宣, 三公.
7 See the 魯語, and 商頌詩序; quoted in Chiang Yung's (工永) Life of
Confucius, which forms a part of the 鄉黨圖考.
8 孔父嘉.
9 華督.
10 殤公.
11 防.
2 伯夏.
3 叔梁紇.
4 偪陽.
5 孟皮, 一字伯尼.
6 顏氏.
7 徵在.
8 其人, 身長十尺. See, on the length of the ancient foot, Ana. VIII. vi, but the
point needs a more sifting investigation than it has yet received.
2 Sze-ma Ch'ien says that Confucius was born in the twenty-second year of
duke Hsiang, B.C. 550. He is followed by Chu Hsi in the short sketch of
Confucius's life prefixed to the Lun Yu, and by 'The Annals of the Empire'
(歷代統紀表), published with imperial sanction in the reign of Chia-ch'ing.
(To this latter work I have generally referred for my dates.) The year
assigned in the text above rests on the authority of Ku-liang and Kung-
yang, the two commentators on the Ch'un-Ch'iu. With regard to the month,
however, the tenth is that assigned by Ku-liang, while Kung-yang names
the eleventh.
3 Tsau is written 郰, 鄹, 陬, and 鄒.
2 Ana. II. iv.
3 Ana. IX. vi.
4 娶宋之幵官氏.
5 名曰鯉, 而字伯魚.
6 為委吏. This is Mencius's account. Sze-ma Ch'ien says 嘗為季氏吏, but his
subsequent words 料量平 show that the office was the same.
7 Mencius calls this office 乘田, while Sze-ma Ch'ien says 為司職吏.
2 Ana. VII. vii.
3 Ana. VII. viii.
2 Li Chi, II. Sect. I. i. 23.
3 See the Ch'un Ch'iu, under the seventh year of duke Chao,-- 秋, 郯子來朝
.
2 師襄. See the 'Narratives of the School,' 卷三, art 辯樂解; but the account
there given is not more credible than the chief of T'an's expositions.
3 Ana. II. iv.
4 The journey to Chau is placed by Sze-ma Ch'ien before Confucius's
holding of his first official employments, and Chu Hsi and most other
writers follow him. It is a great error, and arisen from a misunderstanding
of the passage from the 左氏傳 upon the subject.
2 何忌.
3 孟懿子.
4 南宮敬叔.
5 The 家語 makes Chang-shu accompany Confucius to Chau. It is difficult to
understand this, if Chang-shu were really a son of Mang Hsi who had died
that year.
6 洛.
7 敬王 (B.C. 519-475)
2 逸態與淫志.
3 See the 史記, 列傳第三, and compare the remarks attributed to Lao-tsze in
the account of the K'ung family near the beginning.
4 Quoted by Chiang Yung from the 'Narratives of the School.'
2 景公.
3 Ana. XVI. xii.
4 晏嬰. This is the same who was afterwards styled 晏平仲.
5 陳.
2 See the 說苑, 卷十九, p. 13.
3 Ana. VII. xiii.
4 Some of these are related in the 'Narratives of the School;'-- about the
burning of the ancestral shrine of the sovereign 釐, and a one-footed bird
which appeared hopping and flapping its wings in Ch'i. They are plainly
fabulous, though quoted in proof of Confucius's sage wisdom. This
reference to them is more than enough.
5 家語, 卷二, 六本.
6 Ana. XII. xi.
7 Ana. XIII. iii.
2 Ana. XVIII. iii
3 Sze-ma Ch'ien makes the first observation to have been addressed
directly to Confucius.
4 According to the above account Confucius was only once, and for a
portion of two years, in Ch'i. For the refutation of contrary accounts, see
Chiang Yung's Life of the Sage.
5 定公.
6 陽虎.
7 陽貨.
2 閔損.
2 See the Li Chi, II. Pt. I. i. 27.
3 Ana. XI. ix.
4 中都宰. Amiot says this was 'la ville meme ou le Souverain tenoit sa Cour'
(Vie de Confucius, p. 147). He is followed of course by Thornton and
Pauthier. My reading has not shown me that such was the case. In the
notes to K'ang-hsi's edition of the 'Five Ching,' Li Chi, II Sect. I. iii. 4, it is
simply said-- 'Chung-tu,-- the name of a town of Lu. It afterwards
belonged to Ch'i when it was called Ping-lu (平陸).'
2 家語, Bk. I.
3 司空. This office, however, was held by the chief of the Mang Family. We
must understand that Confucius was only an assistant to him, or perhaps
acted for him.
4 大司寇.
5 家語, Bk. I.
2 家語, Bk. I.
3 實其.
4 夾谷.
5 泰安府, 萊蕪縣.
2 The 家語 says Bk. II, 孔子為魯司寇, 攝相事. But he was a 相 only in the sense
of an assistant of ceremonies, as at the meeting in Chia-ku, described
above.
3 See the 家語, Bk. II.
2 郈.
3 成.
4 In connexion with these events, the 'Narratives of the School' and Sze-ma
Ch'ien mention the summary punishment inflicted by Confucius on an able
but unscrupulous and insidious officer the Shaou chang, Maou (少正卯). His
judgment and death occupy a conspicuous place in the legendary accounts.
But the Analects, Tsze-sze, Mencius, and Tso Ch'iu-ming are all silent about
it, and Chiang Yung rightly rejects it as one of the many narratives
invented to exalt the sage.
5 See the 家語, Bk. II.
6 See 孔叢子, quoted by Chiang Yung.
But this Kwei hill cuts off my view.
With an axe, I'd hew the thickets through:--
Vain thought! 'gainst the hill I nought can do;'
Drizzling rain falls thick and fast.
Homeward goes the youthful bride,
O'er the wild, crowds by her side.
How is it, O azure Heaven,
From my home I thus am driven,
Through the land my way to trace,
With no certain dwelling-place?
Dark, dark; the minds of men!
Worth in vain comes to their ken.
Hastens on my term of years;
Old age, desolate, appears [2],'
2 See Chiang Yung's Life of Confucius, 去魯周遊考.
3 Ana. III. xxiv.
2. 靈公.
3 see the 史記, 孔子世家, p. 5.
4 陳國.
5. 匡.
6 Ana. IX. v. In Ana. XI. xxii, there is another reference to this time, in
which Yen Hui is made to appear.
7 See the Li Chi, II. Sect. I. ii. 16.
2 See the account in the 史記, 孔子世家, p. 6.
3 Ana. VI. xxvi.
4 Ana. IX. xvii.
5 曹.
6 ana. IX. xxii.
7 鄭.
2 司城貞子. See Mencius, V. Pt. I. viii. 3.
3 Chiang Yung digests in this place two foolish stories,-- about a large bone
found in the State of Yueh, and a bird which appeared in Ch'ia and died,
shot through with a remarkable arrow. Confucius knew all about them.
4 吳.
5 蒲.
6 This ia related by Sze-ma ch'ien 孔子世家, p. 7, and also in the 'Narratives
of the School.' I would fain believe it is not true. The wonder is, that no
Chinese critic should have set about disproving it.
7 Ana. XII. x.
8 晉.
2 Tso Ch'iu-ming, indeed, relates a story of Confucius, on the report of a
fire in Lu, telling whose ancestral temple had been destroyed by it.
3 Ana. V. xxi.
2 家語, 卷二, 在危, 二十篇.
3 Ana. XI. ii.
4 Ana. VII. xviii.
5 Ana. XIII. xvi.
2 Ana XVII. v.
3 襄陽府宜城縣.
4 See the 史記, 孔子世家, p. 10.
5 出公.
2 Ana. VII. xiv.
3 Ana. XI. viii. In the notes on Ana. XI. vii, I have adverted to the
chronological difficulty connected with the dates assigned respectively to
the deaths of Yen Hui and Confucius's own son, Li. Chiang Yung assigns
Hui's death to B.C. 481.
4 See the 史記, 孔子世家.
5 哀公.
6 See Chiang Yung's memoir, in loc.
2 See the 左傳, 哀公十一年.
3 Ana. II. iv. 6.
4 See the 史記, 孔子世家, p. 12.
5 Ana. IX. xiv.
6 Ana. VII. xvi.
2 兗州府嘉祥縣.
3 公羊傳, 哀公十四年. According to Kung-yang, however, the lin was
found by some wood-gatherers.
4 Mencius III. Pt. II. ix. 8.
5 Mencius III. Pt. II. ix. 11.
2 Ana. XI. xii.
3 子羔, by surname Kao (高), and name Ch'ai (柴).
4 See the 左傳, 哀公十五年.
The strong beam must break;
And the wise man wither away like a plant.'
2 See the Li Chi, II, Sect. I. ii. 20.
2 Chinese and English Dictionary, char. 孔. Sir John Davis also mentions
seeing a figure of Confucius, in a temple near the Po-yang lake, of which
the complexion was 'quite black' (The Chinese, vol. ii. p. 66).
HIS INFLUENCE AND OPINIONS.
2 See the 聖廟祀典圖考, 卷一, art. on Confucius. I am indebted to this for most
of the notices in this paragraph.
3 平帝.
2 文聖尼父.
3 順治.
4 大成至聖, 文宣尼師, 孔子
5 至聖先師孔子
6 上丁日
3 Ana. XIII. xxx.
4 Mencius III. Pt. I. iii. 10.
2 The Chinese, vol. ii. p. 45.
2 Ana. IX. iii.
3 Ana. IX. x.
2 Ana. XIX. xxiv.
3 Ana. XIX. xxv.
2 'The contents of the Yi-ching, and Confucius's labors upon it, may be
objected in opposition to this statement, and I must be understood to make
it with come reservation. Six years ago, I spent all my leisure time for
twelve months in the study of that Work, and wrote out a translation of it,
but at the close I was only groping my way in darkness to lay hold of
[footnote continued next page].
1 Ana. VII. xvii; xxiv; xx.
2 See Hardwick's 'Christ and other Masters,' Part iii, pp. 18, 19, with his
reference in a note to a passage from Meadows's 'The Chinese and their
Rebellions.'
3 Ana. III. xiii.
2 Ana. III. xii.
3 Ana. XI. xi.
4 家語, 卷二, art. 致思, towards the end.
2 Ana. VI. xx.
3 See above, near the beginning of this paragraph.
4 Ana. VI. xiii.
5 Am. XVII. xx.
2 天下平. See the 大學, 經, pars. 4, 5; &c.
3 Ana. III. xi; et al.
2 Mencius, I. Pt. I. vi. 6.
3 中庸, xx. 8.
2 Ana. XV. x.
3 Mencius, III. Pt. I. iv. 8.
4 男子者, 任天道而長萬物者也; 女子者, 順男子之道, 而長其理者也.
2 中庸, xx. 14.
2 諸夏; Ana. III. v.
3 天下; passim.
4 Ana. III. v.
5 Ana. IX. xiii.
6 書經, III. ii. 10; et al.
7 柔遠人.
8 賓旅.
2 Ana. XIV. xxxvi.
3 禮記, 表記, par. 12.
4 非禮之正.
5 See notes in loc., p. 288.
2 周禮, 卷之十四, pp. 14-18.
3 禮記, II. Sect. I. Pt. ii. 24. See also the 家語, 卷四, 子貢問.
4 The Chinese, vol. ii. p. 41.
HIS IMMEDIATE DISCIPLES.
2 菜色.
3 芻豢之色.
LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL WORKS WHICH HAVE BEEN CONSULTED IN
THE PREPARATION OF THIS VOLUME.
SECTION I.
CHINESE WORKS, WITH BRIEF NOTICES.
TRANSLATIONS AND OTHER WORKS.
THE WORKS OF CONFUCIUS; containing the Original Text, with a
Translation. Vol. 1. By J. Marshman. Serampore, 1809. This is only a
fragment of 'The Works of Confucius.'
THE FOUR BOOKS; Translated into English, by Rev. David Collie, of the
London Missionary Society. Malacca, 1828.
L'INVARIABLE MILIEU; Ouvrage Moral de Tseu-sse, en Chinois et en
Mandchou, avec une Version litt�©rale Latine, une Traduction Fran�§oise, &c.
&c. Par M. Abel-R�©musat. A Paris, 1817.
LE TA HIO, OU LA GRANDE ÉTUDE; Traduit en Fran�§oise, avec une
Version Latine, &c. Par G. Pauthier. Paris, 1837.
MÉMOIRES concernant L'Histoire, Les Sciences, Les Arts, Les Mœurs,
Les Usages, &c., des Chinois. Par les Missionaires de P�ªkin. A Paris, 1776-
1814.
HISTOIRE GÉNÉRALE DE LA CHINE; ou Annales de cet Empire.
Traduites du Tong-Kien-Kang-Mou. Par le feu P�¨re Joseph-Annie-Marie de
Moyriac de Mailla, Jesuite Fran�§oise, Missionaire � Pekin. A Paris, 1776-
1785.
NOTITIA LINGUÆ SINICÆ. Auctore P. Pr�©mare. Malacc�¦, cura
Academi�¦ Anglo-Sinensis, 1831.
THE CHINESE REPOSITORY. Canton, China, 20 vols., 1832-1851.
DICTIONNAIRE DES NOMS, Anciens et Modernes, des Villes et
Arrondissements de Premier, Deuxi�¨me, et Troisi�¨me ordre, compris dans
L'Empire Chinois, &c. Par Édouard Biot, Membre du Conseil de la Soci�©t�©
Asiatique. Paris, 1842.
THE CHINESE. By John Francis Davis, Esq., F.R.S., &c. In two volumes.
London, 1836.
CHINA: its State and Prospects. By W. H. Medhurst, D. D., of the
London Missionary Society. London, 1838.
L'UNIVERS: Histoire et D�©scription des tous les Peuples. Chine. Par M.
G. Pauthier. Paris, 1838.
HISTORY OF CHINA, from the earliest Records to the Treaty with
Great Britain in 1842. By Thomas Thornton, Esq., Member of the Royal
Asiatic Society. In two volumes. London, 1844.
THE MIDDLE KINGDOM: A Survey of the Geography, Government,
Education, Social Life, Arts, Religion, &c., of the Chinese Empire. By S. Wells
Williams, LL.D. In two volumes. New York and London, 1848. The Second
Edition, Revised, 1883.
THE RELIGIOUS CONDITION OF THE CHINESE. By Rev. Joseph Edkins, B.
A., of the London Missionary Society. London, 1859.
CHRIST AND OTHER MASTERS. By Charles Hardwood, M. A., Christian
Advocate in the University of Cambridge. Part III. Religions of China,
America, and Oceanica. Cambridge, 1858.
INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF. CHINESE CHARACTERS. By J. Edkins,
D.D. London, 1876.
THE STRUCTURE OF CHINESE CHARACTERS, under 300 Primary Forms.
By John Chalmers, M.A., LL.D. Aberdeen, 1882.
End of Project Gutenberg Etext of THE CHINESE CLASSICS (PROLEGOMENA)
by James Legge