NON-CHRISTIAN RELIGIOUS
SYSTEMS!

 

CONFUCIANISM

AND

TAOUISM.

WITH A MAP.

BY

ROBERT K. DOUfiLAS,

OF THE BRITISH Ml'SEL’M, AND PROFESSOR ofr CHIyEsn-zm'r
ch’s COLLEGE, Loxnox.

 

PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF
THE COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION
APPOINTED BY THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING
CHRISTIAN KNO\\’LEDGE.

 

LONDON.
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,

NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, CHARING CROSS;
4, ROYAL EXCHANGE; AND 48, PICCADILLY.

 

NEW YORK : PO'I‘T, YOUNG, & CO.
1879.

LUNDUN 2
WYMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN’s—INN FIELDS, w.c.

PREFACE.

THE present volume contains a new survey of wide
subjects for inquiry. The number of native authors
whose writings it would be necessary to master in the
preparation of a work d6 now on Confucianism and
Taouism is so great that it renders the accomplishment
of such a task by any one author next to impossible.
It has been necessary therefore for me to take ad-
vantage of the labours of preceding European workers
in the separate fields, as well as of Chinese writers
not previously consulted. In the first category I have
to acknowledge the very material assistance I have
derived from Legge’s “Chinese Classics,” Faber’s
“Systematic Digest of the Doctrines of Confucius,”
translated from the German by P. G. Von Moellen-
dorf; Johnson’s “ Oriental Religious China” 3 Watters’
“Lao-tzu”; “The Speculations of ‘the old Philoso-
pher,’ Lau-tsze,” by Chalmers, Julien’s “Le Livre
de la Voie et de la Vertu”; and “Le Livre des
Récompenses et des Peines,” by the same Author.

References to the native works above alluded to
will be found in the foot-notes.

ROBERT K. DOUGLAS.

CONTENTS.

 

 

CONFUCIANISM.

CHAPTER PAGE.
I. INTRODUCTORY 9
II. THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS 25
III. ’ .THE TEACHINGS 0F CONFUCIUS .. 65

IV. THE TRAINING NECESSARY TO BECOME A
“SUPERIOR MAN ” 92
V. THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE I32
VI. THE INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS I43
VII. MENCIUS .. I54
VIII. MODERN CONFUCIANISM... 158

TAOUISM.

I. INTRODUCTORY I73
II. THE TAOU TIH KING I86
III. THE TAOU TIH KING (continued) 206
IV. LEIH-TSZE AND CHWANG-TSZE 221
V. LATER TAOUISM 235

VI. THE BOOK OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS 256
VII. THE BOOK OF SECRET BLESSINGS 272
VIII. TAOUIST DEITIES.... 275

CONFUCIANISM.

CONFUCIANISM

 

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY

CONFUCIUS was not an original thinker. To quote
his own words, “he was a transmitter, and not a
maker 3 ” and in order therefore rightly to understand
his teachings, and the effect they have produced, it is
necessary to glance at the early history of the Chinese
people, and to gain some acquaintance with the
sources from which Confucius drew_hisinspiration.
The earliest records of the Chinese which have
been handed down to us represent them as a small
tribe of wanderers camping in the primeval forests
which then covered the district which is now known
as the Province of Shanse. That they were not
natives of the soil, but were pilgrims and strangers in
the land, is abundantly proved by incidental refer~
ences to their foreign origin in the writings of the
native historians, and by their ethnological charac-
teristics. Numerous theories exist as to the position
of the original cradle of the race, but as yet no evi-
dence has been forthcoming to warrant the assumption
of any definite conclusion in the matter. All that
we can assert is that at some distant period in the
dim past they wandered eastward from Western

[O CONFUCIANISM.

ASIa; probably ath'g'th'eS'outhern slope of the Teen-
shan range, until they reached the northern bend of
the Yellow River, in latitude 41°. Here, after a
weary journey through the Mongolian Desert, they
entered upon a rich and productive land. In this
extraordinarily fertile district scarcely any labour
was demanded by the soil from the emigrant.
To loosen the surface and cast in the seed were all
that was required to secure abundant crops, while the
rain, attracted by the tree-clad mountains, fell in
regular and temperate showers upon the growing grain.

This “garden of China,” as it has been called, was
then the first home of the Chinese in the “Middle
Kingdom.” But they were far from being allowed to
take possession of the land unopposed. Like the
Israelites of old, they found a land flowing with
milk‘and honey, but also, like them, they had
to fight their way, step by step, against the tribal
possessor-s of the soil. The barbarous weapons
and disjointed action, however, of the “Hordes
of the North,” “of the South,” “of the East,”
and “of the West,” who were their foes, were
unable to resist the superior civilization and cohesion
of the Chinese, and gradually as these advanced on
to the plains the retreating “barbarians” sought
shelter among the mountains. But in the presence
of even such enemies it was necessary that the settle—
ment of the country should be undertakenlwith
caution, and as the main body pushed on, colonies
were planted at strategical points on its course under
the direction of chiefs, or “Pastors of Men,” as
Mencius calls them.

INTRODUCTION. I I

The native records of events at this early period
are not to be treated as history, and it is not until we
reach the reign of Yaou (2 3 56 B. C.) that we exchange
the purest fable for even doubtful history. It is at
this point that the S/zoo King, or “Book of History,”
edited by Confucius, commences. “Anciently there
was an Emperor Yaou,” writes the editor, “ all-
informed, intelligent, accomplished, and thoughtful 3”
and if we are to accept the received account of his
reign, this description does not do more than justice
to his character. His first care, we are told, was to
advance the able and virtuous to offices in the state,
and finally he united and harmonized the myriad
states of the empire 3 and, lo 2 the black-haired people
were transformed. He appointed astronomers to
calculate and delineate the movements and appear-
ances of the sun, the moon, the stars, and the zodiacal
spaces; and he then determined the four seasons
and the length of the year. He adopted intercalary
months, and the calendar he arranged is that which
.is still in use in China.

On the death of Yaou, Shun, who had shared his
throne for some years, succeeded as sole emperor.
Like his predecessor, he was “ profound, wise, accom-
plished, and intelligent. He was mild, respectful,
and quite sincere. The report of his mysterious
virtue was heard on high, and he was appointed to
take the throne.” One of his first public acts, after
having still further perfected the astronomical calcu-
lations of- Yaou, was to__s_acrifice _to Shang-te, the
Supreme Ruler or God. “Thereafter,” we are told,
“ he sacrificed specially, but with the ordinary forms,

1 2 . CONFUCIANISM.

to Shang—te; sacrificed with purity and reverence to
the six Honoured Ones; offered appropriate sacri-
fices to the hills and rivers; and extended his worship
to the host of spirits.”1 This is the first mention we
have in Chinese history of religious worship, though
the expressions used plainly imply that the worship
of Shang-te at least had previously existed. It is to
this Supreme Being that all the highest forms of
adoration have been offered in all ages. By His
decree kings were made and rulers executed judg-
ment. In His hands. were the issues of life and
death, and he whom He blessed was blessed, and he
whom He cursed was cursed. In all probability there
was a time when the worship of Shang—te was the
expression of the pure monotheistic faith of the
Chinese. By degrees, however, corruptions crept in,
and though Shang—te always remained the supreme
object of veneration, they saw no disloyalty to him in
rendering homage to the powers of nature which they
learnt to personify, and to the spirits of their departed
ancestors, who were supposed to guard and watch
over, in a subordinate manner, the welfare of their
descendants.

During this reign the empire was divided into twelve
provinces, and ministers of agriculture, crime, works,
forests, religious worship, and of music were appointed.
That the standard of morality was high, even at this
early period, appears from the conversations which
are reported between Shun’s vice-regent Yu and one
of his advisers. In answer to the question put by

‘ Shoo king. Shun-teen.

INTRODUCTION. I 3

Yu, “ What are the nine virtues?” the minister replied,
“Afl‘ability combined with dignity; mildness com-
bined with firmness ; bluntness combined with
respectfulness; aptness for government, combined
with reverence 3 docility combined with boldness;
straightforwardness combined with gentleness; easi-
ness combined with discrimination ; vigour combined
with sincerity ; and valour combined with righteous-
ness.”1

But though the excellence attributed to the early
sovereigns of China appears much overwrought, an
argument for its justice may be found in the fact that
an equally overwhelming condemnation is reserved
for the later sovereigns of the dynasty, which had its
origin in the reigns of Yaou and Shun. Gradually
the high standard of morality which had distinguished
those emperors disappeared under the rule of their
successors, until licentiousness, disorder, and anarchy
reached their height under the infamous tyrant K'éé
Wang, who ascended the throne in the year 1818 B.C.
This “ injurer of men and destroyer of many,” as he
was called, exhausted both the men and means of
his empire by constant wars with the neighbouring
states. Under his rule the affairsfof government were
neglected, and the people cried"aloud for relief from
the tyranny to which they were subjected. A com-
parison between the disorder which reigned in their
own provinces and the quiet contentment of the
people of the neighbouring. state of Shang could not
but force itself on the unfortunate subjects of Kéé,

‘ Shoo king. Kaou-yaou mow.

I 4 CONFUCIANISM.

who sighed for the gentle rule of King T’ang. At
last the tyranny of the despot became unbearable,
and in 1765 B.C. T’ang appealed to the people to rise
against their oppressor, but at the same time he took
care to explain to them that it was as the instrument
of Heaven, and not as a rebel, that he took up arms.
“ It is not I,” said he, “the little child, who dare to
undertake what may seem to be a rebellious enter-
prise; but for the many crimes of the sovereign of
Hea, Heaven has commanded me to destroy him.”1
The struggle was of short duration. On one side
were justice and strong battalions, and on the other
divided counsels and disheartened defenders. But
to the last K'ee professed to feel perfectly secure.
“ Has ever the sun perished?” said he to his people.
“If the sun perish, then I and you will also perish.”
Legend says that in the final battle this phenomenon
actually occurred. Two suns fought in the sky, and
one was devoured by the other. The earth shook
and rivers were dried up. Kee’s troops were utterly
routed, and the fallen emperor remained a prisoner
in the hands of T’ang. In the person of the con-
queror appeared a reflection of the virtues of Yaou
and Shun. Harmony and tranquillity pervaded the
empire, agriculture flourished, and the blessings of
Heaven rested on the land. By degrees, however,
his successors fell short of his example, until P’an-kang
ascended the throne in 1401 B.C. For a time this
sovereign restored prosperity to the country. He put
an end to the abuses which had arisen, and created

‘ Shoo king, T’ang She.

INTRODUCTION. I 5

a new starting-point for his dynasty by changing its
title from Shang to Yin, the name of the new capital
which he elstablished on the south of the Yellow
River. '

With the death of P’an-kang the country again fell
into disorder, which reached its height under the
“dissolute, intemperate, reckless, oppressive” Show
(1154 B.C.—1122). As at the close of the last dynasty
so now, a leader arose who drew all men unto him,
and claiming the same Heaven-sent mission as that
fulfilled by T’ang, the king of Chow took the field
against the tyrant. Addressing the people, he said,
“Show, the king of Shang, does not reverence Heaven
above, and inflicts calamities on the people below.
He has abandoned himself to drunkenness, and is
reckless in lust ..... He has made it his pursuit
to have palaces, towers, pavilions, embankments,
ponds, and all other extravagancies, to the most
painful injury of you, the myriad people. He has
burnt and roasted the loyal and good.

He abides squatting on his heels, not

serving Shang-te or the Spirits of Heaven and Earth,
neglecting also the temple of his ancestors, and not
sacrificing in it ..... The iniquity of Shang is full.
Heaven gives command to destroy it ..... - I, who
am a little child, early and late am filled with appre—
hensions. I have received charge from my deceased
father Wan ; I have offered special sacrifice to God ;
I have performed the due service to the great Earth,
and I lead the multitude of you to execute the
punishment appointed by Heaven.”

This summons was eagerly responded to, not only

1 6 CONFUCIANISM.

by the immediate followers of Woo-Wang, but by the
men of the neighbouring tribes. One battle decided
the issue of the contest. Show’s troops were utterly
routed, and the tyrant finding all lost, burned himself
to death, leaving his followers and empire at the mercy
of the victor. With the energy of a reformer Woo
remodelled the State on its ancient lines. He dis-
possessed all incompetent holders of oflice, and pro-
moted only those who proved themselves worthy and
able. “He attached great importance to the people
being taught the duties of the five relations of society,
to their being well fed, and to the proper observance
of funeral ceremonies and of sacrifices. He showed the
reality of his truthfulness, and proved clearly his
righteousness. He honoured virtue, and rewarded
merit. Then he had only to let his robes fall down,
and fold his hands, and the empire was governed.”
The conquest of the turbulent state of Shang
having been thus accomplished, communication with
the western border tribes was re-established, and
amongst others the people of Leu came to pay their
homage and to acknowledge their fealty by a present
of hounds. These the king would have accepted,
but the imperial guardian dissuaded him from doing
so on grounds which are identical with those on
which the Chinese government of the present day has
steadily refused to accept the inventions and advice
proffered to it by foreigners. “The intelligent kings,”
he said, “have paid careful attention to their virtue,
and the wild tribes on every side have willingly
acknowledged subjection to them. . . . . Complete
virtue allows no contemptuous familiarity ..... A

INTRODUCTION. 17

prince should not value strange things to the con-
temning things that are useful, and then his people
will be able to supply all his needs ..... Even dogs
and horses, which are not native to his country, he
will not keep ; fine birds and strange animals he will
not nourish in his kingdom. W/zm lze does 7202‘ [00k
072 foreign filings as precious, firezg7zers 7027! come 2‘0
lzz’m ,- when it is work which is precious to him, then his
own people will enjoy repose.” These maxims, which
are held to embalm the highest wisdom, have been
carefully acted upon by all virtuous sovereigns, and from
a Chinese point of view the effect has been excellent.
' This proud spirit of self-containment has done much
to maintain the spirit of adulation with which China
has been regarded by the surrounding nations for so
many centuries.

But King Woo had an even more powerful adviser
than the Imperial Guardian in the person of his
younger brother, the Duke of Chow. His conduct
in the first incident in which his name occurs marks
him as a man of strong character, and supplies the
first instance on record of the worship of ancestors.
Two years after the conquest of Shang it chanced
that King Woo fell ill, and was like to die. Where-
upon the courtiers proposed to divine by the tortoise
what should be the end of his illness, but Chow for-
bad this, and having built three altars of earth facing
the south, one for his father, one for his grandfather,
and one for his great-grandfather, he stood opposite
the fourth, which faced the north, and prayed thus :—
“Your chief descendant is suffering from a severe
and dangerous illness 3 if you three kings have in

C

1 8 CONFUCIANISM.

heaven the charge of watching over him, let me suffer
for him. I have been lovingly obedient to my father;
I am possessed of many abilities and arts which fit
me to serve spiritual beings. Your chief descendant,
on the other hand, has not so many abilities and arts
as I, and is not so capable of serving spiritual beings.
And moreover he was appointed in the hall of God
to extend his aid to the four quarters of the empire,
so that he might establish your descendants in this
lower world ..... Oh, do not let that precious
Heaven-conferred appointment fall to the ground,
and all our former kings will have a perpetual reliance
and resort. I will now seek your orders from the
great tortoise. If you grant my request, I will take
these symbols and this mace (emblems of the Imperial
House of Chow) and return and wait for the issue 3 but
if you do not grant it, I will put them by,” 226., the
death of King Woo would be the signal for the fall of
the dynasty, and there would therefore be no further
use for the regalia. On this occasion the king re-
covered, but death soon afterwards overtook him, and
under his successor the empire was divided into two
portions, over one of which the Duke of Chow was
appointed to preside.

On taking over the reins of government, the duke
issued a proclamation to the people of Yin, in which
he briefly summed up the history of the two pre-
ceding dynasties in these words :—“I have heard
the saying, ‘ Shang-te leads man to tranquil security 3’
but the sovereign of Hea would not move to such
security, thereupon Te (God) sent down correction,
indicating his mind to him. Kéé, however, would

INTRODUCTION. ' r 9

not be warned by Te, but proceeded to greater disso-
luteness, and sloth, and- excuses for himself. Then
Heaven no longer regarded nor heard him, but dis—
allowed his great appointment, and inflicted extreme
punishment. Hereupon It charged your founder,
T’ang the Successful, to set Hea aside, and by means
of able men to rule the empire. From T’ang the
Successful down to the Emperor Yih, every sovereign
sought to make his virtue illustrious, and duly
attended to the sacrifices. And thus it was that,
while Heaven executed a great establishing in-
fluence, preserving and regulating the house of Yin,
its sovereigns, on their part, were humbly careful not
to lose the favour of God, and strove to manifest a
good-doing corresponding to that of Heaven. But
in these times, their successor showed himself greatly
ignorant of the ways of Heaven. . . . Greatly
abandoned to dissolute idleness, he paid no regard to
the bright principles of Heaven, nor the awfulness of
the people. On this account Shang-te no longer
protected him, but sent down the great ruin which
we have witnessed. Heaven was not with him be-
cause he did not seek to illustrate his virtue.

The sovereigns of our Chow, by their great good-
ness, were charged with the work of Te. They were
charged to cut off Yin. They have now done it,
and announced the correcting work to God. In our
affairs we have followed no double aims :—ye of the
royal house of Yin must follow us.” Thus was
again brought out prominently the doctrine, re-
iterated by Confucius, that a king’s title to his throne
lasted only as long as he followed the dictates of

C 2

20 CONFUCIANISM.

Heaven, and that when he swerved persistently from
the right course it was competent for the people to
dethrone him. On the virtue and wisdom of the
Duke of Chow Confucius was never tired of ex-
patiating, and he looked upon it as a sign of his
failing powers when he ceased to dream of his great
model.

To the duke succeeded Keun-ch’in in the vice-
regal palace in the eastern capital, and the example
of his illustrious predecessor was held up for his
imitation in a long discourse addressed to him by the
king on his taking office. The influence of his
example on the manners of the people was earnestly
insisted on. “ You are the wind,” said the king, “ the
inferior people are the grass.” The people, he was
reminded, are born good, and it is the fault, there-
fore, of a ruler if he allows them by contact with evil
to fall from the right way. From all accounts Keun-
ch’in was not an unworthy occupant of the great
Duke’s throne, and the empire was fairly prosperous
down to the end of the reign of King Ching in
1079 B.C.

King K’ang, the son of this last monarch, next as-
cended the throne, but though he professed himself
desirous of following in the footsteps of Win and
Woo, who, as he said, were “greatly just and en-
riched the people,” he failed to reach the standard of
virtue which had been set up by those sovereigns.
His reign was a long one, but before it came to a
close in 1051 the seeds of division and strife which
were so soon to bear fruit had already been sown. The
Book of History is silent as to his death and the

INTRODUCTION. 2 I

reign of his successor, Chaou; but the Historical
Record, after mentioning the fact of the death of
K’ang, says :—“During the reign of Chaou ‘the
Royal Path’ was somewhat deflected. The king
went on a tour of inspection on the southern frontier
from which he never returned. He died on the
river.”

Of the next sovereign, Muh Wang, the Historical
Record says that the Royal Path suffered a still
further decline, and that the king encouraged a de-
parture from the ways of Win and Woo. The most
noteworthy action of his reign was the promulgation,
when he was a hundred years old, of a penal code,
under which he drew up a regular scale of fines for
the redemption of punishments. For this the Chinese
historians condemn him, as they consider that these
enactments first opened the door to the system of
official bribery and corruption which has produced
such evils in China ever since.

Up to this point we have followed only the fortunes
of the ruling state of Chow, since, until the ac-
cession of King Muh, when, as the Historical Record
says, the ways of Kings Win and Woo were departed
from, the history of that state may, speaking gene-
rally, be said to have been the history of the whole
empire. But as the hold of the supreme sovereign
over his vassals began to loosen, the princes of the
various states into which the China of that day was
divided became restless under control, and each
sought to aggrandize himself at the expense of his
neighbours, and of his loyalty to his sovereign.

At the time of which we write the Chinese were

22 CONFUCIANISM.

still clinging to the banks of the Yellow River, along
which they had first entered the country, and formed,
within the limits of China proper, a few states on
either shore lying between the 33rd and 38th paral-
lels of latitude, and the 106th and I 19th of longitude.
The royal state of Chow occupied part of the modern
province of Honan. To the north of this was the
powerful state of Tsin, embracing the modern province
of Shanse and part of Chili 3 to the south was the
barbarous state of T’soo, which stretched as far as the
Y ang-tsze-keang; to the east, reaching to the coast,
were a number of smaller states, among which those
of T s’e, Loo, Wei, Sung, and Ching were the chief;
and to the west of the Yellow River was the state of
Ts’in, which was destined eventually to gain the mas-
tery over the contending principalities.

On the establishment of the Chow dynasty, King
Woo had apportioned these fiefships among members
of his family, his adherents, and the descendants of
some of the ancient virtuous kings. Each prince
was empowered to administer his government as he
pleased so long as he followed the general lines indi-
cated by history ; and in the event of any act of ag—
gression on the part of one state against another, the
matter was to be reported to the king of the sovereign
state, who was bound to punish the offender. It is
plain that in such a system the elements of disorder
must lie near the. surface; and no sooner was the
authority of the central state lessened by the want of
ability shown by the successors of Kings Woo, Ching,
and K’ang, than constant strife broke out between the
several chiefs. The hand of every man was against

INTRODUCTION. 2 3

his neighbour, and the smaller states suffered the
usual fate, under like circumstances, of being en-
croached upon and absorbed, notwithstanding their
appeals for help to their common sovereign. The
House of Chow having been thus found wanting,
the device was resorted to of appointing one of the
most powerful princes as a presiding chief, who should
exercise royal functions, leaving the king only the
title and paraphernalia of sovereignty. In fact, the
China of this period was governed and administered
very much as Japan was up till about twenty years
ago. For Mikado, Shogun, and ruling Daimios, read
King, presiding Chief, and Princes, and the parallel
is as nearly as possible complete. The result of the
system, however, in the two countries was different,
for apart from the support received by the Mikado
from the belief in his heavenly origin, the insular
position of Japan prevented the possibility of the
advent of elements of disorder from without, whereas
the principalities of China were surrounded by semi-
barbarous states, the chiefs of which were engaged in
constant warfare with them.

Confucius’s deep spirit of loyalty to the House of
Chow forbade his following in the Book of History
the careers of the sovereigns who reigned between
the death of Muh in 946 B.C. and the accession of
P’ing in 770. One after another these kings rose,
reigned, and died, leaving each to his successor an
ever-increasing heritage of woe. During the reign of
Seuen (827—781) a gleam of light seems to have shot
through the pervading darkness. Though falling
far short of the excellencies of the founders of the

24 CONFUCIANISM.

dynasty, he yet strove to follow, though at a long
interval, the examples they had set him ; and ac-
cording to the Chinese belief, as an acknowledgment
from Heaven of his efforts in the direction of virtue,
it was given him to sit upon the throne for nearly
half a century.

His successor, Yew, “the Dark,” appears to even
less advantage. No redeeming acts relieve the
general disorder of his reign, and at the instigation
of a favourite concubine he is said to have com-
mitted acts which place him on a level with K'e'é and
Show. Earthquakes, storms, and astrological por-
tents appeared as in the dark days at the close of
the Hea and Shang dynasties. His capital was
surrounded by the barbarian allies of the Prince of
Shin, the father of his wife, whom he had dismissed
at the request of his favourite, and in an attempt to
escape he fell a victim to their weapons.

With this event the Western Chow dynasty was
brought to a close.

Here, also, the Book of History comes to an end,
and the Spring and Autumn Annals by Confucius takes
up the tale of iniquity and disorder which overspread
the land. No more dreadful record of a nation’s
struggles can be imagined than that contained in Con-
fucius’s history. The country was torn by discord
and desolated by wars. Husbandry was neglected,
the peace of households was destroyed, and plunder
and rapine were the watchwords of the time.

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 25

CHAPTER II.

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS.

SUCH was the state of China at the time of the birth
of Confucius (B.C. 551). Of the parents of the Sage
we know but little, except that his father, Shuh-leang
Heih, was a military officer, eminent for his com-
manding stature, his great bravery, and immense
strength, andthat his mother’s name was Yen Ching-tsai.
The marriage of this couple took place when Heih
was seventy years old, and the prospect, therefore, of
his having an heir having been but slight, unusual
rejoicings commemorated the birth of ,the son, who
was destined to achieve such everlasting fame.

Report says that the child was born in a cave on
Mount Ne, whither Ching-tsai went in obedience to a
vision to be confined. But this is but one of the
many legends with which Chinese historians love to
surround the birth of Confucius. With the same
desire to glorify the Sage, and in perfect good faith,
they narrate how the event was heralded by strange
portents and miraculous appearances, how genii an-
nounced to Ching-tsai the honour that was in store
for her, and how fairies attended at his nativity.

Of the early years of Confucius we have but scanty

2 6 CONFUCIANISM.

record. It would seem that from his childhood he
showed ritualistic tendencies, and we are told that
as a boy he delighted to play at the arrangement of
vessels and at postures of ceremony. As he advanced
in years he became an earnest student of history, and
looked back with love and reverence to the time when
the great and good Yaou and Shun reigned in

“ A golden age, fruitful of golden deeds.”

At the age of fifteen “he bent his mind to learn-
ing,” and when he was nineteen years old he married
a lady from the state of Sung. As has befallen many
other great men, Confucius’s married life was not a
happy one, and he finally divorced his wife, not, how-
ever, before she had borne him a son.

Soon after his marriage, at the instigation of
poverty, Confucius accepted the office of keeper of
the stores of grain, and in the following year he was
promoted to be guardian of the public fields and
lands. It was while holding this latter office that
his son was born, and so well known and highly
esteemed had he already become that the reigning
duke, on hearing of the event, sent him a present of a
carp, from which circumstance the infant derived his
name, Le (“a carp”). The name of this son seldom
occurs in the life of his illustrious father, and the
few references we have to him are enough to show
that a small share of paternal affection fell to his lot.
“Have you heard any lessons from your father dif-
ferent from what we have all heard?” asked an
inquisitive disciple of him. “No,” replied Le, “he
was standing alone once when I was passing' through

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 27

the court below with hasty steps, and said to me, ‘ Have
you read 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, 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
Pr0priety, your character ‘cannot be established.’”
“I asked one thing,” said the enthusiastic disciple,
“ and I have learned three things. I have learnt about
the Odes; I have learnt about the rules of Pro-
priety; and I have learnt that the superior man
maintains a distant reserve towards his son.”

At the age of twenty-two we find Confucius re-
leased from the toils of office, and devoting his time
to the more congenial task of imparting instruction
to a band of admiring and earnest students. With
idle or stupid scholars he would have nothing to do.
“I do not open the truth,” he said, “to one who is
not eager after knowledge, nor do I help any one
who is not anxious to explain himself. When I
have presented one corner of a subject, and the
listener cannot from it learn the other three, I do
not repeat my lesson.”

When twenty-eight years old Confucius studied
archery, and in the following years took lessons in
music from the celebrated master, Seang. At thirty
he tells us “he stood firm,” and about this time his
fame mightily increased, many noble youths en-
rolled themselves among his disciples ; and on his
expressing a desire to visit the Imperial Court of
Chow to confer on the subject of ancient ceremonies

28 CONFUCIANISM.

with Laou Tan, the founder of the Taouist sect, the
reigning duke placed a carriage and horses at his
disposal for the journey.

The extreme veneration which Confucius enter~
tained for the founders of the Chow dynasty made
the visit to L6, the capital, one of intense interest to
him. With eager delight he wandered through the
temple and audience-chambers, the place of sacri-
fices and the palace, and having completed his in-
spection of the position and shape of the various
sacrificial and ceremonial vessels, he turned to his
disciples and said, “Now I understand the wisdom
of the duke of Chow, and how his house attained to
Imperial sway.” But the principal object of his visit
to Chow was to confer with Laou-tsze; and of the
interview between these two very dissimilar men we
have various accounts. The Confucian writers as a
rule merely mention the fact of their having met,
but the admirers of Laou-tsze affirm that Confucius
was very roughly handled by his more ascetic contem-
porary, who looked down from his somewhat higher
standpoint with contempt on the great apostle of
antiquity. 'It was only natural that Laou-tsze, who
preached that stillness and self-emptiness were the
highest attainable objects, should be ready to assail a
man whose whole being was wrapt up in ceremonial
‘observances and conscious well-doing.) The very
measured tones and considered movements of Con-
fucius, coupled with a certain admixture of that
pride which apes humility, must have been very
irritating to the metaphysically-minded treasurer.
And it was eminently characteristic of Confucius,

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 29

that notwithstanding the great provocation given
him on this occasion, he abstained from any re-
joinder. We nowhere read of his engaging in a
dispute. When an opponent arose, it was in keeping
with the doctrine of Confucius to retire before him.
“A sage,” he said, “will not enter a tottering state
nor dwell in a disorganized one. When right prin-
ciples of government prevail he shows himself, but
when they are prostrated he remains concealed.”
And carrying out the same principle in private life,
he invariably refused to wrangle.

It was possibly in connection with this incident
that Confucius drew the attention of his disciples to
the metal statue of a man with a triple clasp upon
his mouth, which stood in the ancestral temple at
L6. On the back of the statue were inscribed these
words : “ The ancients were guarded in their speech,
and like them we should avoid loquacity. Many
words invite many defeats. Avoid also engaging in
many businesses, for many businesses create many
difficulties.” “Observe this, my children,” said he,
pointing to the inscription. “These words are true,
and commend themselves to our reason.”

Having gained all the information he desired in
Chow, he returned to Loo, where pupils flocked to
him until, we are told, he was surrounded by an
admiring company of three thousand disciples. His
stay in Loo was, however, of short duration, for the
three principal clans of the state, those of Ke, Shfih,
and Mang, after frequent contests between them-
selves, engaged in a war with the reigning duke, and
overthrew his armies. Upon this the duke took

3 O CONFUCIANISM.

refuge in the state of T’se, whither Confuciis fol-
lowed him. As he passed along the road he saw a
woman weeping at a tomb, and having compassion
on her, he sent his disciple Tsze-loo to ask her the
cause of her grief. “You weep as if you had ex-
perienced sorrow upon sorrow,” said Tsze-loo. “I
have,” said the woman, “my father-in-law was killed
here by a tiger, and my husband also ; and now my
son has met the same fate.” “Why, then, do you
not remove from the place?” asked Confucius.
“Because here there is no oppressive government,”
replied the woman. On hearing this answer, Confucius
remarked to his disciples, “My children remember
this, oppressive government is fiercer than a tiger.”

Possibly Confucius was attracted to T’se by a
knowledge that the music of the emperor Shun was
still preserved at the court. At all events, we are
told that having heard a strain of the much-desired
music on his way to the capital, he hurried on, and
was so ravished with the airs he heard that for three
months he never tasted flesh. “I did not think,”
said he, “that music could reach such a pitch of
excellence.”

Hearing of the arrival of the Sage, the Duke of
T’se, King by-name, sent for him, and after some
conversation, being minded to act the part of a
patron to so distinguished a visitor, offered to
make him a present of the city of Lin-k’ew with its
revenues. But this Confucius declined, remarking
to his disciples, “A superior man will not receive"
rewards except for services done. I have given
advice to the duke King, but he has not followed it

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 31

as yet, and now he would endow me with this place.
Very far is he from understanding me.” He still,
however, discussed politics with the duke, and taught
'him that, “There is good government when the
prince is prince, and the minister is minister; when
the father is father, and the. son is son.” “Good,”
said the duke; “if, indeed, the prince be not prince,
the minister not minister, and the son not son,
although I have my revenue, can I enjoy it?”

Though duke King was by no means a satisfac-
tory pupil, many of his instincts were good, and he
once again expressed a desire to pension Confucius,
that he might keep him at hand 5 but Gan Ying, the
Prime Minister, dissuaded him from his purpose.
“These scholars,” said the minister, “are imprac-
ticable, and cannot be imitated. They are haughty
and conceited of their own views, so that they will
not rest satisfied in inferior positions. They set a
high value on all funeral ceremonies, give way to
their grief, and will waste their property on great
funerals, so that they would only be injurious to the
common manners. This Kung Footsze has a thou-
sand peculiarities. It would take ages to exhaust all
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 wish to employ him
to change the customs of T’se, you will not be making
the people your primary consideration.” This rea-
soning had full weight with the duke, who the next
time he was urged to follow the advice of Confucius,
cut short the discussion by the remark, “ I am too old
to adopt his doctrines.”

32 CONFUCIANISM.

Under these circumstances Confucius once more
returned to Loo, only however to find that the con-
dition of the State was still unchanged 5 disorder was
rife; and the reins of government were in the hands
of the head of the strongest party for the time being.
This was no time for Confucius to take office, and
he devoted the leisure thus forced upon him to the
compilation of the “Book of Odes” and the “ Book of
History.”

But in process of time order was once more re-
stored, and he then felt himself free to accept the
post of magistrate of the town of Chung-too, which
was offered him by the duke Ting.

He now had an opportunity of putting his prin-
ciples of government to the test, and the result partly
justified his expectations. He framed rules for the
support of the living, and for the observation of rites
for the dead ; he arranged appropriate food for the old
and the young 3 and he provided for the proper separa-
tion of men and women. And the results were, we are
told, that, as in the time of king Alfred, a thing dropt
on the road was not picked up 3 there was no fraudu-
lent carving of vessels 5 cofiins were made of the
ordained thickness; graves were unmarked by mounds
raised over them; and no two prices were charged
in the markets. The duke, surprised at what he saw,
asked the sage whether his rule of government could
be applied to the whole State. “Certainly,” replied
Confucius, “ and not only to the state of Loo, but to
the whole empire.” Forthwith, therefore, the duke
made him Assistant-Superintendent of Works, and
shortly afterwards appointed him Minister of Crime.

LIFE OF CON FUCIUS. 33

Here, again, his success was complete. From the
day of his appointment crime is said to have dis-
appeared, and the penal laws remained a dead letter.

Courage was recognized by Confucius as being one
of the great virtues, and about this period we have
related two instances in which he showed that he
possessed both moral and physical courage to a high
degree. The chief of the Ke family, being virtual
possessor of the State, when the body of the exiled
duke Chaou was brought from T’se for interment,
directed that it should be buried apart from the
graves of his ancestors. On Confucius becoming
aware of this decision, he ordered a trench to be dug
round the burying-ground which should enclose the
new tomb. “Thus to censure a prince and signalize
his faults is not according to etiquette,‘” said he to
Ke. “I have caused the grave to be included in
the cemetery, and I have done so to hide your dis-
loyalty.” And his action was allowed to pass un-
chaHenged.

The other instance referred to was on the occasion,
a few years later, of an interview between the dukes
of Loo and T’se, at which Confucius was present as
master of ceremonies. At his instigation an altar
was raised at the place of meeting, which was mounted
by three steps, and on this the dukes ascended, and
having pledged one another proceeded to discuss a
treaty of alliance. But treachery was intended on
the part of the duke of T’se, and at a given signal a
band of savages advanced with beat of drum to carry
off the duke of Loo. Some such stratagem had been
considered probable by Confucius, and the instant

- D

34 CONFUCIANISM.

the danger became imminent he rushed to the altar
and led away the duke. After much disorder, in
which Confucius took a firm and prominent part, a
treaty was concluded, and even some land on the
south of the river Win, which had been taken by
Ts’e, was by the exertions of the Sage restored to
Loo. On this recovered territory the people of Loo,
in memory of the circumstance, built a city and called
it, “ The City of Confession.”

But to return to Confucius as the Minister of
Crime. Though eminently successful, the results ob-
tained under his system were not quite such as his
followers have represented them to have been. No
doubt crime diminished under his rule, but it was by
no means abolished. In fact, his biographers men-
tion a case which must have been peculiarly shocking
to him. A father brought an accusation against his
son, in the expectation, probably, of gaining his suit
with ease before a judge who laid such stress on the
virtues of filial piety. But to his surprise, and that of
the on-lookers, Confucius cast both father and son into
prison, and to the remonstrances of the head of the
Ke clan answered, “Am I to punish for a breach of
filial piety one who has never been taught to be
filially minded P Is not he who neglects to teach his
son his duties, equally guilty with the son who fails
in them? Crime is not inherent in human nature,
and therefore the father in the family and the govern-
ment in the State are responsible for the crimes com-
mitted against filial piety and the public laws. If a
king is careless about publishing laws, and then
peremptorily punishes in accordance with the strict

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 35 '

letter of them, he acts the part of a swindler; if he
collect the taxes arbitrarily without giving warning,
he is guilty of oppression 3 and if he puts the people
to death without having instructed them, he commits
a cruelty.”

On all these points Confucius frequently insisted,
and sl'rove both by precept and example to impart
the spirit they reflected on all around him. In the
presence of his prince we are told that his manner,
though self-possessed, displayed respectful uneasiness.
When he entered the palace, or when he passed the
vacant throne, his countenance changed, his legs
bent under him, and he spoke as though he had
scarcely breath to utter a word. When it fell to his
lot to carry the royal sceptre, he stooped his body
as though he were not able to bear its weight. If the
prince came to visit him when he was ill, he had him-
self placed with his head to the east, and lay dressed
in his court clothes with his girdle across them.
When the prince sent him a present of cooked meat,
he carefully adjusted his mat and just tasted the
dishes; if the meat were uncooked, he offered it to
the spirits of his ancestors, and any animal which
was thus sent him he kept alive.

' At the village festivals he never preceded, but
always followed after the elders. To all about him
he assumed an appearance of simplicity and sincerity.
To the court officials of the lower grade he spoke
freely, and to superior officers his manner was bland
but precise. Even at the wild gatherings which
accompanied the annual ceremony of driving away
pestilential influences, he paid honour to the original
D 2

36 ' ) CONFUCIANISM.

meaning of the rite, by standing in court robes on
the eastern steps of his house, and received the
riotous exorcists as though they were favoured guests.
When sent for by the prince to assist in receiving a
royal visitor, his countenance appeared to change.
He inclined himself to the oflicers among whom he
stood, and when sent to meet the visitor at the gate,
“he hastened forward with his arms spread out like
the wings of a bird.” Recognizing in the wind and
the storm the voice of Heaven, he changed coun-
tenance at the sound of a sudden clap of thunder
or a violent gust of wind.

The principles which underlie all these details re-
lieve them from the sense of affected formality which
they would otherwise suggest. Like the Sages of old,
Confucius had an overweening faith in the efiect of
example. “What do you say,” asked the chief of the
Ke clan on one occasion, “to killing the unprin-
cipled for the good of the principled?” “Sir,” re-
plied Confucius, “in carrying on your government
why should you employ capital punishment at all?
Let your evinced desires be for what is good, and the
people will be good.” And then quoting the words of
King Ching, he added, “ The relation between supe-
riors and inferiors is like that between the wind and
the grass. The grass must bend when the wind
blows across it.” Thus in every act“ of his life, whe-
ther at home or abroad, whether at table or in bed,

( whether at study or in moments of relaxation, he did
J1 all with the avowed object of being seen of men and
Qf influencing them by his conduct. And to a certain
extent he gained his end. He succeeded in demo-

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 37

lishing a number of fortified cities which had formed
the hotbeds of sedition and tumult ; and thus added
greatly to the power of the reigning duke. He in-
spired the men with a spirit of loyalty and good faith,
and taught the women to be chaste and docile. On
the report of the tranquillity prevailing in Loo, stran-
gers flocked into the state, and thus was fulfilled the
old criterion of good government which was afterwards
repeated by Confucius, “the people were happy, and
strangers were attracted from afar.”

But even Confucius found it impossible to carry
all his theories into practice, and his experience as
Minister of Crime taught him that something more
than mere example was necessary to lead the people
into the paths of virtue. Before he had been many
months in office, he signed the death-warrant of a well-
known citizen named Shaou for disturbing the public
peace. This departure from the principle be had so
lately laid down astonished his followers, and Tsze-
kung—the Simon Peter as he has been called among
his disciples—took him to task for executing so
notable a man. But Confucius held to it that the
step was necessary. “There are five great evils in
the world,” said he : “a man with a rebellious heart
who becomes dangerous 5 a man who joins to vicious
deeds a fierce temper 3 a man whose words are know-
ingly false; a man who treasures in his memory
noxious deeds and disseminates them ; a man who
follows evil and fertilizes it. All these evil qualities
were combined in Shaou. His house was a ren-
dezvous for the disaffected; his words were speci-
ous enough to dazzle any one; and his opposition

38 CONFUCIANISM.

was violent enough to overthrow any independent
man.”

But notwithstanding such departures from the lines
he had laid down for himself, the people gloried in
his rule and sang at their work songs in which he
was described as their saviour from oppression and
wrong.

Confucius was an enthusiast, and his want of suc-
cess in his attempt completely to reform the age in
which he lived never seemed to suggest a doubt to
his mind of the complete wisdom of his creed. Ac-
cording to his theory, his official administration should
have effected the reform not only of his sovereign and
the people, but of those of the neighbouring states.
But what was the practical result? The contentment
which reigned among the people of Loo, instead of
instigating the Duke of Ts’e to institute a similar
system, only served to rouse his jealousy. “With
Confucius at the head of its government,” said he,
“Loo will become supreme among the states, and
Ts’e, which is nearest to it, will be swallowed up.
Let us pr0pitiate it by a surrender of territory.”
But a more provident statesman suggested that they
should first try to bring about the disgrace of the
Sage.

With this object he sent eighty beautiful girls, well
skilled in the arts of music and dancing, and a hun-
dred and twenty of the finest horses which could be
procured, as a present to the Duke Ting. The result
fully realized the anticipation of the minister. The
girls were taken into the duke’s hareem, the horses
were removed to the ducal stables, and Confucius

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 39

was left to meditate on the folly of men who preferred
listening to the songs of the maidens of Ts’e to the
wisdom of Yaou and Shun. Day after day passed
and the duke showed no signs of returning to his
proper mind. The affairs of state were neglected,
and for three days the duke refused to receive his
ministers in audience.

“Master,” said Tsze-loo, “it is time you went.”
But Confucius, who had more at stake than his dis—
ciple, was disinclined to give up the experiment on
which his heart was set. Besides, the time was ap-
proaching when the great sacrifice to Heaven at the
solstice, about which he had had so many conversa-
tions with the duke, should be offered up, and he
hoped that the recollection of his weighty words
would recall the duke to a sense of his duties. But
his gay rivals in the affections of the duke still held
their sway, and the recurrence of the great festival
failed to awaken his conscience even for the moment.
Reluctantly therefore Confucius resigned his post and
left the capital.

But though thus disappointed of the hopes he
entertained of the Duke of Loo, Confucius was by
no means disposed to resign his ro‘le as the reformer
of the age. “If any one among the princes would
employ me,” said he, “I would effect something con-
siderable in the course of twelve months, and in three
years the government would be perfected.” But the
tendencies of the times were unfavourable to the
Sage. The struggle for supremacy which had been
going on for centuries between the princes of the
various states was then at its height, and though there

4o CONFUCIANISM.

might be a question whether it would finally result in
the victory of Tsin, or of Ts’oo, or of Ts’in, there
could be no doubt that the sceptre had already
passed from the hands of the ruler of Chow. To
men therefore who were fighting over the possessions
of a state which had ceased to live, the idea of employ-
ing a minister whose principal object would have been
to breathe life into the dead bones of Chow, was ridicu-
lous. This soon became apparent to his disciples,
who being even more concerned than their master at
his loss of office, and not taking so exalted a view as
he did of what he considered to be a heaven-sent
mission, were inclined to urge him to make conces-
sions in harmony with the times. “ Your principles,”
said Tsze-kung to him, “are excellent, but they are
unacceptable in the Empire, would it not be well
therefore to bate them a little?” “A good husband-
man,” replied the Sage, “.can sow, but he cannot se-
cure a harvest. An artisan may excel in handicraft,
but he cannot provide a market for his goods. And
in the same way a superior man can cultivate his
principles, but he cannot make them acceptable.”
But Confucius was at least determined that no
efforts on his part should be wanting to discover the
opening for which he longed, and on leaving Loo he
betook himself to the state of Wei. On arriving at the
capital, the reigning duke received him with distinc-
tion, but showed no desire to employ him. Probably
expecting however to gain some advantage from the
counsels of the Sage in the art of governing, be deter-
mined to attach him to his court by the grant of an
annual stipend of 60,000 measures of grain,—that

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 41

having been the value of the post he had just resigned
in Loo. Had the experiences of his public life come
up to the sanguine hopes he had entertained at its
beginning, Confucius would probably have declined
this offer as he did that of the Duke of Ts’e some
years before, but poverty unconsciously impelled him
to act up to the advice of Tsze-kung and to bate his
principles of conduct somewhat. His stay, however,
in Wei was of short duration. The officials at the
court, jealous probably of the influence they feared he
might gain over the duke, intrigued against him, and
Confucius thought it best to bow before the coming
storm. After living on the duke’s hospitality for ten
months, he left the capital, intending to visit the state
of Ch’in.

It chanced, however, that the way thither led him
through the town of Kwang, which had suffered much
from the filibustering expeditions of a notorious dis-
turber of the public peace, named Yang Hoo. To
this man of ill-fame Confucius bore a striking resem-
blance, so much so that the townspeople, fancying
that they now had their old enemy in their power,
surrounded the house in which he lodged for five
days, intending to attack him. The situation was
certainly disquieting, and the disciples were much
alarmed. But Confucius’s belief in the heaven-sent
nature of his mission raised him above fear. “After
the death of King wan,” said he, “was not the cause
of truth lodged in me? If Heaven had wished to let this
sacred cause perish, I should not have been put into
sUch a relation to it. Heaven will not let the cause
of truth perish, and what therefore can the people of

42 CONFUCIANISM.

Kwang do to me?” Saying which he tuned his lyre,
and sang probably some of those songs from his re-
cently compiled Book of Odes which breathed the
wisdom of the ancient emperors.

From some unexplained cause, but more probably
from the people of Kwang discovering their mistake
than from any effect produced by Confucius’s ditties,
the attacking force suddenly withdrew, leaving the
Sage free to go wherever he listed. This misadven-
ture was sufficient to deter him from wandering further
a-field, and, after a short stay at P00, he returned to
Wei. Again the duke welcomed him to the capital,
though it does not appear that he renewed his stipend,
and even his consort Nan-tsze forgot for a while her
intrigues and debaucheries at the news of his arrival.
With a complimentary message she begged an inter-
view with the Sage, which he at first refused 5 but on
her urging her request, he was fain obliged to yield
the point. On being introduced into her presence,
he found her concealed behind a screen, in strict
accordance with the prescribed etiquette, and after
the usual formalities they entered freely into conver-
sation.

Tsze—loo was much disturbed at this want of dis-
cretion, as he considered it, on the part of Confucius,
and the vehemence of his master’s answer showed
that there was a doubt in his own mind whether he
had not overstepped the limits of sage-like propriety.
“Wherein I have done improperly,” said he, “ may
Heaven reject me ! may Heaven reject me !” This
incident did not, however, prevent him from main-
taining friendly relations with the court, and it was

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 43

not until the duke by a public act showed his in-
ability to understand the dignity of the role which
Confucius desired to assume, that he lost all hope of
finding employment in the state of his former patron.
On this occasion the duke drove through the streets
of his capital seated in a carriage with Nan-tsze, and
desired Confucius to follow in a carriage behind.
As the procession passed through the market-place,
the people perceiving more clearly than the duke the
incongruity of the proceeding, laughed and jeered at
the idea of making virtue follow in the wake of lust.
This completed the shame which Confucius felt at
being in so false a position. “ I have not seen one,”
said he, “who loves virtue as he loves beauty.” To
stay any longer under the protection of a court which
could inflict such an indignity upon him was more
than he could do, and he therefore once again struck
southward towards Ch’in.

After his retirement from office it is probable that
Confucius devoted himself afresh to imparting to his
followers those doctrines and opinions which we shall
consider later on. Even on the road to Ch’in we
are told that he practised ceremonies with his dis-
ciples beneath the shadow of a tree by the wayside in
Sung. In the spirit of Laou-tsze, [kuy T’uy, an
officer in the neighbourhood, was angered at his
reported “ proud air and many desires, his insinuating
habit and wild"wi11,” and attempted to prevent him
entering the state. In this endeavour, however, he
was unsuccessful, as were some more determined
opponents, who two years later attacked him at P00,
when he was on his way to Wei. On this occasion

44 CONFUCIANISM.

he was seized, and though it is said that his followers
struggled manfully with his captors, their efforts did
not save him from having to give an oath that he
would not continue his journey to Wei. But in spite
of his oath, and in spite of the public slight which
had previously been put upon him by the Duke of
Wei, an irresistible attraction drew him towards that
state, and he had no sooner escaped from the clutches
of his captors than he continued his journey.

This deliberate forfeiture of his word in one who
had commanded them to “hold faithfulness and sin-
cerity as first principles,” surprised his disciples 3 and
Tsze-kung, who was generally the spokesman on such
occasions, asked him whether it was right to violate
the oath he had taken. But Confucius, who had
learned expediency in adversity, replied, “ It was an
oath extracted by force. The spirits do not hear
such.”

But to return to Confucius flying from his enemies
in Sung. Finding his way barred by the action of
Hwan T ’uy, he proceeded westward and arrived at
Ch’ing, the capital of the state of the same name.,
Thither it would appear his disciples had preceded
him, and he arrived unattended at the eastern gate
of the city. But his appearance was so striking that
his followers were soon made aware of his presence.
“There is a man,” said a townsman to Tsze—kung,
“ standing at the east gate with a forehead like Yaou,
a neck like Kaou Yaou, his shoulders on a level with
those of Tsze-ch’an, but wanting below the waist three
inches of the height of Yu, and altogether having the
forsaken appearance of a stray dog.” Recognizing

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 45

his master in this description, Tsze-kung hastened
to meet him, and repeated to him the words of his
informant. Confucius was much amused, and said :
“The personal appearance is a small matter; but to
say I was like a stray dog—capital ! capital 1”

The ruling powers in Ch’ing, however, showed
no disposition to employ even a man possessing
such marked characteristics, and before long he
removed to Ch’in, where he remained a year.
From Ch’in he once more turned his face towards
Wei, and it was while he was on this journey
that he”was detained at P’oo, as mentioned above.
Between Confucius and the Duke of Wei there evi-
dently existed a personal liking, if not friendship.
The duke was always glad to see him and ready to
converse with him 3 but Confucius’s unbounded ad-
miration for those whose bones, as Laou-tsze said,
were mouldered to dust, and especially for the founders ‘
of the Chow dynasty, made it impossible for the duke
to place him in any post of importance. At the same
time Confucius seems always to have hoped that he
would be able to gain the duke over to his views;
and thus it came about that the Sage was constantly
attracted to the court of Duke Ling, and as often
compelled to exile himself from it.

On this particular occasion, as at all other times, the
duke received him gladly, but their conversations,
which had principally turned on the act of peaceful
government, were now directed to warlike affairs.
The duke was contemplating an attack on P’oo, the
inhabitants of which, under the leadership of Hwan
T’uy, who had arrested Confucius, had rebelled

46 CONFUCIANISM.

against him. At first Confucius was quite disposed
to support the duke in his intended hostilities; but
a representation from the duke that the probable
support of other states would make the expedition
one of considerable danger, converted Confucius to
the opinion evidently entertained by the duke, that
it would be best to leave Hwan T’uy in possession of
his ill-gotten territory. Confucius’s latest advice was
then to this effect, and the duke acted upon it.

The duke was now becoming an old man, and with
advancing age came a disposition to leave the task
of governing to others, and to weary of Confucius’s
high-flown lectures. He ceased “to use” Confucius,
as the Chinese historians say, and the Sage was there-
fore indignant, and ready to accept any offer which
might come from any quarter. While in this humour
he received an invitation from Pih Hih, an officer of
the state of Tsin who was holding the town of
Chung-mow against his chief, to visit him, and he was
inclined to go. It is impossible to study this portion
of Confucius’s career without feeling that a great
change had come over his conduct. There was no
longer that lofty love of truth and of virtue which
had distinguished the commencement of his official
life. Adversity, instead of stiffening his back, had
.made him pliable. He who had formerly refused to
receive money he had not earned, was now willing
to take pay in return for no other services than the
presentation of courtier-like advice on occasions when
Duke Ling desired to have his opinion in support of
his own; and in defiance of his oft-repeated denun-
ciation of rebels, he was now ready to go over to the

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 47

court of a rebel chief, in the hope possibly of being
able through his means “to establish,” as he said on
another occasion, “ an Eastern Chow.”

Again Tsze-loo interfered, and expostulated with
him on his inconsistency. “ Master,” said he, “ I have
heard you say that when a man is guilty of personal
wrong-doing, a superior man will not associate with
him. If you accept the invitation of this Pih Hih,
who is in open rebellion against his chief, what will
people say?” But Confucius, with a dexterity which
had now become common with him, replied : “ It is
true I have said so. But is it not also true that if a
thing be really hard, it may be ground without being
made thin 3 and if it be really white, it may be steeped
in a black fluid without becoming black? Am I a
bitter gourd? Am I to be hung up out of the way
of being eaten.” But nevertheless Tsze-loo’s remon—
strances prevailed, and he did not go.

His relations with the duke did not improve, and
so dissatisfied was he with his patron that he retired
from the court. As at this time Confucius was not in
the receipt of any official income, it is probable that
he again provided for his wants by imparting to his
disciples some of the treasures out of the rich stores
of learning which he had collected by means of
diligent study and of a wide experience. Every word
and action of Confucius were full of such meaning to
his admiring followers that they have enabled us to
trace him into the retirementflof private life. In his
dress, we are told, he was careful to wear only the
“ correct” colours, viz. azure, yellow, carnation, white
and black, and he scrupulously avoided red as being the

48 CONFUCIANISM.

colour usually affected by women and girls. At the
table he was moderate in his appetite but particular
as to the nature of his food and the manner in which
it was set before him. Nothing would induce him to
touch any meat that was “high” or rice that was musty,
nor would he eat anything that was not properly
cut up or accompanied with the proper sauce. He
allowed himself only a certain quantity of meat and
rice, and though no such limit was fixed to the amount
of wine with which he accompanied his frugal fare,
we are assured that he never allowed himself to be
confused by it. When out driving, he never turned
his head quite round, and in his actions as well as in
his words he avoided all appearance of haste.

' Such details are interesting in the case of a man
like Confucius, who has exercised so powerful an in-
fluence over so large a proportion of the world’s in-
habitants, and whose instructions, far from being con-
fined to the courts of kings, found their loudest
utterances in intimate communings with his disciples,
and in the example he set by the exact performance
of his daily duties.

The only accomplishment which Confucius pos-
sessed was a love of music, and this he studied less
as an accomplishment than as a necessary part of edu-
cation. “It is by the odes that the mind is aroused,”
said he. “It is by the rules of propriety that the
character is established. And it is music which com-
pletes the edifice”.

But having tasted the sweets of official life, Confucius
was not inclined to resign all hope of future employ-
ment, and the Duke of Wei still remaining deaf to

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 49

his advice, he determined to visit the state of T sin, in
the hope of finding in Chaou Keen-tsze, one of the
three Chieftains who virtually governed that state, a
more hopeful pupil. With this intention he started
westward, but had got no further than the Yellow River
when the news reached him of the execution of Tuh
Ming and Tuh Shun-hwa, two men of note in Tsin.
The disorder which this indicated put a stop to his
journey; for had not he himself said “ that a superior
man will not enter a tottering state.” His disap-
pointment and grief were great, and looking at the
yellow waters as they flowed at his feet, he sighed and
muttered to himself : “ Oh how beautiful were they ;
this river is not more majestic than they were ! and
I was not there to avert their fate !”

So saying he returned to Wei, only to find the duke
as little inclined to listen to his lectures, as he was
deeply engaged in warlike preparations. When Con—
fucius presented himself at court, the duke refused to
talk on any other subject but military tactics, and
forgetting, possibly on purpose, that Confucius was
essentially a man of peace, pressed him for informa-
tion on the art of manoeuvring an army. “If you
should wish to know how to arrange sacrificial vessels,”
said the Sage, “ I will answer you, but about warfare
I know nothing.”

Confucius was now sixty years old, and the con-
dition of the states composing the empire was even
more unfavourable for the reception of his doctrines
than ever. But though depressed by fortune, he never
lost that steady confidence in himself and his mission, ,,
which was a leading characteristic of his career, and

E

50 CONFUCIANISM.

when he found the Duke of Wei deaf to his advice,
he removed to Ch’in, in the hope of there finding a
ruler who would appreciate his wisdom.

In the following year he left Ch’in with his disciples
for Ts’ae, a small dependency of the state of Ts’oo.
In those days the empire was subjected to constant
changes. One day a new state carved out of an old
one would appear, and again it would disappear, or
increase in size, as the fortunes of war might deter-
mine. Thus while Confucius was in Ts’ae, a part of
Ts’oo declared itself independent, under the name
of Ye, and the ruler usurped the title of duke. In
earlier days such rebellion would have called forth a
rebuke from Confucius 3 but it was otherwise now, and,
instead of denouncing the usurper as a rebel, he
sought him as a patron. The duke did not know
how to receive his visitor, and asked Tsze-loo about
him. But Tsze-loo, possibly because he considered
the duke to be no better than Pih Hih, returned him
no answer. For this reticence Confucius found fault
with him, and said, “Why did you not say to him,
‘He is simplya man who, in his eager pursuit of
knowledge, forgets his food; who, in the joy of its
attainments, forgets his sorrows; and who does not
perceive that old age is coming on ? ’ ”

But whatever may have been the opinion of Tsze-
loo, Confucius was quite ready to be on friendly terms
with the duke, who seems to have had no keener
relish for Confucius’s ethics than the other rulers to
whom he had offered his services. We are only told
of one conversation which took place between the
duke and the Sage, and on that occasion the duke

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 51‘-

questioned him on the subject of government. Con-
fucius’s reply was eminently characteristic of the man.
Most of his definitions of good government would
have sounded unpleasantly in the ears of a man who -
had just thrown off his master’s yoke and headed a
successful rebellion, so be cast about for one which
might offer some excuse for the new duke by attribut-
ing the fact of his disloyalty to the bad government
of his late ruler. Quoting the words of an earlier
sage, he replied, “Good government obtains when
those who are near are made happy, and those who
are far off are attracted.” .
Returning from Ye to Ts’ae, he came to a river-
which, being unbridged,left him no resource but to ford.
it. Seeing two men whom he recognized as political
recluses ploughing in a neighbouring field, he sent the»
ever-present Tsze-loo to inquire of them where best
he could effect a crossing. “ Who is that holding the
reins in the carriage yonder?” asked the first ad-
dressed, in answer to Tszeeloo’s inquiry. “ Kung
Kew,” replied the disciple. “ Kung Kew, of Loo ? ”
asked the ploughman. “ Yes,” was the reply. “He'
knows the ford,” was the enigmatic answer of the man
as he turned again to his work ; but whether this reply
was suggested by the general belief that Confucius.
was omniscient, or by way of a parable to signify that
Confucius possessed the knowledge by which the river-
of disorder, which was barring the progress of liberty
and freedom, might be crossed, we are only left to.
conjecture. Nor from the second recluse could
Tsze-loo gain any practical information. “Who are
you, sir?” was the somewhat peremptory question.
E 2

5 2 CONFUCIANISM.

which his inquiry met with. Upon his answering
that he was a disciple of Confucius, the man, who
might have gathered his estimate of Confucius from
the mouth of Laou-tsze, replied: “Disorder, like a
swelling flood, spreads over the whole empire, and
who is he who will change it for you ? Rather than
follow one who merely withdraws from this court to
that court, had you not better follow those who (like
ourselves) withdraw from the world altogether?” These
words Tsze-loo, as was his wont, repeated to Confucius,
who thus justified his career: “It is impossible to
associate with birds and beasts as if they were the
same as ourselves. If I associate not with people,
with mankind, with whom shall I associate? If
right principles prevailed throughout the empire, there
would be no necessity for me to change its state.”
Altogether Confucius remained three years in
Ts’ae,—three years of strife and war, during which
his counsels were completely neglected. Towards
their close, the state of Woo made an attack on
Ch’in, which found support from the powerful state
of 'l‘s’oo on the south. While thus helping his ally,
the Duke of Ts’oo heard that Confucius was in Ts'ae,
and determined to invite him to his court. With this
object he sent messengers bearing presents to the
Sage, and charged them with a message begging him
to come to Ts’oo. Confucius readily accepted the
invitation, and prepared to start. But the news of
the transaction alarmed the ministers of Ts’ae and
Ch’in. “Ts’oo,” said they, “is already a powerful
state, and Confucius is a man of wisdom. Experience
has proved that those who have despised him have

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 53

invariably suffered for it, and, should he succeed in
guiding the affairs of Ts’oo, we should certainly be
ruined. At all hazards we must stop his going.”
When, therefore, Confucius had started on his jour-
ney, these men despatched a force which hemmed
him in in a wild bit of desert country. ' Here, we are
told, they kept him a prisoner for seven days, during
which time he suffered severe privations, and, as was
always the case in moments of difficulty,'the disciples
loudly bewailed their lot and that of their master.

“Has the superior man,” said Tsze-loo, “indeed,
to endure in this way?” “ The superior man may
indeed have to suffer want,” replied Confucius, “but
it is only the mean man who, when he is in straits,
gives way to unbridled license.” In this emergency
he had recourse to a solace which had soothed him
on many occasions when fortune frowned : he played
' on his lute and sang.

At length he succeeded in sending word to the
Duke of Ts’oo of the position he was in. At once
the duke sent ambassadors to liberate him, and he
himself went out of his capital to meet him. But
though he welcomed him cordially, and seems to have
availed himself of his advice on occasions, he did not
appoint him to any office, and the intention he at one
time entertained of granting him a slice of territory
was thwarted by his ministers, from motives of -ex-
pediency. “Has your majesty,” said this officer,
“any servant who could discharge the duties of
ambassador like Tsze-kung? or any one so well
qualified for a premier as Yen kuy? or any one to
compare as a general with Tsze-loo? Did not kings

I

,54 CONFUCIANISM.

Win and Woo, from their small states of F ung and
Kaou, rise to the sovereignty of the empire? And if
K’ung K’ew once acquired territory, with such disci-
ples to be his ministers, it will not be to the prosperity
of Ts’oo.”

This remo'nstrance not only had the immediate
effect which was intended, but appears to have in-
fluenced the manner of the duke towards the Sage,
for in the interval between this and the duke’s death,
in the autumn of the same year, we hear of no counsel
being either asked or given. In the successor to the
throne Confucius evidently despaired of finding a
patron, and he once again returned to Wei.

Confucius was now sixty—three, and on arriving at
Wei he found a grandson of his former friend, the
Duke Ling, holding the throne against his own father,
who had been driven into exile for attempting the
life of his mother, the notorious N an-tsze. This chief,
Who called himself the Duke Chuh, being conscious
how much his cause would be strengthened by the
'support of Confucius, sent Tsze-loo to him, saying,
“‘ The Prince of Wei has been waiting to secure your
services in the administration of the state, and wishes
to know what you consider is the first thing to be
done.” “It is first of all necessary,” replied Con-
fucius, “to rectify names.” “ Indeed,” said Tzse-loo,
“ you are wide of the mark. Why need there be such
rectification?” “ How uncultivated you are, Yew,”
answered Confucius; “a superior man shows a cautious
reserve in regard to whathe does not know. If names
be not correct, language is not in accordance with the
truth of things. If language be not in accordance

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS 55

with the truth of things, affairs cannot be carrifid on
successfully. When affairs cannot be carried on suc-
cessfully, proprieties and music will not flourish.
When proprieties and music do not flourish, punish-
ments will not properly be awarded. When punish-
ments are not properly awarded, the people do not
know how to move hand or foot. Therefore the
superior man considers it necessary that names
should be used appropriately, and that his direc-
tions should be carried out appropriately. A superior
man requires that his words should be correct.”

The position of things in Wei was naturally such as
Confucius could not sanction, and, as the duke
showed no disposition to amend his ways, the Sage
‘ left his court, and lived the remainder of the five or six
years, during which he sojourned in the state, in close
retirement.

He had now been absent from his native state of
Loo for fourteen years, and the time had come when
he was to return to it. But, by the irony of fate, the
accomplishment of his long-felt desire was due, not to
his reputation for political or ethical wisdom, but to
his knowledge of military tactics, which he heartily
despised. It happened that at this time Yen Yew, a
disciple of the Sage, being in the service of Ke K’ang,
conducted a campaign against Ts’e with much suc-
cess. On his triumphal return, Ke K’ang asked him
how he had acquired his military skill. “ From Con-
fucius,” replied the general. “ And what kind of man
is he P” asked Ke K’ang. “Were you to employ
him,” answered Yen Yew, “ your fame would spread
abroad 3 your people might face demons and gods,

56 CONFUCIANISM.

and would have nothing either to fear or to ask of
them. And if you accepted his principles, were you
to collect a thousand altars of the spirits of the land
it would profit you nothing.” Attracted by such a
prospect, Ke K’ang proposed to invite the Sage to his
court. “If you do,” said Yen Yew, “mind you do
not allow mean men to come between you and him.”

But before Ke K’ang’s invitation reached Confucius
an incident occurred which made the arrival of the
messengers from Loo still more welcome to him.
K’ung Win, an officer of Wei, came to consult him
as to the best means of attacking the force of another
officer with whom he was engaged in a feud. Con-
fucius, disgusted at being consulted on such a subject,
professed ignorance, and prepared to leave the state,
saying as he went away : “The bird chooses its tree ;
the tree does not choose the bird.” At this juncture
Ke K’ang’s envoys arrived, and without hesitation he
accepted the invitation they brought. On arriving at
Loo, he presented himself at court, and in reply to a
question of the Duke Gae on the subject of govern-
ment, threw out a strong hint that the duke might do
well to offer him an appointment. “Government,”
he said, “consists in the right choice of ministers.”
To the same question put by Ke K’ang he replied,
“ Employ the upright and put aside the crooked, and
thus will the crooked be made upright.”

At this time Ke K’ang was perplexed how to deal
with the prevailing brigandage. “If you, sir, were
not avaricious, though you might offer rewards to in-
duce people to steal, they would not.” This answer
sufficiently indicates the estimate formed by Confucius

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 57

of Re K’ang and therefore of the duke Gae, for so
entirely were the two of one mind that the acts of
Ke K’ang appear to have been invariably endorsed
by the duke. It was plainly impossible that Confucius
could serve under such a régime, and instead, there-
fore, of seeking employment, he retired to his study
and devoted himself to the completion of his literary
undertaking.

He was now sixty-nine years of age, and if a man
is to be considered successful only when he succeeds
in realizing the dream of his life, he must be deemed
to have been unfortunate. Endowed by nature with
a large share of reverence, a cold rather than a fervid
disposition, and a studious mind, and reared in the
traditions of the ancient kings, whose virtuous achieve-
ments obtained an undue prominence by the oblitera-
tion of all their faults and failures, he believed him-
self capable of effecting far more than it was possible
for him or any other man to accomplish. In the
earlier part of his career, he had in Loo an oppor-
tunity given him for carrying his theories of govern-
ment into practice, and we have seen how they failed
to do more than produce a temporary improvement
in the condition of the people under his immediate
rule. But he had a lofty and steady confidence in
himself and in the principles which he professed,
which prevented his accepting the only legitimate
inference which could be drawn from his want of
success. The lessons of his own experience were
entirely lost upon him, and he went down to his
grave at the age of seventy-two firmly convinced as of
yore that if he were placed in a position of authority

5 8 CONFUCIANISM.

“ in three years the government would be per-
fected.”

Finding it impossible to associate himself with the
rulers of Loo, he appears to have resigned himself to
exclusion from office. His wanderings were over—

And as a hare, when hounds and homs pursue,
Pants to the place from whence at first he flew,

he had lately been possessed with an absorbing desire
to return once more to Loo. This had at last been
brought about, and he made up his mind to spend
the remainder of his days in his native state. He
had now leisure to finish editing the Shoo King, or
“Book of History,” to which he wrote a preface 3 he
also “ carefully digested the rites and ceremonies
determined by the wisdom of the more ancient sages
and kings 5 collected and arranged the ancient poetry;
and undertook the reform of music.” He made a
diligent study of the “ Book of Changes,” and added a
commentary to it, which is sufficient to show that the
original meaning of the work was as much a mystery
to him as it has been to others. His idea of what
would probably be the value of the kernel encased in
this unusually hard shell, if it were once rightly under-
stood, is illustrated by his remark “that if some years
could be added to his life, he‘would give fifty of them
to the study of the Book of Changes, and that then
he expected to be without great faults.”

In the year 482 B.C. his son Le died, and in the
following year he lost by death his faithful disciple
Yen kuy. When the news of this last misfortune '
reached him, he exclaimed, “Alas ! Heaven is destroying

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 59

‘1)

me A year later a servant of Ke K’ang caught
a strange one-horned animal while on a hunting ex-
cursion, and as no one present could tell what animal
it was, Confucius was sent for. At once he declared
it to be a K’e-lin, and legend says that its identity
with the one which appeared before his birth was
proved by its having the piece of ribbon on its horn
which Ching—tsae tied to the weird animal which pre-
sented itself to her in a dream on Mount Ne. This
second apparition could only have one meaning, and
Confucius was profoundly affected at the portent.
“For whom have you come P ” he cried, “for whom
have you come?” and then, bursting into tears, he
added, “ The course of my doctrine is run, and I am
unknown.”

“How do you mean that you are unknown?”
.asked Tsze-kung. “ I don’t complain of Providence,”
answered the Sage, “ nor find fault with men that learn-
ing is neglected and success is worshipped. Heaven
knows me. . . . Never does a superior man pass
away without leaving a name behind him. But my
principles make no progress, and I, how shall I be
viewed in future ages P”

At this time, notwithstanding his declining strength
and his many employments, he wrote the “Ch’un
ts’ew, or Spring and Autumn Annals,” in which he
followed the history of his native state of Loo, from
the time of the Duke Yin to the fourteenth year of
the Duke Gae, that is, to the time when the appear-
ance of the K’e-lin warned him to consider his life at
an end.

This is the only work of which Confucius was the

60 CONFUCIANISM.

author, and of this every word is his own. His
biographers say that “what was written, he wrote, and
what was erased, was erased by him.” Not an ex-
pression was either inserted or altered by any one
but himself. When he had completed the work, he
handed the manuscript to his disciples, saying, “By
the Spring and Autumn Annals I shall be known,
and by the Spring and Autumn Annals I shall be
condemned.” This only furnishes another of the
many instances in which authors have entirely mis-~
judged the value of their own works.

In the estimation of his countrymen even, whose
reverence for his every word would incline them to
accept his opinion on this as on every subject, the
Spring and Autumn Annals holds a very secondary
place, his utterances recorded in the [.2172 3'21, or
“ Confucian Analects,” being esteemed of far higher
value, as they undoubtedly are. And indeed the
two works he compiled, the “Shoo king” and the “She
king,” hold a very much higher place in the public
regard than the book on which he so prided himself.
To foreigners, whose judgments are unhampered by
his recorded opinion, his character as an original
historian sinks into insignificance, and he is known
only as a philosopher and statesman.

Once again only do we hear of Confucius pre-
senting himself at the court of the duke after this.
And this was on the occasion of the murder of the
Duke of Ts’e by one of his officers. We must sup-
pose that the crime was one of a gross nature, for it
raised Confucius’s fiercest anger, and he who never
wearied of singing the praises of those virtuous men

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 6 I

who overthrew the thrones of licentious and tyrannous
kings, would have had no room for blame if the mur-
dered duke had been like unto Kéé or Show. But
the outrage was one which Confucius felt should be
avenged, ,and he therefore bathed and presented him-
self at court.

“ Sir,” said he, addressing the duke, “ Ch’in Hang
has slain his sovereign ; I beg that you will undertake
to punish him.” But the duke was indisposed to
move in the matter, and pleaded the comparative
strength of Ts’e. Confucius, however, was not to be
so silenced. “ One half of the people of Ts’e,” said
he, “are not consenting to the deed. If you add to
the people of Loo one half of the people of Ts’e, you
will be sure to overcome.” This numerical argument
no more affected the duke than the statement of
the fact, and wearying with Confucius’s importunity,
he told him to lay the matter before the chiefs of the
three principal families of the state. Before this
court of appeal, whither he went with reluctance,
his cause fared no better, and the murder remained
unavenged.

At a period when every prince held his throne by
the strength of his right arm, revolutions lost half
their crime, and must have been looked upon rather
as trials of strength than as disloyal villanies. The
frequency of their occurrence, also, made them less
the subjects of surprise and horror. At the time of
which we write, the states in the neighbourhood of
Loo appear to have been in a very disturbed con-
dition. Immediately following on the murder of the
Duke of Ts’e, news was brought to Confucius that

62 CONFUCIANISM.

a revolution had broken out in Wei. This was an
occurrence which particularly interested him, for
when he returned from Wei to Loo he left Tsze-
100 and Tsze-kaou, two of his disciples, engaged in
the official service of the state. “Tsze-kaou will
return,” was Confucius’s remark, when he was told
of the outbreak, “but Tsze-loo will die.” The pre-
diction was verified. For when Tsze—kaou saw that
matters were desperate he made his escape; but
Tsze-loo remained to defend his chief, and fell,
fighting in the cause of his master. Though Con-
fucius had looked forward to the event as probable,
he was none the less grieved when he heard that it
had come about, and he mourned for his friend,
whom he was so soon to follow to the grave.

One morning, in the spring of the year 478 B.C.,
he walked in front of his door, mumbling as he
went :—

The great mountain must crumble ;

The strong beam must break ;
And the wise man withers away like a plant.

These words came as a presage of evil to the faithful
Tsze-kung. “If the great mountain crumble,” said
he, “to what shall I look up? If the strong beam
break, and the wise man wither away, on whom shall
I lean P The master, I fear, is going to be ill.” So
saying, he hastened after Confucius into the house.
“What makes you so late?” said Confucius, when
the disciple presented himself before him 3 and then
he added, “According to the statutes of Hea, the
corpse was dressed and coflined at the top of the
eastern steps, treating the dead as if he were still the

LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 63

host. Under the Yin, the ceremony was performed
between the two pillars, as if the dead were both host
and guest. The rule of Chow 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. N o intelligent monarch
arises ; there is not one in the empire who will make
me his master. My time is come to die.” It is
eminently characteristic of Confucius that in his last
recorded speech and dream, his thoughts should so
have dwelt on the ceremonies of bygone ages. But
the dream had its fulfilment. That same day he took
to his bed, and after a week’s illness he expired.

On the banks of the river Sze, to the north of the
capital city of Loo, his disciples buried him, and for
three years they mourned at his grave. Even such
marked respect as this fell short of the homage which
Tsze-kung, his most faithful disciple, felt was due to
him, and for three additional years that loving fol-
lower testified by his grief his reverence for his master.
“ I have all my life had the heaven above my head,”
said he, “but I do not know its height; and the earth
under my feet, but I know not its thickness. In
serving Confucius, I am like a thirsty man, who goes
with his pitcher to the river and there drinks his fill,
without knowing the river’s depth.”

Mr. Williamson, who in 1865 visited the tomb of
the Sage, thus describes it as it at present exists: “ A
fine avenue of old cypress-trees leads due north from
the north gate to the burial-ground. In a forest of
oak, cypress, and other trees, enclosed by a high wall,

64 CONFUCIANISM.

is the grave. Entering the graveyard, we passed
through a finely ornamented gate, and then to a
second avenue, with lions and other creatures in stone
on either hand, and the unfailing cypress overhead.
As we approached the tomb, two sages larger than
life faced each other, looking most solemnly, as if
they wished to remind the visitor of the sacredness
of the place. Passing the house where sacrifices are
prepared and the worshippers rest and meditate, we
were shown a tree planted by Tsze-kung, one of the
Sage’s disciples, and a pavilion erected by the emperor
Keen-lung ..... The tomb of Confucius is a huge
mound, overgrown with trees and shrubs, having in
front of it the usual arrangements for sacrifice. Beside
it stands a tablet, twenty-five feet high by six feet broad,
on which are engraved the name and doings of the
Sage ..... On the west of the tomb of the Sage is
that of his son Le . . . . and all around the graves of
the chiefs of the clan.”

The descriptions given by his contemporaries of
the appearance of the Sage are so allegorical that
they represent nothing definite to the mind, and pre-
suppose an intimate acquaintance on the part of the
reader with the outward form and shape of the
emperors Yaou and Shun. In his name Kew we
have reference to a peculiarity in the shape of his
head, which is said to have resembled Mount Kew in
having a hollow on the top 3 whence his name. His
statue, which stands in the temple adjoining his tomb,
represents him as having been “tall, strong, and well-
built, with a full, red face, and large and heavy
headi’

CONFUCIANISM. 65

CHAPTER III.
THE TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS.

POSTERITY is the truest judge of a man’s work.
Many things may tend to warp the judgment of his
contemporaries. His adoption of the popular view
of the politics of the day may raise him to an extra-
vagant height in their estimation, or should the oppo-
site party enlist his advocacy, he may be proportion-
ately undervalued No such considerations influence
the finding of posterity. Being removed by time
from the passions of the day, they are removed also
from its prejudices. They are not so much concerned
with the struggles and throes of parties as with the
results to which those struggles and throes give birth.
To them the hero of an age appears not unfrequently
as a charlatan; and in their estimation the man of
genius, depressed by fortune and borne down by
adversity, is restored to his legitimate position.

No great character in history can appeal more
surely from the opinion of his contemporaries to the
verdict of posterity than Confucius. He was essen-
tially a statesman, and the political views he advocated
required for their development a sustained period of
peace and quiet. He was born for a time of peace,

F

66 CONFUCIANISM.

and he was nurtured amid the clash of arms 3 he was
designed by nature for the council-chamber, and he
was destined to find governments administered by
armed men surrounded by the din of war. The times
were against him, and he was obliged to yield to the
decrees of fate. Instead of being the honoured
adviser of a virtuous sovereign striving to reproduce
the heroic age of Yaou and Shun among a contented
and law-abiding people, he spent the greater part of
his life in offering his services to princes who dis-
dained his overtures and laughed at his theories.
It was a time of universal disorder and anarchy.
“Right principles had long deserted the empire,”
and power had become the only standard of truth and
virtue.

No wonder, then, that Confucius’s career was a
failure. He was not a man who could shamelessly
trim his sails to the passing breeze, and for him to
fail was to enter his protest against the iniquities of
the time. But what was lost to his contemporaries
has been preserved for posterity. To the succeeding
millions of China it has been a matter of unimportance
that he was excluded from the council-chambers ot
princes, so long as they have had access to the words
of wisdom with which he instructed his disciples, and
thus they have cared not for the contempt with which
he was treated by lawless chiefs, so long as they have
been able to make his views on the principles of
government, and on the duties of citizens their own.

Probably no man has been so contemned during
his lifetime, and at the same time so worshipped by
posterity, as Confucius. In both extremes there has

THE TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. 67

been some exaggeration. His standard of morality
was high, and his doctrines were pure. Had he there-
fore ’had' an opportunity of exercising authority, it
can but have resulted in good to an age when the
notions of right and wrong were strangely confused,
and when both public and private morality were at
the lowest ebb. On the other hand, it is diflicult to
understand the secret of the extraordinary influence
he has gained over posterity, and the more the problem
is studied the more incomprehensible does it become.
His system of philosophy is by no means complete,
and it lacks life, if we may venture to say so in face
of the fact that it has supplied the guiding principles
which have actuated the performance of all that is
great and noble in the life of China for more than
twenty centuries.

The Confucian literature as it stands at the present
day is very large ; but if we separate out of the mass
those canonical works which, according to universal
belief, contain the complete system of Confucius, we
shall hold in our hands only three thin volumes. The
first is the Lzm Yu, or “Confucian Analects,” in which
have been collected by the disciples the sayings of
their great master. The other two are the Ta £165,
or “Great Learning,” and the C/zng Yzmg, or “ Doc-
trine of the Mean,” both of which have been very
generally attributed to Tsze-sze, the grandson of
Confucius, and both of which contain digests of the
doctrines of the Sage. But Confucius was less of an
original thinker than a “transmitter,” as he calls him-
self, and therefore it becomes necessary to see what
the older canonical works, such as the Yz’lc King, or

F 2

68 CONFUCIANISM.

“Book of Changes,” the Size King, or “Book of
Odes,” and the $7100 King, or “Book of History,”
say with regard to the subjects of which he treats.
In so doing we shall see that Confucius did not
transmit faithfully the doctrines of the ancient sages,
but, being unable to understand the spiritual side of
the characters of those for whom he professed such
unbounded admiration, loxvered their teachings to the
inferior level which he occupied.

‘ There is nothing spiritual in the teachings of Con-
fucius. He rather avoided all references to the super-
natural. In answer to a question about death, he
answered, “While you do not know life, how do you
know about death?” Life, then, was his study, and
life as represented by man as he exists. The ques-
tions whence man" came and whither he is going
never troubled him; he simply looked on man as
a member of a society, and strove to work out for
himself by the light of ancient records how he might
best contribute to his own happiness, and to that of
the world in general.

Man, he taught, is master of his own destiny, and
not only so, but he is the equal of heaven and earth,
and as such is able to influence the course of nature.
By complete sincerity he is able to give its full deve-
lopment to his nature. Having done this, he is able
to do the same to the nature of other men. Having
given its full development to the nature of other men,
he can give their full development to the natures of
animals and things. Having given their full develop-
ment to the natures of animals and things, he can
assist the transforming and nourishing poW‘érs‘ of

THE IDEAL MAN. 69

heaven and earth. Having assisted the transforming
and nourishing powers of heaven and earth, he may
with heaven and earth form a trinity.1 Then he
becomes the equal of heaven and earth ,2 and when
this stage is reached, universalorder will prevail,.and
all things are nourished and perfected.3

Such is the position which the ideal man occupies
in the universe. And the ideal man is endowed by
Heaven with an ideal nature. All men are born
good, and all are alike possessed of heaven-sent
qualities which enable them to acquire the ideal
nature. That which a man inherits is goodness, and
when that is perfected, it becomes his nature.4 As a
native commentator remarks, the goodness bestowed
by Heaven is like flowing water, which, when a man
has perfected himself, is crystallized and becomes his
nature. “ The great God,” said T’ang, “ has conferred
even on the inferior people a moral sense, by obeying
which they attain a constant nature.”5 Or, in other
words, Heaven, in giving birth to all people, affixed
to everything a corresponding law,6 which it is the
duty of men to watch, listen to, understand and
obey. When men do so, ministers and oflicials will
be patriotic, the relations between fathers and sons
will be perfected, and the people will maintain a con-
stant nature, by obedience to which their afl‘ections
will be set on benevolence, righteousness, patriotism,
and filial piety. When once the ideal nature is ac-
quired, it is like water of which the fount is perfectly

' Chung yung, xxii. 9 Chung yung, xxvi. 5.
3 Chung yung, i. 5. ‘ Yih king.
5 Shoo king, T’ang kaou. . 5 She king, Ta ya, Ching min.

7o CONFUCIANISM.

clear and without impurities. It undergoes no change,
but if it ever should be changed, it cannot be restored
to its primitive state. It is the guiding principle of
the heart, and finds its development in the affections
and desires. And just as the nature of gold is hard-
ness and the nature of fire is heat, so the nature of
man is benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom,
and faithfulness. There may however be an evil na-
ture, for when King T’ai kea was not able to change
his courses, E Yin, his minister, said to himself, “This
is unrighteousness and is becoming by practice his
nature.”1 This use of the word Sing, Nature, in this
passage is however explained away by the commen-
tators, who hold that it means habit, and not nature.
These definitions of man’s nature were endorsed
by Confucius, who was especially loud in his com-
mendations of that quoted above from the She king.
Tsze-kung says, however, that the “master’s . . . words
about man’s nature and the way of heaven cannot be
heard 3” but this statement is probably due either to
the fact that he did not understand what Confucius
did say on the subject, or because he was, as the dis-
ciples generally were, anxious to eliminate from the
teachings of the Master all that they considered to be
beyond the intellectual or moral comprehension of
the people. Confucius was not a speculative thinker,
and therefore we do not find him dwelling to the
same length on such speculations as Mencius and some
of the late philosophers, but he said quite enough to
show that he was in entire harmony on the subject

‘. Shoo king, T’sai kea.

THE TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. 71

with the ancient sages.1 The natures of all men he
taught are nearly alike, that is to say, the conditions
of their endowment are not dissimilar, but by practice
they get to be wide apart. He reiterated also the or-
thodox belief that man’s nature is good, and that its
inherent goodness is displayed by its affection for the
four decorous principles, 21-6., humanity, rectitude,
propriety, and knowledge. According to-- him, also,
man’s nature has an honourable place compared with
those of heaven and earth, and is more; honourable
than that of things. For all things are endowed with
distinctive natures, which, however, differ from man’s
nature in that they are incapable of being cultivated
or taught.

The goodness which is inherited from Heaven does
not, unfortunately, always remain untainted, but is like
running water which knows no stagnation, and is al-
ways flowing onward to, the sea. Some streams be-
come defiled before they have run far, and others
after long courses get defiled, some more some less.
But that which cannotbe defiled is not water. And -
so it is with men’s natures : they nearly all leave the
' fountain pure, but become contaminated, some more
some less, and some earlier than others, but they are
all liable to contamination.

Thi‘f‘i—t‘rW—M‘ the' great 'mass of mankind, but
there are two classes, the wise of the highest and the
stupid of the lowest, who know no change. The
gradations from the highest to the lowest class are
explained by Confucius to be, “Those who are born

‘ Lun yu xvii. 3.

7 2 CONFUCIANISM.

with the possession of knowledge are the highest
class of men. Those who learn, and so readily get
possession of knowledge, are the next. Those who
are dull and stupid, and yet succeed in learning, are
another class next to these. While those who are
dull and stupid and yet do not learn, are the lowest of
the people.”1

It is among members of the highest class, or Sages,
that Nature reaches its highest development. The
Sage is born in possession of knowledge and of per-
fect purity. He obeys without effort the promptings
of his nature, and thus maintains a perfect uprightness
and pursues the heavenly way without the slightest
deflection. He alone, possessing all 'the sage-like.
qualities, shows himself quick in apprehension, clear
in discernment, of far-reaching intelligence and all-
embracing knowledge, fitted to exercise rule ; magna-
nimous, generous, benign, and mild, fitted to exercise
forbearance ,- impulsive, energetic, firm and enduring,
fitted to maintain a firm hold ,- self-adjusted, grave,
never swerving from the mean, and correct, fitted to
command reverence; accomplished, distinctive, con-
centrative, and searching, fitted to exercise discrimina-
tion. All-embracing is he and vast, deep and active
as a fountain, sending forth in their due seasons his
virtues. All-embracing and vast 3 he is like heaven.
Deep and active as a fountain, he is like the abyss.
He is seen, and the people all reverence him 5 he
speaks, and the people all believe him ; he acts, and
the people are all pleased with him. Therefore his

‘ Lun yu, xvi. 9.

THE SAGE. 7 3

fame overspreads the Middle Kingdom, and extends
to all barbarous tribes. Wherever ships and carriages
reach 3 wherever the strength of man penetrates 3
wherever the heavens overshadow and the earth sus-
tains 3 wherever the sun and moon shine 3 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.” 1

This view as held by Confucius is precisely that set
forth in the earlier classics, where we are told that just
as water flows in moist hollows, and ”fire approaches
dry places 3 the clouds follow the dragon, and the
winds the tiger, so when the Sage acts, the myriads ‘of
things observe him.2 His virtues equal those of
heaven and earth, his brightness is like that. of. the
sun and moon 3 his regularity is comparable to that
of the four seasons 3 and his good and ill-fortune to
those of spirits and demons. When he takes the
lead of Heaven, Heaven does not rebel, and when he
follows Heaven, he observes Heaven’s seasons. If
Heaven does not rebel against him, much less should
men, or spirits, or demons. It is the Sage alone who
understands how to advance and to recede, to pre-
serve and to destroy without losing his perfect cor-
rectness.3

He loves to walk on the heavenly way, and is as
steadfast as the way itself 3 and just as the sun and
moon draw their splendour from heaven and shine
everlastingly, so nature catches the reflected wisdom
of the Sage and is changed in accordance with his

' Chung Yung, xxx. I. 3 Id 2 Yih king. K’een kwa.
em.

74 CONFUCIANISM.

likeness.1 The Sage is thus perfectly virtuous, for he
is born without any disposition towards evil, he is
adorned with all the accomplishments, and he is infi-
nitely wise.g His words are like water, which the
more you measure it the deeper it seems, and the
more you search for it the further off it appears to be.
Again they are like fire, the more you stir it the brighter
it becomes, and the more you leave it alone the
greater becomes its strength. He gains knowledge
Without travelling, he describes things without seeing
them, and he achieves his purpose without action.
His lessons are taught rather by example than by
words. He does nothing and the people are straight-
way transformed ; he has no lusts and the people be-
come spontaneously simple-minded. He delights in
practising humility, and because he humbles himself
he is exalted, because he avoids display he shines,
and because he puts himself last he is first.3

It is said, however, that there are circumstances
under which Sages may fall from their high estate 3 for
we are told in the Shoo king that “the Sages of the
Shang dynasty by not taking thought became foolish,
and the foolish by thinking became sages.”4 The
apparent inconsistency in this statement is to be ex-
plained by supposing that the process in each case
was gradual and extended through many generations.
Thus we see that the descendants of the Sage T’ang,
who was appointed by Shang-te to be a model to the
“ nine regions,” 5 gradually fell away until the depth of

' Y‘i’h king. Hang kwo. 9 Shoo king. Ta yu mow.
3 Laou-tsze. ‘ Shoo king, To fang.
5 She king. Shang sung Chang {5.

DESTINY. 7 5

folly and vice was reached in the person of Show,
the last of the dynasty ; and in the same way we may
suppose that Woo Wang’s wisdom was the inherited
completion of a progressive course of virtue extend-
ing over ages.

The qualifications of a Sage being of such surpass-
ing excellence, it is plain that the honour of fellowship
with so distinguished a band can be claimed for only
a few. Those officially recognized as being holy men
or Sages are :—Fuh-he (2852-2737 BC.) ; Shin-nung
(2737-2697); Hwang-te (2697-2597); Yaou (2356-
2255); Shun (2255-2205); Yu (2205-2197); T’ang
(1766-1753); Eyin (ab. 1709) ; Pihe (ab. 1200); Win
Wang (ab. 1200); Woo Wang (1122-1078); Chow
kung (1105); Lew Hea-hwuy (ab. 1600); and Con-
fucius.

All these possessed the spotless and sinless nature
which—is the gift ,of Heaven, and which corresponds
with man’s destiny.

For destiny is that which, together with the principles
of benevolence, righteousness, propriety and faith, is
bestowed on every man by Heaven. When these
principles find their developments in thought and
action, theybecome the ideal nature. After having been
metamorphosed by the male and female principles of
nature, the destiny is sent forth as life. The completion
of the (appointed) transformation and the exhaustion
of the (fixed) numbers is death. Therefore destiny
is the beginning of nature, and death is the end of
life. 1 But life is nature, and therefore destiny is called

1 Kea yu.

76 CONFUCIANISM.

the giver and ender of life. In this sense Confucius
speaks of his disciple Yen kuy. “There was Yen
kuy; he loved to learn. He did not transfer his
anger ; he did not repeat a fault. Unfortunately his
destiny was short and he died 3 and now there is not
such another.” 1 In some instances it appears simply
as the equivalent of life, as when Confucius said,
“The man who in the view of gain thinks of
righteousness 3 who in the view of danger is prepared
to give up his destiny; and who does not forget an
old agreement however far back it extends 3—such a
man may be reckoned a complete man.” The gift of
destiny to all men launches them in existence with
equal advantages, but the cares and temptations of
the world affecting them in different ways soon pro-
duce variety. It is only a superior man who can ar-
rive at the knowledge of his own destiny ; but having
done so, he can arrive at the knowledge of the destiny
of men and things. For things have destinies as
well as men, but, unlike men, they are unable to con-
trol their destinies. “If my principles,” said Con-
fucius, “are to advance, it is their destiny. If they
are to fall to the ground, it is their destiny.” 2
Sometimes destiny is used as meaning only com-
mand or appointment. As when we are told that
Woo Wang received his destiny to the throne in his
old age.3 But destiny in its true sense is to Heaven
what nature is to man. That which Heaven gives is
destiny, and that which man receives is nature. Na-
ture, seen in the affairs of life and in things, is right

’ Lun yu, vi. 2. 2 Lun yu, xiv. 38.
3 Chung yung, xviii. 3.

HEAVEN. 7 7

principle. Only the man who has exhausted right
principles and given full development to nature, can
understand the deep and unintermitting destinies of
Heaven. It was to this pitch that Confucius says he
arrived when he was fifty years of age.

The same Heaven who is the bestower of destiny
is also the creator of all things. By its power all
creation grows and flourishes, and under its influence
human beings and things arrive at perfection. It is
the subtle, ethereal fire which dwells in the highest
heaven,1 and yet humbles itself to behold the things
which are upon earth. With perfect impartiality and
infinite spiritual wisdom it watches over the happiness
and the sufferings of the people, and the excellences
and wrongs of kings and governors. Nothing passes
unheard or unseen by it, though it neither hearkens
nor looks. No darkness conceals from its view, and
no privacy hides from its knowledge.‘2 By Heaven
the virtuous are rewarded and the guilty are punished.
Kings rule by its sufferance, and are deposed by its
decree. “Moved with indignation at the crime of
King Show, Great Heaven,” we are told in the Shoo-
king, “charged King Wi’tn to display its majesty,
and to destroy the tyrant.” Out of love for the
people Heaven appoints rulers to protect and instruct
them, that they may assist Shang-te in securing the
tranquillity of the four quarters of the world. Heaven
is unpitying, as when it sent down ruin on Yin, and
brought to nought the dynasty of Hea. 3 Its favour

' Yih king. K’een kwa. 2 Shoo king. Shoo ming.
3 Shoo king.

7 8 CONFUCIANISM.

is not easily preserved, neither is it to be trusted.
Only by carefully following the heavenly way can its
smiles be propitiated, and only by a sedulous per-
formance of the five duties, and the ceremonies
attaching to the social distinctions, which it has itself
ordained, can its goodwill be secured. For those,
however, who thus obey the dictates of their destiny
and develop the ideal human nature, which is the
heritage of all, Heaven has in store long life and
riches and honour.

But man is in one sense independent of Heaven,
and the Sage is, as we have seen, the equal of Heaven.
It has laid down certain laws which, if any man obey,
he may claim as a right all the blessings which
Heaven has to give. Prayer is unnecessary, because
Heaven does not actively interfere with the soul of
man. It has endowed him at his birth with goodness,
which may, if he will, become his nature, and his true
destiny may thus be realized. But all this is to be
accomplished by his own efforts. In common with all
created things, he forms part of Heaven, and by fulfill-
ing his destiny he is able to assist the transforming
and nourishing powers of Heaven and earth. 1 Even
the length of his days is in his own hands, for it is
not Heaven that' cuts man’s life‘short, but by the
results of his own conduct it is brought to an end.

Some few passages in the Confucian Analects and
elsewhere seem to invest Heaven with more of the
character of a personal god; as, for example, when
the warden at E said to the disciples, “Heaven is

‘ Chung yung, xxii.

SPIRITS AND DEMoKs. 79

going to use your master as an alarm-bell ; or again
when Confucius said, “While Heaven does not let
the cause of truth perish, what can the people of
K’wang do to me?” But the preponderating evi-
dence goes to show that Heaven is but—the equivalent
of Providence, Which—orders—biltdoes not direct.
Dividing with Heaven the worship of men, and
holding an intermediate position between the two,
stand spirits and demons. History does not reach
back to a time when these spirits of the air were not
worshipped. Fuh-he, we are told, sacrificed to them,
and the “Book of History” contains numberless
references to them. The Size-lee, or Historical Re-
cord, says that in the beginning the spirits were the
associates of men, and when Chow-kung intercedes
for the life of his brother King Woo, he addresses
himself to the spirits of his father, grandfather, and
great-grandfather, and advances as a reason why his
life should be taken rather than that of the king, that
he possesses the qualities which fit him more espe-
cially to wait on the spirits. This deification of
deceased men was accepted as a common belief.
Confucius, we are told, sacrificed to the dead as
though they were present, and to the spirits as though
they were before him. 1 But to sacrifice to the spirit
of a stranger he looked upon as flattery}! The spirits,
then, are interested only in those things which con-
cern the welfare of their descendants on earth, and
thus, while in the case of private individuals the
spirits watch over their family affairs, the souls of

‘ Lun yu, iii. 12. 9 Lun yu, ii. 24.

5

80 CONFUCIANISM.

departed emperors are consulted in all matters relat-
ing to the duties of government devolving on their
imperial representative. In the Shoo king we are
told that the Emperor Shun, in announcing an im-
portant decision, said, “I consulted and deliberated
with all my ministers and people. The spirits signi-
fied their assent, the tortoise and the grass (instru-
ments of divination) having both concurred.”

All national events of importance are to this day
announced by the emperor to the spirits. Dr. Legge,
in his paper on “Confucianism in Relation to Chris-
tianity,” quotes a prayer addressed to the spirits by
an emperor of the Ming dynasty (1538 A.D.), when
about to make a slight change in the title by which
Shang-te was addressed : “ Beforehand we inform you,
all ye celestial and all ye terrestrial spirits,” he prayed,
“and will trouble you on our behalf, to exert your
spiritual influences, and display your vigorous efiicacy
communicating our poor desire to Shang-te, and
praying him mercifully to grant us his acceptance and
regard, and to be pleased with the title which we shall
reverently present.”

This prayer was addressed not only to the ances-
tral spirits, but to those of heaven and‘ea‘rth, of hills
and rivers, and of land and grain, all of which require
that offerings should be made to them. But they by
no means accept sacrifice indiscriminately. Entire
sincerity is required of them who approach the altar,
and only the sacrifices of those who fulfil this condi-
tion are accepted by them.1 “Of old,” we are told

' Shoo king.

SPIRITS AND DEMONS. 8 I

in the Shoo king, “ the earlier sovereign of the Hea
dynasty cultivated earnestly their virtue, and then
there were no calamities from Heaven. The Spirits
of the hills and rivers were likewise all in tran-
quillity.” To arrive at this state of harmony with
the Spirits should be the object of every one, for it is
only by so doing that the good-will of Heaven can be
obtained. “The King of Hea,” says the Shoo king,
“could not maintain the virtue of his predecessors
unchanged, but contemned the Spirits and oppressed
the people. Wherefore Heaven no longer extended
its protecticn to him; but looked out among the
myriad regions to give its guidance to one who might
receive its favour, fondly seekmg a possessor of pure
virtue, whom it might make lord over all the Spirits.”

On the subject of spirits, as on all matters relating
to heavenly beings, Confucius was reticent. His mind
was wrapt up in the things of this earth, and he looked
upon all such subjects as obscure and unprofitable.
That they were worthy of reverence he was ready to
affirm, but lie__con§idered that constant reference to
them WES—may to lead to superstition. ' “ Spirits are
to bgrespected,” he said, “ but to be kept at a dis-
t/atgfifian‘d‘in'rfily to a question put to-him as
to serving the Spirits, he answered, “While you
are not able to serve men, how can you serve their
spirits?” But though he was opposed to supersti-
tious meddling with spirits, he was yet fully conscious
of their constant presence. “How abundant,” he
said, “is the capacity of spiritual beings. We
look for them, but do not see them; we listen
for them, but do not hear them: yet they enter

G

82 .. CONFUCIANISM.

into all things, and there is nothing without them.
They cause the people of the empire to fast and
purify themselves, and to array themselves in their
richest dresses in order to attend at their sacri-
fices. Then, like overflowing water, they seem to be
over the heads and on the right and left of their
worshippers.”

The worship of spirits, however, takes the shape
rather of respectful recognition of their existence than
of devotional address to a godhead. They have no
power of themselves to influence the fates of men, and
even in some cases men are placed as lords over them,
but reverence or want of reverence to them is rewarded
or punished by Heaven. Sometimes, however, as in the
prayer quoted above, they act as intercessors between
man and Shang—te, and in this way occupy a parallel
position to the saints of the Roman calendar.

But the highest object of worship among the ancient
Chinese was Shang— te, who approached nearer to the
idea of the Hebrew God than any of their divifiities.
Heaven was high and great, but Shang—te ruleCLlfitlL
heaven and earth. It was by his favour that sove-
reigns ruled and nations prospered, and it was at his
decree that thrones were upset and kingdoms were
brought to nought. As an earthly sovereign rules
over a kingdom, so Shang-te lords it over the azure
heaven 11

The worship of Shang-te is the most ancient, as
well as the most sacred form of Chinese worship.
During the reign of Hwang-te (2697 no) a temple

1 Kin koo t’oo shoo tseih ch’ing. Shin e teen.

SHANG-TE. 8 3‘

was erected to his honour, and a century later music
was added to the rites performed at his altar. When
the sovereign worshipped before him, he wore a fur
dress and a crown, and offered up on a round hillock
a first-born male as a whole burnt sacrifice.1 It was
to him that prayer was made in all great emergencies,
and in the eyes of the Emperor and pe0ple he ap-
peared as a personal God, directing their ways, sup-
porting them in their difficulties, and chastising them
for their faults. When T’ang the founder of the
Shang dynasty (1766 8.0), overthrew the iniquitous
Keé, the last ruler of the Hea dynasty, he defended
himself from the charge of rebellion by making a
proclamation, in which he said, “The sovereign of
Hea was an offender, and as I fear Shang-te I dare
not but punish him.” Again speaking to his people
he said, “ The good in you I will not dare to conceal,
and for the evil in me I will not dare to forgive myself;
I will examine these things in harmony with the mind
of Shang-te.” 9 T’ang’s belief in the personal interference
of Shang-te in the affairs of man is plainly stated when
he says, “ The ways of Shang-te are not invariable ;
he showers down blessings on the good, and pours
down miseries on the evil.” 3

But as time went on the distinctive belief—irrthe
personality ofSfifigifé‘became obscured, and he was
degradéd from his supremacy to the “level of the im-
personalfieayen. In fact, later commentators affirm
that Shang-te is Heaven, Azure Heaven, the Greatest
Deity in the Purple Obscure Palace, the most honoured

‘ Chow 1e. 2 Shoo king. 3 Ditto.
G 2

84 CONFUCIANISM.

one of Heaven,—all of which titles give but a very
imperfect idea of the position he held in the sight
of Yaou and of Shun and of the ancient Sages.

Unfortunately on this point also Confucius departed
from the higher faith of his ancestors, and by sanc-
tioning the worship of spirits, and omitting all mention
of Shang—te, he reduced that deity to his position of
one among the host of heaven. Once only does he
speak of Shang-te, and then it was only to state the
fact that “by the ceremonies of the sacrifices to
heaven and earth the kings Win and Woo served
Shang—te, and by the ceremonies of the ancestral
temple they sacrificed to their ancestors.” This re-
mark shows that Confucius perceived that the various
religious rites practised by the ancients had for their
object the worship of the one God, but he allowed
this knowledge to remain sterile. He deduced nothing
from it either to spiritualize his teachings or to elevate
his practice. The example of the earthly course run
by the ancient Sages was sufficient in his own case to
lead him into the same paths of virtue, and he com-
mitted the mistake of supposing that the same cause
would produce a like effect in all men.

Starting with the belief that all men are born equally
good, there is more excuse for the adopting of such
a doctrine by Confucius than can be advanced for
many later philosophers who have practically held the
same view. But even he admitted that the temptations
of the world and the flesh were apt to sully_the
original purity of man, and his experiences-att—he
different courts he visited should have taught him
that headlong passions, vicious habits, and weak wills,

SHANG-TE. 85

need some stronger corrective than the contempla-
tion of the virtue of Yaou and the purity of Shun.
In spite, however, of the silence of Confucius on
the subject of Shang-te, his worship has been main-
tained, not perhaps in its original purity, but with
marks of reverence which place its object on the
highest pinacle of the Chinese Pantheon. At the
present day the Imperial worship of Shang-te on the
round hillock to the south of the city of Peking is
surrounded with all the solemnity of which such
an occasion is capable. “The altar is a beautiful
marble structure, ascended by 27 steps, and orna-
mented by circular balustrades on each of its three
terraces. On it is raised a magnificent triple-roofed
circular structure, 99 feet in height, which constitutes
the most conspicuous object in the tout ensemble. . .
These structures are deeply enshrined in a thick
cypress grove—reminding the visitor of the custom
which formerly prevailed among the heathen nations
of the Old Testament, and of the solemn shade which
surrounded some celebrated temples of ancient Greece.
On the day before the sacrifices the Emperor proceeds
to the Hall of Fasting, on the west side of the south
altar. Here he spends the night in watching and
meditation, after first inspecting the offerings. The
tablets to the Supreme Ruler of Heaven (zle. Shang-te),
and to the Emperor’s ancestors, are preserved in the
chapel at the back of each altar. There are no
images. Both these chapels are circular, and tiled
with blue glazed porcelain . . . The south altar, the
most important of all Chinese religious structures,
has the following dimensions. It consists of a triple

86 . CONFUCIANISM.

circular terrace, 210 ft. wide at the base, 150 in the
middle, and 90 at the top. In these notice the
multiplesof three: 3 x 3 = 9, 3 x 5 = 15, 3 x 7
= 21. The heights of the three terraces, upper,
middle, and lower, are 5°72 feet, 6'23 feet, and 5 feet
respectively. At the time of sacrificing, the tablets to
Heaven and to the Emperor’s ancestors are placed
on the top; they are 2 feet 5 inches long and 5
inches wide. The title is in gilt letters; that of
Heaven faces the south, and those of the ancestors
east and west. The Emperor, with his immediate
suite, kneels in front of the tablet to Shang-te, and
faces the north. The platform is laid with marble
stones, forming nine concentric circles; the inner
circle consists of nine stones, cut so as to fit with
close edges round the central stone, which is a per-
fect circle. Here the Emperor kneels, and is sur-
rounded first by the circles of the terraces and their
enclosing walls, and then by the circle of the horizon.
He thus seems to himself and his court to be in the
centre of the universe, and, turning to the north,
assuming the attitude of a subject, he acknowledges
in prayer and by his position that he is inferior to
Heaven, and to Heaven alone. Round him on the
pavement are the nine circles of as many heavens,
consisting of nine stones, then eighteen, then twenty-
seven, and so on in successive multiples of nine till
the square of nine, the favourite number of Chinese
philosophy, is reached in the outermost circle of
eighty-one stones. . . . As might be expected,
careful distinctions are made in the sacrifices. The
animals ordinarily used for food by the ancient

THE SUPERIOR MAN. 87

Chinese, and the fruits of the earth known to them,
are almost all included. But productions recently
introduced into the country are not offered. To
Heaven alone is offered a piece of blue jade, cylin-
drical in shape and a foot long, formerly used as a
symbol of sovereignty. But the great distinguishing
sign of superiority is the offering of a whole burnt
sacrifice to Heaven.”1

I Next to the Sage in the scale of Confucian
‘humanity is the superior man, but unlike the Sage ‘_
his distinctive characteristics were unrecognized un-
til pointed out by Confucius. From the dawn of
history we hear of Sages, but such a being as the
superior man, as portrayed in the Four Books, finds
no place in the Shoo king. Twice~ only does the
expression occur as pointing to a separate order.
Once we are told that “ When a prince treats supe-
rior men with familiarity, he cannot get them to give
him all their hearts.”2 And again, “The superior
man will have no luxurious ease.”3 .But it was left
to Confucius to develop the superior man who forms
a leading feature in the Confucian philosophy. The
Sagngas incapable of evil. Born with a perfectly
pure nmbut to follow the dictates of his
will to walk in thepaths of virtue. No temptations
to evil assailed him, and no allurements led him
aside. But the superior; man was not so 3 he was
subject to faults and failings which, though they were
as transient as the eclipses of the sun and moon,

‘ Peking, by the Rev. J. Edkins. 9 Shoo-king, Leu-gaou.
3 Shoo-king. Woo-yih.

88 CONFUCIANISM.

were yet equally observable by all men.1 He was en-
dowed with no special grace by nature, but by care-
fully perfecting the good originally implanted in him,
his “way became identical with that of Heaven and
earth and of all things,”2 and he arrived at the dig-
nity of a superior man.

Nine things he strove after: in seeing to see clearly,
in hearing to hear distinctly, in expression to be be-
nign, in his demeanour to be decorous, in speaking
to be sincere, in his duties to be respectful, in doubt
to inquire, in resentment to think of difficulties, When”
he saw an opportunity for gain to think of righteous-I-
ness.3 Three things he avoided: in youth, when the
physical powers are not settled, he avoided lust 3 in
manhood, when the physical powers are in full
vigour, he avoided quarrelsomeness; in old age,
when the animal powers are decayed, he avoided
covetousness.”t

The superior man- was righteous in all his ways;
his acts were guided by” the laws of prepriety, and
were marked by strict sincerity.5 Being without
reproach, he was also without fear, and having studied
deeply, his mind was untroubled by doubt or mis-
giving. Nothing put him out of countenance, for
wisdom, humanity, and valour were his constant
companions. Of the ordinances of Heaven, of great
men, and of the words of Sages, he alone stood in
respectful awe, and this not out of servility, but
because he possessed suflicient knowledge to com-

‘ Lun yu, xix. 20. 3 Chung yung, xii. 4.
3 Lun yu, xvi. IO. 4 Ibid. xvi. 7.
5 Ibid. xv. I7.

THE SUPERIOR MAN. 89

prehend the wisdom embodied in those powers.
Mere eloquence had no effect upon him, and he was
careless about the animal comforts of this life. He
laughed at want, for his aims were directed towards
“the heavenly way,” not towards eating; and for
the same reason wealth and poverty were not
causes of anxiety to him. He loved to associate
with those among his equals who were students and
scholars, and sought to perfect his virtue by converse
with his friends. He never hesitated to improve his
knowledge by inquiry 3 he studied the past and was
acquainted with the present. He was exacting only
of himself, and was distressed by his want of ability.
The neglect of his contemporaries did not affect
him, but the thought that he had so failed in virtue
as not to leave a name behind him troubled him

greatly.
Confucius even admitted that he had failed to
reach the level of the superior man. “ In the way

of the superior man,” he said, “there are four things
to not one of which have I as yet attained :—To
serve my father as I would require my son to serve
me; to serve my elder brother as I would require
my younger brother to serve me; to behave to a
friend as I would require him to behave to me.
Earnest in practising the ordinary virtues, and
careful in speaking about them ; if, in his con-
duct, 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 3 is it

90 CONFUCIANISM.

not complete sincerity which makes the superior
man?”1

The superior man is constantly striving to improve
himself, and thus Confucius compared him to a
traveller who has to traverse every step of the way
which leads him to his destination, or to a moun-
taineer, who, in order to reach the top of the peak,
has to start from the foot. In this way he made
sure and steady progress, and was calm and quiet,
patiently waiting for the appointments of Heaven.
Mean men, on the contrary, love to walk in dan-
gerous paths, and prefer to look for the occurrence
of some lucky event rather than enjoy that happy
confidence which is the portion of those who walk in
the “heavenly way.” If, however, at any time the
feet of the superior man should slip, he acts like
“the archer who, when he misses the centre of the
target, turns round and seeks for the cause of failure
in himself.”

When asked what constituted the superior man,
Confucius said: “He cultivates himself so as to give
rest to the people.” The welfare of the peOple was
the constant care of Confucius and his followers, and
the main object of their philosophy was so to order
themselves as by the force of their example to turn
men from their evil ways and thoughts to the pursuit
of virtue. Then we are. told that a superior man was
humble in his conduct, respectful to his superiors,
kind in nourishing the people, and just in ordering
them. He rarely quarrelled, but when he did, he

‘ Chung yung, xiii.

9
THE SUPERIOR MAN. 91

maintained his character, and his hatred was directed
only against those whose conduct made them worthy
objects of disdain. "Hé" hated those who proclaim
the evils of others. He hated those who, being in a
low station, slander their superiors. He hated those
who possess valour unbalanced by the observance
of propriety. And he hated those who are forward
and determined, and, at the same time, of contracted
understanding.

Such were some of the leading characteristics of
the superior man, and, according .to the teachings of
Confucius, he occupied no unattainable level. The
way to arrive at the position of a superior man was
open to all, and the steps to be trodden were clearly
marked out. What those steps were we will proceed
to describe in the following chapter.

92 CONFUCIANISM.

CHAPTER IV.

THE TRAINING NECESSARY TO BECOME A “SUPERIOR
MAN.”

THE various stages of moral advancement which it is
necessary to go through before the level of the supe-
rior man can be reached are thus laid down in- “ The
Great Learning :”—-“ The ancients . . . WIshing to be
sincere in their thoughts, first extended to the utmost
their knowledge. Such extension of knowledge lay
in the investigation of things. Things being investi-
gated, knowledge became complete. Their know-
ledge being complete, their thoughts were sincere.
Their thoughts being sincere, their hearts were then
rectified. Their hearts being rectified, their persons
were cultivated. Their persons being cultivated, their
families were regulated. Their families being regu-
lated, their states were rightly governed. Their states
being rightly governed, the whole empire was made
tranquil and happy.”

To effect the tranquillity and happiness of the
empire was the main object of the teaching of Con-
fucius, and as this result can only be obtained
through the agency of superior men, except on the
rare occasions when sages appear on the stage, it
follows that they form the centre figures in his

THE COMPLETION OF KNOWLEDGE. 93

philosophy. Their progress is from the near to the
far, and each step must be made sure of before any
further advance may be attempted. A prince, says
the Le ke, who wishes to transform his people
must begin by learning. This is the foundation
upon which the future edifice must be built. There
are no royal roads to the acquisition of the “ heavenly
way.” If a man has sumptuous viands laid before
him and does not eat them, he does not know their
lusciousness; and if a man were to arrive at the
“heavenly way ” without learning, he would not
understand its excellence.1 But a man can no more
arrive at the “ heavenly way” withOut'learning, than
a gem can be turned to some use without being
cut.2

No pursuit can be acquired, and no virtue can
remain untainted, without learning. If a. man does
not learn to {Flay in tune, he cannot harmonize the
chords; if he does not study metaphor, he cannot
write poetry; if he does not study the various colours
of clothes, he cannot conform to the rules of propriety;
if the arts are not flourishing, he cannot take pleasure
in learning.~ Therefore a superior man treasures up
learning, he improves, restsg‘an'dis'satisfied ,3 for to
be fond of learning is to be near to knowledge.“L
Without it benevOlence‘ becomes folly, wisdom vague-
ness, sincerity recklessness, straightforwardness rude-
ness, boldness disorder, and firmness foolishness.5 .

But study must be pursued with discretion, and '-

1 Le ke. ° 3 Ibid. 3 Ibid.
‘ Chung yung, xx. 10. 3 Lun yu, xvii. 8, 3.

94 CONFUCIANISM.

can no more be divorced from thought than thought
can be from it. “Learning without thought,”‘said
Confucius, “is labour lost ; thought without learning“
is perilous.”1 The exercise of independent thought
formed no part in the Confucian system. Complete
wisdom was to be found only among the ancient
sages, and it followed therefore that the truest means
of acquiring the highest knowledge was by contem-
plating the deeds and sayings of those worthies. By
no mental endeavour could any man hope to surpass
or even to equal the supreme wisdom of Yaou and of
Shun, and his surest way of acquiring a trace of the
divine afflatus must be by studying and meditating on
their careers. “I have been the whole day,” said
Confucius, “without eating, and the whole night with-
out sleeping, occupied with thinking. But it was of
no use. The better plan is to learn.” 3

The' supreme object of learning should be truth,
and incidentally self-improvement and the knowledge
of one’s own faults. These are best to be acquired,
according to Confucius, by studying the conduct of
the holy and just men of antiquity, “The Book of
Odes,” “ The Rules of Propriety,” and the “ Book of
Changes.” Of this last he said, as quoted above: “If
some years were added to my life, I would give fifty
to the study of the Book of Changes, and then I
might come to be without great faults.” By study
therefore a man should learn to recognize his faults and
to expose the inequalities in his disposition, and then
to clear the ground for an advance towards virtue.

' Lun yu, ii. I 5. 2 Ibid. xv. 3o.

THE COMPLETION OF KNOWLEDGE. 95

By the pursuit of learning knowledge may be
completed,” and thus a perfect understanding of
the principles of things may be obtained. Such
knowledge must be thoroughfand must be arrived
at by research. It should embrace all subjects,
from the highest to the lowest. Confucius said that
at the age of fifty he knew the destinies of heaven.
Heaven itself is also to be known ; and to know men
waS'Ofie of "tlfe‘ Sage’s' definitionS‘of knowledge, the
want of which is a far greater cause for regret than
being unknown by men. But a man should be quite
certain what he knows and what he does not know.
“Yew, shall I teach you what knowledge is?” said
Confucius. “When you know a thing, to hold that
you know it 3 and when you do not know a thing, to
allow that you do not know it ;——-this is knowledge.”
Thus, as Chwang-tsze put it, a man ought to stand
firm like a chair on four legs, all of which are strong
and of even length 3 but a man who is uncertain or
imperfect in his knowledge, is like a chair which,
having lost a leg, or which stands unevenly on its
feet, is useless as a support.

The study of history is a fruitful source of know-
ledge. Confucius, according to Tze-kung, acquired
his knowledge by the contemplation of the doctrines
and conduct of kings Win and Woo. The regula-
tions of the Hea dynasty may be known, said Con-
fucius, by studying those of the Yin dynasty. The
regulations of the Yin may be known by studying
those of the Chow, and the regulations of the Chow
may be known by studying those of dynasties which
follow after, even at the distance of a hundred ages.

96 CONFUCIANISM.

But something more must be arrived at besides mere
knowledge. “A man’s knowledge,” said Confucius,
“may be sufficient to attain, but if he has __r;gt_ yirtue
”enough to enable him to hold, he will lose whatever
he may have gained. And even if his virtue should
be sufficient to enable him to hold, if he should be
unable to govern with dignity, the people will not
respect him. Again, if his knowledge and virtue
should be sufficient, and he should be able to govern
with dignity, yet if he try to move the people con-
trary to the rules of propriety, full excellence is not
reached.” But true knowledge should enable a man
to distinguish between truth and falsehood, and, to
assimilate all that is good, and to discard all that
is evil, in that which he learns. More than this,
however, is required by him : he must love the truth
as well as know it, and must delight in it as well as
love it. Then he may be said to have completed
himself, and all created things. This is the com-
pletion of knowledge.

By the completion of this true knowledge the
thoughts and intentions of the heart become sincere.
By this is meant, as we are told in “The Great
Learning” (vi. 1), “allowing no self-deception, as
when we hate a bad smell, and as we love what is
beautiful. This is called enjoyment in oneself. There-
fore the superior man must be watchful over himself
when he is alone.” The thoughts or intentions are
such as proceed out of the heart, and he who wishes
to rectify his heart must first make his intentions
sincere, just as a man whose house is entered by
burglars first turns out the thieves, and then looks

SINCERITY OF INTENTION. 97

after the welfare of his family; or as a farmer first
weeds his land before putting in his seed.1

The character “ E,” meaning thought or intention,
differs little in meaning, the commentators tell us,
from “Tsing,” desires, and “Che,” the will. “E”
is rather the incipient form of “Che.” The man
who wishes to be pleased or to be angry exercises
his “E,” but the man who is pleased or angry exer-
cises his “ Che.”2 “Che” is, therefore, the positive
form of “ E,” and it is all-important that it should
be sincere. If a man’s intentions are not settled, he
is like a ship without a compass, or a horse without
a bridle. But the intentions of man are as often
fixed on what is evil as on what is good, and there-
fore they should strive to arrive at the same inten-
tions as those of E Yin, whose delight was in the
Taou of Yaou and Shun,3 or as the Shoo-king (Leu
yaou) puts it, “the intentions should repose in what
is right, and words should be listened to according
to their relation to right.” The wishes and inten-
tions of the heart must be directed only towards that
which is right; and if the will be set on virtue, there
will be no practice of wickedness." Nothing can
lead astray a man whose will is fixed. “The com-
mander of a large state,” said Confucius, “ may be
carried off, but the will of even a common man
cannot be taken from him.”5 He may, however,
yield to temptation and surrender his will, as, ac-
cording to Confucius, did “kuy and Shaou-leen,

1 Kin koo t’oo shoo tseih ch'ing. He?) hing teen.
9 Ibid. 3 Ibid.
4 Lun yu, iv. 4. 5 Ibid. ix. 25.

98 CONFUCIANISM.

who surrendered their will and submitted to taint in'
their persons, but yet their words corresponded with
reason, and their actions are such as men are
anxious to see.”1 But the surest foundation on
which to establish the will is learning. “At fifteen,”
said Confucius, “my mind was bent on learning.
At thirty I stood firm. At forty I had no doubts.
At fifty I knew the decrees of Heaven. At sixty my
ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth.
And at seventy I could follow what my heart desired
without transgressing what was right.”2

The combination of extensive learning and a will
firmly and sincerely set on the paths of duty, will
surely lead a man forward in the course of virtue.
Having completed his knowledge, he is able to arrive
at a distinct appreciation of truth; and having bent
his mind earnestly on the pursuit of truth, he is on
the high way to rectify his heart.

Though not taking so pronounced a view of the
wickedness of the heart of man as the Psalmist,
Confucianists hold that “it is restless and prone to‘
err, and that its affinity for the right way is small.”3
For out of it proceed pleasure, anger, so’rrow,vand
joy, 4 all of which, when not kept under proper con-
trol, are apt to disturb the harmony which should
reign in the mind of the superior man. These evil
passions have been likened by Choo He to the mud
which lies at the bottom of a tub, leaving the water
on the surface clear and bright; but when temptations

’ Lun yu, x-viii. 8. 9 Ibid. ii. 4.
3 Shoo-king, Ta Yu mow. 4 Chung yung, i. 4.

THE RECTIFICATION OF THE HEART. 99

arise which stir them, up then the whole body of
water becomes turbid and impure. Thus we are told
in the Shoo-king that the officers of Yin, in the con-
fidence of their prideful extravagance, extinguished
their sense of righteousness and displayed before
men the beauty of their robes, proud, licentious,
arrogant and boastful: the natural result was that
they should end in being thoroughly bad. And
though their lost hearts have been in a measure
recovered it is difficult to keep them under proper
restraint.1 Or, as it is said in “The Great Learning,”
if a man be under the influence of passion he will
be incorrect in his conduct. He will be the same if
he is under the influence of terror, or under the
influence of fond regard, or under that of sorrow and
distress. When the mind (heart) is not present, we
look and do not see, we hear and do not understand,
we eat and do not know the taste of what we eat. 9
The remedy against these disturbing causes is to
follow out the true line of conduct,3 as pointed out
by knowledge, and the way to which should have
been previously cleared by making sincere the
thoughts and intentions of the heart. But, above
all things, virtue must be true virtue, for then only
will the heart be at ease. The least admixture of
hypocrisy will but add trouble to trouble, and
stupidity to stupidityfl But the man who orders his
affairs with righteousness, and his heart with pro-
priety, will not only be advantaged in this life, but

‘ Shoo-king, Peih ming. 2 Ta heo, vii. 12.
3 Shoo-king, Pwan kang. 4 Shoo-king, Chow kwan.
H 2

IOO CONFUCIANISM.

will transmit a grand example to posterity.1 That
temporal blessings flow from the exercise of virtue is
an article of faith which is found everywhere in the
old Confucian works. The Book of Odes points at
the outward propriety of king Win as the natural
result of his maintaining in his heart a profound
devotion to his duties,2 and the blessings which
accompanied his reign to his having watchfully and
reverently served God with complete intelligence.3
In his case, as in the case of every superior man,
“riches adorned his house and virtue his person.
His heart was expanded and his body was at ease.”4

But the issues of the heart find their expression in
the affections and desires, and it is therefore neces-
sary that these should be set on what is right. A
man who is ripening for a superior man will then
love learning, for out of it come the springs of
knowledge. But, above all things, his heart will be
set on virtue, for with this there is nothing which
can be compared.5 He will love also righteousness,
propriety, and good faith. And if these ends be
pursued in perfect sincerity, and- with a mind free
from the alloy of self-deception or hypocrisy, it may
be said that the heart of such a one is rectified.

The next step in the gradual advance towards
perfection is the cultivation‘of“the‘p‘e‘bei."This is
a grand turning point in the Confucian “way,” and
from it a new departure is taken. Up to this stage

' Shoo-king, Chung hwuy che kaou.
2 She king, Odes of Yung. 3 She king, Ta ya

‘ Ta heo, vi. 4. 5 Lun yu, iv. 6, I.

THE CULTIVATION OF FHE PERSON: I"):

the individual has been busy only with his own im-
provement 5 but_ the cultivation of the person influences
primarily those around him, and ultimately the whole
empire. Every one, therefore, should carefully
cultivate his person, having a due regard for others
besides himself,1 and more especially is this? the case
with a sovereign, who, by cultivating his person with
sincere virtue, brings all his subjects into harmonious
concord with himself."z The cultivation of the
person must begin with introspection. Each "man
must carefully guard his words and watch his conduct.
He must fly all that is base and disquieting, and
must take benevolence as his dwelling-place, right-
eousness as his road, propriety as his garment,
wisdom as his lamp, and faithfulness as his charm.3
Confucius said that dignity, reverence, loyalty, and
faithfulness made up the qualities of a cultivated
man. His dignity separates him from the crowd:
being reverent, he is beloved; being loyal, he is
submitted to ; and being faithful, he is trusted.

But all these qualities naturally find expression in
words and conduct, and it is to the perfecting of
these, therefore, that men must primarily give their
attention. They must be earnest in what they are
doing, and careful in their speech ,4 and, above all;
things, their conduct must agree with their words;
for if their conduct excels their words, wisdom will
not be found in their utterances ; and if their words
excel their conduct, they will commit an irreparable

‘ Shoo-king, Kaou-yaou mow. ‘-’ Shoo-king, T’ae kea.
3 Lew Heang, Shwo yuen. ‘ Lun yu, i. 14.

r 02 coNFUCIANISM.

injury on righteousness.1 Words and conduct,
though the outcome of the individual, spread in
their effects far and wide among the people. They
are the sources of influence to the superior man, and
when manifested, rule over glory and shame? By
his words, said Confucius, the superior man directs
men, and by his conduct he warns them.

But in order that he may do this, his words must
be sincere3 and carefully weighed. He must be
cautious and slow in his speech,L which must always
be to the point, and such as is appropriate to the
occasion. "’ Confucius,” we are told, “in his village,
looked simple and sincere, and as if he were one
who was not able to speak. When he was in the
prince’s ancestral temple, or in the court, he spoke
minutely on every point, but cautiously. When he
was waiting at court, in speaking with the officers of
the lower grade, he spoke freely, but in a straight-
forward manner 5 in speaking with the officers of the
higher grade, he did so blandly, but precisely.”5

Quoting from the Shoo-king, Confucius said:
“Fine words and an insinuating appearance are
seldom associated with’ true virtue.”6 Where virtue
is, there will be corresponding words; but it by no
means follows that virtue is the invariable con-
comitant of plausible speech. Confucius began life,
he tells us, by judging of men’s character by their
words, but afterwards he weighed their words by the

‘ Lew Heang, Shwo yuen. 2 Yih-king, He tsze.
3 Lun yu, i. I4. 4 Ibid. xii. 3, 2.
5 Ibid. x. I. 5 Ibid. i. 3.

THE CULTIVATION OF THE PERSON. 103

light of their conduct.1 But words are not to be
despised, for it is by them that we learn to know
men, and the utterances of the superior man are
examples for all ages.

It is a shame to a superior man when his conduct
is not in accord with his words.‘~’ Complete sincerity
and scrupulous care should characterize both. He
should be forbearing, gentle, and forgiving".3 “Is
there one word,” asked Tsze-kung, “which may serve
.as a rule of practice for all one’s life? The master
said, Is not reciprocity such a word? What you do
not want done to yourself, do not do to others.”
But, practically, Confucius converted this negative
into a positive form when he said: “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 serve my
prince as I would require my minister to serve me 3
to serve my elder brother as I would require my
younger brother to serve me ; and to offer first to
friends what one requires of them.”5

' If the conduct of a man is sincere, it will be but
the outwar‘demTyTsib—l—e—sign of fig—QWWhich is
in. him. ’ Above all things, "it “is-necessary that a
man should possess virtue. It mustube _cu1_ti_v_ated,
cherished, improved, and firmly grasped, for without
it the highest careers must fail, and the proudest
:ruler must be brought low.6 It is powerful enough

‘ Lun yu, v. 9, 2. 3 Le ke.
3 Chung yung, x. 3. 4 Lun yu, xv. 23.
‘5 Chung yung, xiii. 4. 6 Lun yu, xiii. 22.

104 CONFUCIANISM.

to move heaven, and there is no distance to which it
does not reach.1 The report of Shun’s mysterious
virtue, says the Shoo-king, was heard on high, and
he was appointed to occupy the imperial seat. But
virtue is even more powerful than this, for it places
its possessor on a level with the deity, as T ’ang, through
being always zealous in the reverent cultivation of
his virtue, was the fellow of God?

Firmly convinced that the virtue of a sovereign,
like that of Kaou-Yaou, descends upon the people
as rain or dew upon the earth, fertilizing the soil of‘
their hearts by his gracious example, Confucianists
hold that the government of a country is a test of the
virtue of the king.3 Let but his virtue be daily
renewed, and not only the people of the empire but
the subjects of all the neighbouring states will love
him 3 but, on the other band, should he be full of
his own will, he will be abandoned by even the
nine classes of his kindred} Thus the prince who
rules by means of it is like the north polar star,
which keeps its place, and all the stars turn towards
its" The wild tribes on all sides willingly acknow-
ledge their subjection to him,6 and his throne will
be established in wisdom, for he who practises
virtue is not left to stand alone,7 but has always at
his command the services of the wisest men in the
empire.8

Shoo-king, Ta Yu mow. 2 Shoo-king, T’ae kea.
Shoo-king, Ta Yu mow. 4 Shoo-king, Yu kung.

Lun yu, ii. I. 6 Shoo-king, Leu gaou.

Lun yu, 4. 8 Shoo-king, Kaou yaou mow.

VIRTUE. 105

Virtue is the first principle of man’s nature, and
joy is the effulgence of virtue, says the Le ke. But
virtue conforms to no invariable model, and is neces-
sarily limited by the capabilities for good possessed
by each individual.1 Confucius described it as con-
sisting of knowledge, humanity, and valour ,9 and on
another occasion he said, “Hold faithfulness and
sincerity as first principles, and follow after righteous-
ness; this isthe way to exalt virtue.”3 But fortu-
nately for all who desire to seek it, thOugh it is very
lofty, it~ is also very humble. Confucius himself
declared that he dare not rank himself with the Sage
and the man of complete virtue, but the standard
which he set before himself was “the highest point
of virtuous action,” such as actuated T’ae-pih, the
eldest son of King T’ae, who “thrice declined the
empire, and the people in ignorance of his motives
could not express their approbation of his conduct.”
On the other hand, it may be described as doing
one’s duty. In the time in which Confucius lived
virtue was at a low ebb. The practice of it was.
rare, and. love for it was well-nigh extinct,5 except
among those “weak brethren,” “the good careful
people of the villages, who are the thieves of
virtue.”6

But to any one who is really in earnest in his
pursuit of virtue it is not far to seek, and when it is
found it is a treasure of great price. It is better than

‘ Shoo-king, Heen yew yih tih.

2 Chung yung, xx. 8. 3 Lun yu, xii. IO, I.
Ibid. viii. I. 5 Ibid. xv. 12; xvii. I3.
Ibid. xv. 8.

Ciuh

106 ' CONFUCIANISM.

life, and riches and honour are not to be compared
with it. It gives rest to the heart, and places its
possessor above the cares of this life, with its appe-
tites and lusts. It is silent in its operation, and
needs no herald to announce its presence. “The
doings of supreme heaven have neither sound nor
smell. This is perfect virtue.”1 The prominence
given by Confucius to valour as a component part of
virtue is evidence of the position he holds rather as
a politician than as a moral philosopher. His leading
idea was the preservation of the State. To this all
his teachings tend, and those qualities therefore
which might be expected to lead to this end are
naturally estimated by him at a high value. Not
that his idea of valour was confined only to mere
physical courage. On the contrary, he laid great
stress on the moral courage which enables a man to
throw aside his faults and failings, and to declare
plainly in the face of temptations and ridicule that
he is seeking after righteousness. “ To go on the
water and face dragons,” said he, “is the valour of
the fisherman 5 to hunt on land, and not avoid rhino-
ceroses and tigers, is the valour of the huntsman; to
face encounters with deadly weapons, and to regard
death as life, is the valour of the soldier; but to
recognize that poverty comes by the ordinance of
Heaven, and that there is a tide in the affairs of men,
and in the face of difficulty not to fear, is the valour
of the sage.”2 '

The highest kind of valour is that, therefore, which

1 Chung yung, xxxiii. 6. 2 Kung-tsze, Kea yu.

VALOUR. r 07

is accompanied by knowledge; and this kind was
conspicuously displayed by Confucius when he
and his followers were attacked by overwhelming
numbers at Kwang. In reply ’to the expres-
sions of alarm for his safety uttered by his fol-
lowers, she said, “After the death of King Wi’m,
was not the cause of truth lodged in me? If
Heaven had wished to let this cause perish, then
I should not have been placed in this relation
to it. While Heaven does not let the cause of
truth perish, what can the people of Kwang do to
me P”

When the country is at peace, says the Le ke,
valour is utilized in establishing propriety and
righteousness, and when the country is disturbed
it is employed in fighting and overcoming. Thus
valour may and should be used at all times, for if
not employed it induces men to be unruly and
rebellious.1 For valour which is not kept in bounds
by reason ends in disorder and licentiousness ,2 men’s
hearts are then “taken captive by their eyes and
ears.” They seek after action, and fall victims to the
first evil counsellor they meet, or the first gust of
passion which assails them. But the truly brave
man must be righteous and benevolent; he must
.act up to what he believes to be right ,3 and
must be calm in face of adversity. It has been
said that it requires greater courage in a soldier
'to run away in battle than to face the enemy, and
‘Confucius seems to have been of this opinion, for

1 Le ke. 2 Lun yu, xvii. 23. 3 Ibid. ii. 24.

108 CONFUCIANISM.

he says, To possess the feeling of shame is akin to
valour.1

According to Confucius, benevolence is a leading
characteristic of perfect virtue, for it is the root of
righteousness,2 inasmuch as it is the complete virtue
of the original heart. By it all relations of society
are maintained. The superior man, who is the em-
bodiment of benevolence, cherishes the people by
means of it,3 and it finds its highest development in
the attachment of relatives:L But it extends its
humanizing influences beyond the circle of friends,
and outside the relations existing between governors
and those they govern. The whole human race
should be the recipients of it, and as Han Fei-tsze
says, benevolence is to love men out of a sincere heart
gladly, or, as Confucius said, benevolence is to love
all men. The great, enemy with which benevolence
has naturally to contend is selfishness. It is difficult
to be benevolent in the midst of selfish desires, says
the Le ke, but at the same time it may be used as a
lever by which covetousness may be overcome. But
it is plain that true benevolence cannot exist side by
side with selfishness ; for just as matured benignity is
the root, and respectful earnestness is the ground of
benevolence, so is noble-minded generosity the result
of it.5 Self must be conquered before a man can be
truly benevolent. Dignity, said Confucius, is near to-
propriety, moderation to benevolence, and faithful—
ness to love.

‘ Chung yung, xx. 10. 2 Le ke.
3 Yih king. K’een kwa. ‘ Chung yung, xx. 5.

5 Le ke.

BENEVOLENCE. I 09

But benevolence should be exercised with discre-
tion, and should not be only the result of the impulses
of the moment. “If a benevolent man,” asked a
disciple of Confucius, “should be told that there is a
man in the well, I suppose he will go in after him?”
“Why should he ? ” answered the Sage. “ A superior
man may be induced to go to the well, but he cannot
be made to go down into it. He may be imposed
upon, but he cannot be befooled.”1 But though
benevolence is nigh to all who seek after it, there are
instances in which superior men have been lacking in
it; but on the contrary, no mean man was ever
known to possess it.2 But to superior men, as a rule,
its possession is beyond measure valuable. On no
occasion will they act contrary to it. In moments of
haste they cleave to it, and in seasons of danger they
cling to it.3

The opposing front which selfishness shows to
benevolence makes it, however, difficult for the
scholar to practise that virtue. Selfishness is a
heavy weight upon him, and is one from which the
grave alone releases him} But sufficient for their
need is the strength of all who really strive after
benevolence. Unfortunately, selfishness is more
powerful in most men’s minds than benevolence, and
few shake off that which sits so lightly on them for
that which is so difficult to bear. “ Benevolence,”
said Confucius, “is more to man than either water or
fire. And yet, though I have seen men die from
treading on water and fire, I have never seen a man

‘ Lun yu, vi. 24. 2 Ibid. xiv. 7.
3 Ibid. iv. 5, 3. ‘ Ibid. viii. 2.

I IO CONFUCIANISM.

die from treading the course of benevolence.”1 But
some men struggle to attain it, and yet fail in the pur-
suit. Even Confucius declined to rank himself as a
perfectly benevolent man.1

There are, however, various degrees of benevolence.
There is the benevolence of the sage, there is the
benevolence of the wise man, there is the benevolence
of the virtuous man, and there is the benevolence of a
hypocrite. Benevolence enables the sage to know
heaven and to use the seasons, to know earth and to
use its wealth, to know man and to pacify and please
him. But the benevolent hypocrite is only outwardly
moderate and ceremonially clean. When disorder
arises, he is unable to regulate it, and he does nothing
to rectify vice and backslidings. Though he live in
the village lane, he is as if sitting in mire and char—
coal. When ordered to appear at court, he professes
himself ready to go through fire and water. But he
gives employment to none but his own people, and
won’t taste any but his own food. He disturbs the
age, and thinks lightly of death. His brothers he
neglects, and all his schemes turn out ill-omened.
Such is a hypocrite’s benevolence; but, on the other
hand, “if the will be set on (true) benevolence, there
will be no practice of wickedness.”'2

But rightly to understand all that Confucius meant
by benevolence, we must consider the different quali-
ties which he taught were embraced in that virtue.
These were reciprocity, loyalty, reverence, and faith.
The first two being so nearly allied are always treated

I Lun yu, vii. 33. 2 Ibid. iv. 4.

LOYALTY. I I I

together by Chinese philosophers. Reciprocity, they
say, is born of loyalty 3 and, again, loyalty is the root
and reciprocity is the branch ; loyalty is the substance,
reciprocity the shadow.1 In explaining what he meant
by reciprocity, Confucius found it easier to describe
it by showing what is not reciprocity. As when a
sovereign who is incapable of transacting business
expects his ministers to serve him 5 a man who is in-
capable of filial piety expects his son to acknowledge
his indebtedness to him; a brother who is incapable
of respect expects his younger brother to show him
deference. These severally do not display recipro-
city.‘3 To put oneself in the place of another is
reciprocity, and to devote oneself entirely is
loyalty.“

To devote oneself entirely to the performance of
one’s duties, said Confucius, is loyalty, and thus this
virtue enters into every relation of life. There is no
position in which this self-sacrificing devotion ,may not
be displayed, but the term more especially applies to
the higher kinds of devotion, notably patriotism. But
ministers should serve their prince loyally,‘ people
their sovereign,5~and even kings their subjects.6 Men
should loyally discharge their duties to their fellow-
men,7 and friends should loyally admonish one another
in times of difficulty and temptation.8 But there is a
limit to this last display of loyalty. “Loyally ad-
monish your friend, and kindly try to lead him,” said

’ Sing le. 9 Kung-tsze kea yu.
3 Kung-tsze kea yu. 4 Lun yU, iii. I9-
5 Ibid. ii. 20. 5 Chung yung, xx. I4.

7 Lun yu, i. 4. 8 Ibid. xii. 23.

I I 2 CONFUCIANISM.

Confucius. “ If, however, you find him impracticable,
stop. Do not disgrace yourself.” But the great end
of loyalty should be to benefit the object of it. “Can
there be loyalty which does not lead to the instruction
of its object?”1 remarked Confucius; and thus it is
doubly blessed, blessing both him that gives and him
that takes. Though we are told in the A’zmg—z‘sze lam ya
that loyalty is akin to sincerity, it is not always the
sign of perfect virtue. For instance, we find Tsze-
chang asking: “The minister Tsze-wan thrice took
office and manifested no joy in his countenance, and
as often retired from office without showing any dis-
pleasure. He also made it a point to inform the new
minister of the way in which he had conducted the
government. What do you say of him?” The
Master replied, “ He was loyal.” “Was he perfectly
virtuous?” again inquired the disciple. “I do not
know,” said the Sage. “ How can he be pronounced
perfectly virtuous P ”3 But though loyalty may exist
without perfect virtue, perfect virtue cannot exist
without loyalty. Without it patriotism would cease
to exist, and every high and noble deed would be
marred by the obtrusion of self-interest, of which
loyalty is the abnegation.

Much as loyalty is allied to reciprocity,.so_is dignity
akin to reverence. It is the outward display of the
reverence which finds its home in the heart. It is by
reverence that the superior man preserves internal
rectitude, and by righteousness that he maintains an
outward regularity of conduct.3 As we might expect

‘ Lun yu, xiv. 8. 2 Ibid. v. 18.
3 Yih king. K’wan kwa.

REVERENCE. r r 3

to learn from Confucius, reverence finds its highest
employment in paying dutiful respect to one’s parents.
Not the mere perfunctory observance of the ordinary
duties, “ for dogs and horses are able to do something
in this way,”1 but with true reverence, as to the author
of one’s being, to serve and obey them. Next to
parents, all superiors should be the objects of rever-
ence. Ministers should reverently discharge their
duties to their prince, and even the sovereign finds a
superior in heaven to which his attitude should be
reverent. “ Heaven,” says the Shoo-king, “ hears and
sees as our people hear and see; Heaven highly ap-
proves and displays its terrors as our people approve
and would awe—such a connection there is between
the upper and lower worlds. ~ How reverent ought the
master of the earth to be.”2 But he should also
approach his duties as a ruler with reverent solicitude.
“ In my relations to the millions of the people,” said
T’ai-k’ang, “I should feel as much anxiety as if I
were driving six horses with rotten reins. How
reverent ought the ruler of men to be.”3 But this
reverence must be reciprocal, and to a certain extent
conditional. A sovereign may only claim the rever-
ence of his subjects when he rules them with gravity
and propriety, in which case it becomes his due ; but
he forfeits all right to it when he ceases to be a minister
of God for good.

The spirits also are fitting objects of reverence,
though Confucius, with his intuitive dislike of the

‘ Lun yu, ii. 7. '-’ Shoo-king. Kaou-yaou mow.
3 Shoo-king. Woo-tsze che ko.
I

1 I4 CONFUCIANISM.

supernatural, recommended all wise men, while show-
ing them respect, to keep aloof from them.1 And
lastly, reverence is due from man to man. “ Let the
superior man never fail reverently to order his con-
duct, and let him be respectful to others, and obser-
vant of propriety, then all within the four seas will be
his brethren.”

All the qualities mentioned above find their com-
plement in faithfulness. Without it they are nothing
worth, and must degenerate into hollow hypocrisies.
Faithfulness is the foundation of conduct}? and is as
necessary to truly virtuous conduct as a boat is to a
man wishing to cross a river, or as oars are to a boat.
A man may wish to be good, but if he has not estab-
lished his conduct by faithfulness, he is like a man
without a boat, or a boat without oars.3 With such
faithfulness the learned should clothe themselves as
with armour;l “Hold faithfulness and sincerity as
first principles,”5 said Confucius ; and the earnestness
with which he insists on this, repeating the same in-
junction over and over again, is a point in his teach-
ing which is well worthy of admiration. “I do not
know,” said he, “how a man is to get on without
faithfulness. How can a carriage be made to go with-
out the cross-bar for yoking the oxen to, or a small
carriage without the arrangement for yoking the
horses?”6

And if faithfulness is so essential among men

1 Lun yu, vi. 20; xii. 5, 4. '2 Sin lun.
3 Sin Inn. 4 Le ke.
5 Lun yu, ix. 24. 6 Ibid. ii. 22.

FAITHFULNESS. 1 I 5

generally, more especiallyis it so between friends 4111.
between the governed and the governors. The philo-
sopher Tsang said that he examined himself daily to
inquire whether he had been faithful to his friends,1
and even more important is it that rulers should act
faithfully towards their subjects. The word of a.
sovereign must instantly pass as true coin among his
people, or they will cease to reverence him, and will
turn with contempt from his instructions. “ To rule
.a country of a thousand chariots,” said Confucius,
f‘there must be reverent attention to business, and
faithfulness, economy in expenditure, and love for the
people.”

By faithfulness in the above sense, Confucius meant
sincerity, but in one or two passages in Confucian
literature there seems to be a higher meaning attached
to it, which would seem to imply a faith in a superin-
tending providence. “When a man does 'not seek
.after that which he desires,” says the Le-ke, “and
yet obtains it, he exercises faith.” And again Mencius
says: “If a superior man has not faith, how can he
take a firm hold on things?” But these exceptions
.are overborne by the weight of every other reference,
which point conclusively to the propriety of trans—
lating the word 52°72 by faithfulness rather than by
faith.

The man who has developed all these virtues,
and thus has cultivated his person, is considered
competent to rule a family. In the family, Confucius
recognized the concentration of those relations which

‘ Lun yu, i. 4.

I 2

1 I 6 CONFUCIANISM.

exist in the State. The same virtues are required in
the head of the family as in the ruler of a kingdom,
and the same respectful reverence should be paid by
the children to the father as is due from the subjects
to the sovereign. A man, therefore, who can rule a
family can govern a state. As master of a household
he is the representative of Heaven, and the prototype
of sovereigns. “Heaven and earth existing,” says
the Yih king, “all things exist; all things existing,
then male and female exist ; male and female existing,
then the relation of husband and wife exists; from
the existence of man and wife follows the relation of
father and son ; father and son existing, then prince
and minister exist; prince and minister existing, then
upper and lower classes; upper and lower classes
existing, decorum and propriety are interchanged.”1
“It is not possible,” said Confucius in the “Great
Learning,” “for a man to teach others who cannot
teach his own family. Therefore a ruler, without going
beyond his family, completes the lessons for the State.
There is filial piety; therewith the sovereign should
be served. There is fraternal submission, with
which the elders and superiors should be served.
There is kindness, with which the multitude should
be treated. . . . From the loving example of
one family the whole State becomes loving; and from
its courtesies, the whole State becomes courteous;
while, from the ambition and perverseness of one
man, the whole State may be led to rebellious dis-
order—such is the nature of influence.” This verifies

‘ Y ih king. Seu kwa cliuen.

GOVERNMENT OF THE FAMILY. II']

the saying: “Affairs may be ruined by a single sen-
tence; -a kingdom may be settled by one man.
Yaou and Shun led on the people by benevolence,
and the people followed them. Keé and Show led
on the empire with violence, and the people followed
them. The orders which these issued were contrary
to the practice which they loved, and so the peOple
did not obey them. On this account the ruler must
himself be possessed of the good qualities, and then
he may require them in the people. . . . Thus
we see how the government of the State depends on
the regulation of the family.”

In the Book of Poetry it is said: “That peach-
tree, so delicate and elegant! How luxuriant is its
foliage! This girl is going to her husband’s house.
She will rightly order her household.” Let the
household be rightly ordered, and then the people of
the State may be taught. In the Book of Poetry it
is also said: “They can discharge their duties to
their elder brothers. They can discharge their duties
to their younger brothers.” Let the ruler discharge
his duties to his elder and younger brothers, and then
he may teach the people of the State.

Again, in_the Book of Poetry it is written: “In
his deportment there is nothing wrong; he rectifies
all the people of the State.” Yes, when the ruler, as
a father, a son, and a brother is a model, then the

people imitate him.

i We have already considered the excellencies which
should distinguish the superior man, and by the
exercise of which he should rule his household, and
it now therefore only remains for us to review the

1 I 8 CONFUCIANISM.

virtue which should be displayed by his family in
their relation towards him. And the first of all
virtues, whether in a son or in a subject, is filial piety.
It is this which distinguishes man from brutes; it is
this which recognizes the true relation between child
and parent, between father and heaven ; and it is by
the exercise of this, therefore, that the harmony of
the universe is preserved. This idea was not origi-
nated by Confucius, it had obtained a firm hold of'
the national mind many centuries before his time.
“As an example of love,” said E-yin to King Ching,
“it is for you to love your elders ; and as an example
of respect, it is for you to respect your relations.
The commencement is in the family and State; the
consummation is in the empire.”1 Again, King
Ching, addressing his minister, said: “Fung, such
chief criminals (as you have described) are greatly to
be abhorred, but how much more detestable are the
unfilial and unbrotherly. As, for example, the son
who does not reverently discharge his duty to his
father, but greatly wounds his father’s heart, causing
him thereby to hate him; or the younger brother
who is neglectful of the manifest will of Heaven,
and refuses to respect his elder brother, so that his
elder brother does not think of the toil of his parents
in bringing him up, and is unbrotherly to his junior.
If we who are charged with the government do not
treat persons who proceed to such wickedness as
offenders, the laws of our nature bestowed by Heaven
on our people will be thrown into disorder or

‘ Shoo-king. E-heun.

FILIAL PIETY. I I 9

destroyed. You must deal speedily with such per-
sons according to the penal laws of King Wi’in (12th
century B.c.), punishing severely and sparing not.” 1
The King Win here referred to in the course of
an address against the use of spirituous liquors, makes
an exception in favour of those who show filial piety
to their parents. “Ye people of the land of Mei,”
he said, “if you busily employ yourselves in culti-
vating your millet, and hastening about it in the ser-
vice of your fathers and elders, and if with your carts
and oxen you traffic to a distance, that you may be
able filially to supply the wants of your parents 3 then
when your parents are happy, you may set forth
your spirits clear and strong and use them.”
Confucius was then acting the part of a transmitter
when he said : “ F ilial piety and fraternal submission 1‘
are they not the root of all benevolent actions 2’”
But what does filial piety consist in? According
to Confucius it consists in obedience; in serving
one’s parents when alive according to propriety;
in burying them when dead according to propriety;
and in sacrificing to them according to propriety.4
These outlines are filled up in other places with most
minute details as to the conduct of sons, which
should be such as not to cause their parents any
anxiety beyond that arising from their illnesses.5
During the lifetime of his parents a son should not
go abroad; or if he do so, then to a fixed place.
When at home, he should rise with the first cock-

‘ 'Shoo-king. K’ang kaou. 9 Shoo-king. Tsew kaou.
3 Lun yu, i. 2, 2. 4 Ibid. ii. 5, 3.
5 Ibid. ii. 6. '

I 20 CONFUCIANISM.

crow, and having washed and dressed himself care-
fully should inquire what the wishes of his parents
are as to the food they would eat and drink. He
should not enter a room unless invited by his father,
nor retire without permission; neither should he
speak unless spoken to. When leaving the house, he
should report himself, and on returning should make
his presence known. He should be regular in his
amusements, attentive to his calling, constant in
speech, and avoiding all reference to old age.1 This
last is a point strongly insisted upon, and every boy
has held up to him as an example to be followed the
conduct of Laou Lai—tsze, who, fearing that the
recognition by his parents of the fact that he was
seventy years old would remind them of their own
great age, used to dress himself in a child’s frock and
play about the room like an infant !

The highest form of filial piety is then that shown
towards parents, for whom every dutiful son must
entertain the deepest affection. This being so, it
follows naturally that he will wait upon them with
a gladsome countenance and a pleasing manner.
Recognizing that his body is inherited from his
parents, he will love them as part of his own self,
and will shrink as much from doing anything likely
to bring discredit on them, as from anything calcu-
lated to ruin his own good name. “Of all things,”
said Confucius, “which derive their natures from
heaven and earth, man is the'most noble ; and of all
the duties which are incumbent on him, there is none

1 Le ke.

FILIAL PIETY. I 2 I

‘greater than filial obedience 5 nor in performing this
is there anything so essential as to reverence one’s
father; and as a mark of reverence there is nothing
more important than to place him on an equality
with heaven. "Thus did the noble lord of Chow.
Formerly he sacrificed on the round altar to the
spirits of his remote ancestors, as equal with heaven;
and in the open hall he sacrificed to Win Wang
(his father) as equal with Shang-te.” This is one of
the innumerable passages which enjoin the duty of
ancestral worship. Confucius was less emphatic on
this point than many of the earlier sages of whose
teachings he described himself as being a transmitter,
but the principle runs through the whole of the
Confucian system, and is intimately bound up with
it. Confucianism must be torn up by the roots
before it will be logically possible for the Chinese to
make light of a duty which springs from one of the
most generous instincts of the human heart, and which
is bound up with everything that is good in the con-
stitution of the Chinese commonwealth.

But while it is incumbent on a son to obey the
wishes of his parents, it is also part of his duty to
remonstrate with them should they act contrary to the
rules of propriety. But any such remonstrances must
be made humbly and with bated breath ; and should
these on the first occasion fail to effect their object,
they may be repeated three times. Beyond this a
dutiful son will not press his reproofs, but will mourn
in silence the obduracy of his parents. When sick-
ness befalls them, he must not only double his atten-
tions to them, but he should display his grief by

I 2 2 CONFUCIANISM.

leaving his cap tassel uncombed, by not walking abroad,
by abstaining from tasty food and choice wine, from.
playing music, and from loud laughter.1
At their death he must give them the obsequies
befitting their rank,2 and since a son is “fostered by
his parents for three years ” 3 he should mourn for
them for the same period. And his respect should
teach him to preserve the customs of his father for-
the same time. The sacrifices at the tombs should be
provided with no niggard hand and should be offered
with a full consciousness of the presence of the dead.4
But filial piety is due to others besides parents.
It commands the minister to serve his prince loyally ;
the Mandarin to perform the duties of his office
reverently; the friend to be faithful to his friend;
and the soldier to be brave in battle.5 But it spreads
even beyond this. “Every tree,” says the Le-ke, “has
its appointed time to perish, and every beast its
appointed time to die, and he who cuts down a tree
or kills an animal before their time is guilty of unfilial
conduct.”6
Viewing with such supreme importance the duty of
filial piety, it is only natural that the State should visit
with condign punishment those who are guilty of any
dereliction of it. The heaviest penalties of the law
have always been exacted in such cases and the
Peking Gazette of 1877 contains mention of five.
culprits, one of whom was a lunatic, who were sliced.
to death for the murder of their parents.
1 Le ke. >1 Chung yung, xviii. 3.
3 Lun yu, xvii. 21, 6. \4 Ibid. xix. 5.
5 Le ke. 5 Ibid.

FILIAL PIETY. I 2 3-.

“Filial piety,” said Confucius, “is the beginning
of virtue, and brotherly love is the sequel of virtue.”
One is the natural consequence of the other, just as
filial piety follows on the display of sympathy from'
the parents. It is brotherly love which unites mem-
bers of a household together, and which with filial
piety is the root of all benevolent actions. “Happy
union,” says the Book of Poetry, “ with wife and
children is like the music of lutes and harps. And
when there is concord among brethren the harmony
is delightful and enduring.” There is no friend like-
a brother. He springs from the same source as.
yourself, and was nourished at the same breasts.
These were the considerations which knit together-
the hearts of brethren “in the brave days of old.”
Then brothers loved to dwell together under the
same roof, and to lie beside each other in the same-
tomb. But nowadays Chinese moralists complain
that the love for wife and children surpasses that
between brethren. “I have heard,” says a well-
known writer, “of brothers living asunder, but I
never see man and wife living apart.” And yet how
much more sacred should be the bond, forged by
Heaven, which unites brothers, than that which,
being the work of man, binds together husband and
wife.1 The love which brother should bear to
brother is second only to that which is due from
children to parents. It consists in mutual friend--
ship, joyful harmony, and dutiful obedience on the
part of the younger to the elder brother.

1 Ta tae Le kc, and commentaries.

1 24 CONFUCIANISM.

No step in life should be taken by a younger son
without first consulting with his father and elder
brothers, and in return for the sympathy and affec-
tion shown him, he should open his whole heart
unreservedly to them. In all things the younger
must show deference to the elder brother, and must
give way to him in everything, whether in speaking
or in walking, in sitting down and rising up. On the
other hand, elder brothers must show a good example
to their juniors. “The posterity of the Sage Con-
fucius, it is stated, are never known to be angry;
and the posterity of Tsang-tsze, one of the Sage’s
most distinguished disciples, are never known to
revile others.”1 And this is as it should be, for are
not brothers of the same flesh and bones ; and is not,
therefore, a slight put upon a brother really a slight
put upon the parents P 9

The very inferior position held by women in China
from time immemorial deprives them of all right to.
fraternal regard. A slavish submission is a woman’s~
highest duty, and no better description can be given
of the various fates awaiting sons and daughters than
that quoted below from the Book of Poetry, where
the poet forecasts the future of King Seuen :3—

“ Sons shall be his” (the king’s), “ on couches lulled to rest.

The little ones, enrobed, with sceptres play ;
Their infant cries are loud as stern behests ;
Their knees the vermeil covers shall display.

As king hereafter one shall be addressed ;
The rest our Princes, all the states shall sway.”

 

1 Dr. Legge’s Lectures on Imperial Confucianism.
2 Ibid. 3 Dr. Legge’s version of the Book of Odes.

HUSBAND AND \VIFE. 125

“ And daughters also to him shall be born.
They shall be placed upon the ground to sleep ;
Their playthings tiles, their dress the simplest worn ;
Their part alike from good and ill to keep,
And ne’er their parents’ hearts to cause to mourn ;
To cook his food, and spirit malt to keep.”

It is only when a woman becomes a mother that
she receives the respect which is by right due to her,
and then the inferiority of her sex disappears before
the requirements of filial love, which is the crown and
glory of China.

But at the root of all family ties is the relation of
husband and wife,1 which is as the relation of heaven
and earth. On this subject Confucius was singularly
silent, possibly because his own married life was un~
happy. A man who is compelled to divorce his wife
is not likely to take a favourable View of women in
general, and thus we find that Confucius looked on
women as necessary evils, who were to be endured
only as the possible mothers of men. “ Of all people,”
remarked the Sage, “women and servants are the
most difficult to manage. If you are familiar with
them, they become forward, and if you keep them at
a distance, they become discontented.”2 For con-
jugal fidelity on the part of the husband he had no
overweening respect, and speaks in one passage with
contempt of the “small fidelity” of common men
who are bound to one wife.3 But on the other hand,
he inveighs repeatedly against indulgence in lustful
pleasures, and when the Duke of Ts’e sent a present
of female musicians to the ruler of Loo, Confucius

' Le ke. ‘3 Lun yu, xvii. 25. 3 Ibid. xiv. 18, 2.

I 2 6 CONFUCIANISM.

marked his disapprobation of the reception given
them by withdrawing from the court. “A woman,”
he said, disparagingly, “is unable to stand alone, and
therefore when young depends on her father and
brothers, when married, on her husband, and after
his death, on her sons.”1

The great object of marriage is to beget children,
.and especially sons, who may perform the required
sacrifices at the tombs of their parents. And on this
account it is fit and proper for a childless widower to
take to himself a second wife, while as no such reason
exists for the re-marriage of a widow, it is an act of
lewdness on her part again to enter the bonds of
matrimony. To such a length is this desire for
children carried, that barrenness forms one of the
“seven reasons for divorce” sanctioned by Con-
fucius. These seven reasons are as follows :—1. Dis-
obedience to her father-in-law or mother-in-law; 2.
Barrenness 3 3. Lewdness 3 4. Jealousy 3 5. Leprosy 3
6. Garrulousne553 and 7. Stealing.2

Such a law necessarily places the wife much in the
power of the husband, and it is her interest, therefore,
as well as her duty, to pay him due reverence in all
things 3 to be courteous, humble, and conciliatory in
her address and manner towards him, and to obey
without question his every word. If his conduct
should be in any way contrary to right principles, she
may gently remonstrate with him, but not so as to
irritate or annoy him.3 In this way domestic har-
mony is maintained3 but if a husband and wife

‘ Le ke. 9 Ta Tae le. 3 Seun tsze.

MARRIAGE. 1 2 7

regard one another with rebellious eyes, the house-
hold soon falls into disorder.1 According to the
Confucian system, a woman’s life is divided into
periods 'of seven months or years, and a man’s into
periods of eight months or years. Thus an infant
girlcuts her teeth at seven months, and changes
them at seven years; at fourteen she arrives at
puberty, and at seventy she should be prepared to
die. A boy, on the other hand, cuts his teeth at
eight months, changes them at eight years, arrives at
puberty at sixteen, and has exhausted life by the age
of eighty.

Fifteen, therefore, is a marriageable age for a
woman, and twenty for a man. This is about the
proportion of age that should be maintained between
man and wife. An old man marrying a young girl is
like a decayed willow-tree producing buds, and
cannot but end in disaster. It is, however, one
degree better than an old woman marrying a young
husband, which is like a decayed willow tree pro-
ducing blossoms, and is in every way detestable.2

It follows from what has been said that Confucius,
like the Jewish lawgivers, fully sanctioned polygamy,
and with the same object. No Jewish patriarch ever
longed for a son more ardently than do Chinamen,
and so legitimate is the desire considered, that it is
regarded as a matter of course that the husband of a
childless wife should take a concubine to raise up
seed to himself. If, however, the possession of de-
scendants is looked upon as important in the case of

‘ Yih king. Seaou chuh kwa. 2 Yih king, Ta kwo kwa.

1 2 8 CONFUCIANISM.

private individuals, it is d forz‘z'orz' important that the
Emperor should have an heir to succeed him, and it
is consequently decreed by the “Rites of the Chow
Dynasty” that to insure him against the chance of
being childless, he should be provided with three
concubines of the first class, nine of the second,
twenty-seven of the third, and eighty—one of the
fourth, besides the Empress. The evils which flow
from this imperial system are so obvious as scarcely
to require mention, and not unfrequently defeat their
own object, while the introduction of concubines into
private households is a fruitful source of great misery.
The failure to recognize the sanctity of the marriage
bond is a great blot in the Confucian system. It
has, in a great measure, destroyed domesticity, it has
robbed women of their lawful influence, and has
degraded them into a position which is little better
than slavery. “Men being firm by nature,” said
Seun-tsze, “are virtuous, and women being soft, are
useful.” This saying justly represents the estimate
commonly held of the relative standing of the two
sexes.

“Husband and wife,” said Choo He, “is the
heaven—ordained relation on which depends succes-
sion, and friendship is the heaven-ordained rela-
tionship on which depends the correction of one’s
character. For by it the way of men is traced out,
and men’s highest principles are built up.” Con-
fucius and his followers have laid great stress upon
the importance of friendship, and if their advice were
always followed in the choice of friends, no doubt the
great results they expect from it would frequently

FRIENDSHIP. 129

ensue. If,_for example, men were only to associate
with those who, being of one mind and pursuing the
same ends as themselves, are virtuous and upright,
standing firm in righteousness, the world would be a
great deal better than it is.1 And here, as at every
point, Confucius fails to give any reason why men
should choose the virtuous course rather than the
opposite. It is true he says that “To find enjoy-
ment in many worthy friends is advantageous ;”9 and
again, “There are three advantageous kinds of friend-
ship—via, with the upright, with the sincere, and
with the experienced; and there are three injurious
kinds of friendship—via, with the haughty, with the
coxcomb, and with the glib-tongued.”3 But he holds
out no other reason why men should seek their
friends among the good. A high value is, however,
set on true friendship.

“From the Emperor downwards all must have
friends. Friendship is the first of the social relation-
ships, and may not be abandoned for a single day.”4r
No one should have a friend who is not equal to
himself ,5 and the best friends are those which a
dutiful son inherits from his father.6 Such friends,
whether in trouble or sorrow, are always welcome.
They halve one’s cares and double one’s joys. They
are wealth to the poor, strength to the weak, and
medicine to the sick.7 They are ever ready to forget
one’s ill-treatment of them, and to remember one’s

‘ Le ke. 2 Lun yu, xvi. 5.
3 Ibid. xvi. 4. 4 Choo tsze yu luy.
5 Lun yu, i. 8, 3. 6 Single. 7 Ibid.

K

1 3o CONFUCIANISM.

virtues, and whether near or at a distance, they
neither suspect nor doubt one.1

Literature is a bond which unites friends in the
truest friendship. The superior man gains friends by
literary exertions, and enhances his humanity by
friendship. “When you are living in a state,” said
Confucius, “take service with the most worthy
among the great officers, and make friends of the
most virtuous among the scholars.”2 A man should
behave to his friend as he would have his friend
behave towards him.3 He should faithfully admonish
him, and kindly try to lead him. But if he find him
impracticable, he should stop, lest he disgrace him-
self.“ He should, like the disciple Tsze-loo, desire
to have chariots and horses and light fur dresses that
he might share them with his friends.5 Whenever a
friend of Confucius died who had no relations to
perform the necessary funeral rites, he buried him,
considering this to be one of the bounden duties of
friendship. In the same way he never acknowledged
any present made him by a friend, excepting the
flesh of sacrifice, which having been offered by his
friend to the spirits of his parents or ancestors,
required acknowledgment.“

Above all things, there should be entire confidence
between friends. To conceal resentment and appear
as a friend is a shame,7 and destroys that sincerity
which is his mark of true friendship. “ He who is

' Kea yu. 2 Lun yu, xv. 9.
3 Chung yung, xiii. 4. 4 Lun yu, xii. 23.
5 Ibid. v. 25. 6 Ibid. x. 15.

7 Ibid. v. 24.

FRIENDSHIP. I 3 I

not trusted by his friends,” said Confucius, “ will not
gain the confidence of his sovereign ..... He that

is not obedient to his parents, will not be trusted by
his friends.”1

’ Chung yung, xx. I7.

r 32 CONFUCIANISM.

CHAPTER V.
THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE.

THIS is the next stage at which the superior man
arrives. Having learnt to rule well his household, he
is able to govern the empire. And here he first
comes into direct relationship with “the“ way of
heaven and earth,” which is to be perfected by his
development of the nature of men and things, in
order that he may “cherish the people.”1 The good
of the people is the main object of good government.
“No virtue,” said Emperor Kuh (2435 B.C.), “is
higher than to love all men, and there is no loftier
aim in government than to profit all men.”2 When
Confucius was asked what should be done for the
people, he replied, “Enrich them ;” and when asked
what more should be done, he answered, “Teach
them.”3 Few would be inclined to dissent from the
view that it would be advantageous to the State if
the people were sufficiently well off and efficiently
instructed. But here, again, we have to find fault
with the very impractical nature of the advice offered
by the Sage. He does not attempt to explain how

' Yih king. Tai kwa. 9 Shoo king.
3 Lun yu, xiii. 9.

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE. I 33

he would propose to enrich the people, but seems
lost in a dream in which were to be revived the days
of Yaou and Shun, as described in the Shoo-king,
when by the force of their individual characters evil
was blotted out from the empire, and with it poverty
and ignorance. “If any one of the princes would
employ me,” was his vain boast, “I would accom-
plish something considerable in the course of a
twelvemonth, and in three years the government
would be perfected.”1

All his advice on the science of government is
borrowed from the Shoo-king, and, as is often the
case under such circumstances, loses some of its
completeness in the transfer. We there read that
virtue is seen in the goodness of government, and
that the government is tested by its nourishing the
people.2 Confucius said : “The requisites of govern-
ment are, that there be sufficiency of food, suffi-
ciency of military equipment, and the confidence
of the people in their rulers.”3 This is only an im-
perfect abstract of the passage in the Shoo-king, which
he probably had in his mind at the moment. There
we are told that the eight requisites of government
are—Food, trade, the maintenance of the appointed
sacrifices, the Ministry of Works, the Ministry of
Instruction, the Ministry of Crime, arrangements for
the entertainment of guests from afar, and provision
for the support of the army} Here we have a much
more complete picture of the machinery of govern-

] Lun yu, xiii. Io. 9 Shoo-king. Ta yu mow.
3 Lun yu, xii. 7. 4 Shoo-king. Hung fan.

I 34 CONFUCIANISM.

ment. For we have indicated the sources from which
food for the people is to be derived, and the means
by which their moral welfare is to be maintained,
their comfort and education are to be promoted, the
law-abiding are to be protected from the lawless, the
friendship of neighbouring states is to be encouraged,
and the national honour is to be supported.

In denying to Confucius the credit of originality,
we are merely accepting his own estimate of his
teaching. Almost all his doctrines, and certainly his
most striking utterances, are borrowed from the earlier
classics, and, as a rule, the impression on the original
coin is more deeply cut than on the reproduction.
Nowhere does Confucius give such radical advice on
the science of government as that offered by the
great Yu to his sovereign : “Attend to the springs of
things, and study stability.”1 Of the conditions
under which good government will exist, and of the
results of it, he has plenty to say. According to him,
good government exists when the prince is prince,
and the minister is minister 3 when the g her is father,
and the son is son.2 This is all true enough 3 but
Yu struck deeper when he said, “When a sovereign
can realize the difficulty of his sovereignty, and the
minister can realize the difficulty of his ministry,
government will be well ordered.”3

In order that government should be stable, it is
necessary that it should be conducted on virtuous prin-
ciples 3 and to this end it is imperative not only that

1 Shoo-king. Ta yu mow. 9 Lun yu, xii. II, 2.
3 Shoo-king. Ta yu mow.

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE. 135

the sovereign should be upright in all things, but
that nepotism. in the distribution of offices should
be strictly avoided, and that only men of worth and
ability should be employed. Such conduct will draw
down on the land the gifts of Shang-te, and the bless-
ings of Heaven, adds Yu.1 Confucius has no such
heavenly rewards to offer. His essentially pagan
mind rejected the idea of any spiritual interference in
the affairs of men. He would have men virtuous for
virtue’s sake; and he attempted to impose, on the
ever-varying natures of men a moral system which he
felt was suflicient for the guidance of his own steps,
and which he therefore imagined would satisfy the
spiritual wants of his fellow-citizens. This mistake of
Confucius has been shared in by men of every age
and of every clime 3 but if ever it was justified by
results, it was so in his case. Opinions which in other
countries have been confined to a comparative few,
have in China been adopted by the nation at large
for more than three-and-twenty centuries.

The force of example is one of the leading doc-
trines of Confucianism. If the sovereign is desirous
of doing good, the people will be good; and if the
ruler be not covetous, even though he were to reward
the people to steal, they would be honest,2 said the
Sage. Few will deny the immense power of example.
“ Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to
send forth a stinking savour,” wrote Solomon; and
the experience of every day teaches how potent is the
force of example for good or for bad in every con-

‘ Shoo-king. 9 Lun yu, xii. 18, 19.

1 36 coxrucr-mlsm.

dition of life—in the school, the household, the pro-
fession, and society. But Confucius carried the
doctrine to an absurd length in the face of every true
lesson of history, and of the events of his own
career.

Much, however, that Confucius taught on the
subject of government may be quoted without
criticism. In reply to 'l‘sze-ehang’s question, How
should a sovereign act in order that he may govern
properly? he replied: Let him honour the five ‘
excellent, and banish the four bad things. .
(The five good things are)—.(I) When the person
in authority is beneficent without great expenditure;
that is, when he makes more beneficial to his
pe0p1e the things from which they naturally derive
benefit: (2) When he lays tasks on the people
without their repining; that is, when he chooses
the labours which are proper, and employs them
on them: (3) When he pursues what he desires
without being covetous ; that is, when his desires
are set on benevolent government, and he realizes
it: (4) When he maintains a dignified ease without
being proud; that is, whether he has to do with
many people or with few, or with great things or with
small, he does not dare to show any disrespect:
(5) When he is majestic without being fierce; that
is, when he adjusts his clothes and cap, and throws a
dignity into his looks, so that, thus dignified, he is
looked at with awe. (The four had things are :)—(I)
To put the people to death without having instructed
them ,——this is called cruelty. To require from them
suddenly the full tale of work without having given

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE. I37

them warning ,—this is called oppression. To issue
orders as if without urgency, at first, and when the
time comes, to insist upon them with severity ,—this
is called injury. And, generally speaking, to give pay
or rewards to men, and yet to do it in a stingy way ;
—this is called acting the part of a mere official.1
Next, then, to the character of the sovereign the
characters of the officials employed by him are most
essential. As we learn from the Shoo-king, good and
bad governments depend upon the various officers.‘3
Confucius reiterated this dictum, and enlarged on
the necessity of employing only men of virtue and
talents. “With the right men,” he added, “the
growth of government is rapid, just as vegetation is
rapid in the earth; and indeed their government
might be called an easily growing rush. Therefore
the administration of government lies in getting
proper men. Such men are to be got by means of
the ruler’s own character. That character is to be
cultivated by his treading in the ways of duty. And
the teaching those ways of duty is to be cultivated by
the cherishing of benevolence.”3 Under such an
administration the criterion of good government
quoted by Confucius may be safely applied. Those
who are near will be made happy, and those who are
far off will be attracted} By “those who are far off”
it must not be supposed that Confucius had in his
mind any but those neighbouring tribes who would
naturally be so struck with the contrast between their

' Lun yu, xx. 2. 2 Shoo-king. Shwo ming-chung.
3 Chung yung, xx. 2, 3. ‘ Lun yu, xiii. 16, 2.

1 38 CONFUCIANISM.

own rude laws and the carefully modelled govern-
ment of the empire, that they would be willing to
acknowledge themselves the subjects of China.

Of the officials of his own time he speaks, not un-
naturally considering how they scorned his teachings,
with supreme contempt. “Pooh!” said he, “they
are so many jackanapes, not worthy to be taken into
account.”1 Nothing is so trying to baffled virtue as
successful charlatanism, and Confucius was not above
venting his spleen against those who rode in the high
places of the earth. In contrast with such, he de-
scribed three degrees of competent officials, the first
and best being those who in their conduct maintained
a sense of shame, and who, when sent to any quarter,
'do not disgrace their Sovereign’s commission; the
next are those whom their relatives pronounce to be
filial, and their clansmen pronounce to be fraternal 3
and the last are those who are determined to be
sincere in what they say, and to carry out what they
devise. “These are obstinate little men,” adds the
sage?

It will be seen that in government, as with every-
thing else, Confucius strove with all his might to
carry his countrymen back to the ideal times of
kings Win and Woo. He refused to recognize the
changes which were foreshadowed by the growth of
new and vigorous states, and by the decrepitude of“
the Imperial Kingdom of Chow, and attempted to
bolster up that which was already falling to pieces,
and to suppress the aspirations of those who, as must

1 Lun yu, xiii. 20, 4. 2 Ibid. xiii. 20, 1-3.

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE. I39

have been obvious to every one but himself, were
destined to fight for the mastery over the ruins of the
royal house. The sum of his teachings may be
described in his own words : “ Follow the seasons of
Hea. Ride in the state chariots of Yin. Wear the
ceremonial cap of Chow. Let the music be the Shaou,
with its pantomimes. Banish the Songs of Ch’ing,
and keep far from specious talkers.”1

The two motive powers of government, according
to Confucius, are righteousness and the observance
of ceremonies, and the presence or absence of these
find their expression in the music of the period.
“The superior man by respect preserves internal
uprightness, and by rectitude outward propriety of
conduct,” 9 wrote the Duke of Chow. Righteousness
is the law of the world, as ceremonies form a rule to
the heart.3 It was essential that in a system such as
that of Confucius, which was based on the relations
of man to man, a full and exact code of ceremonies
should be established to mark the degrees of reverence
which were due to the various degrees of kindred and
ranks in life. In this way the near and distant rela-
tionships were settled, suspicions and doubts were
decided, the similar and dissimilar were plainly dis-
tinguished, and the true was separated from the
false.4 But ceremonies, as employed by Confucius,
were intended to play a more important part even
than this. They were to keep all unruly passions in
check. They were to produce a uniform reverential
manner among all classes of the people. Sons of all

‘ Lun yu, xv. x. 2-6. 2 Yih king. K’wan kwa.
3 Shoo-king. ‘ Le ke.

14o CONFUCIANISM.

ranks and degrees were to conform to exactly the
same elaborate ceremonials towards their parents ;
officials and people were to observe strictly the rules
of etiquette laid down for their guidance, and thus
by means of ceremonies the people were to be
educated to play their part as members of the house-
hold and the State. There can be no doubt that the
observance of ceremonies has a pacifying effect. It
is difficult to fall out violently by the way, with a
man to whom one has been taught all one’s life to
talk in set complimentary phrases, and to honour by
deep bows and genufiections. And if it were possible
to enforce such a system on the entire population of
a country, no doubt Confucius’s definition of good
government would be realized, and the Prince would
be Prince, the Minister would be Minister, the father
would be father, and the son would be son ; universal
humility would prevail, there would be no excess, no
usurpation, and no irreverence.

But here again he over-estimated the force of
example, and ignored the fact that in every country
there is a lawless element which’fe‘ftfies to be kept in
bounds by any but the firm hand "_o_f the—law. Only
once does he appear to have recognized this fact, and
that is in his Commentary on the Yih king, where he
says: “The superior man enjoys security, but he
does not dispense with caution,- he preserves what
he possesses, yet does not forget that he may lose it ;
he rules in peace, but does not forget that rebellion
is possible 3 then it is that personal tranquillity may be
enjoyed, and the subjects of a state be protected.” 1

’ Yih king. He tsze.

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE. I41

It is by the rules of propriety that the character is
established, said Confucius, but it is from music that
the finish is received. Thus music played in his
system an important part in the government of a
state. It produced a distinct impression on the
people for good or for evil. So obvious was this
impression to the eyes of wisdom, that we are told
that when on his way to Ts’e, Confucius recognized
in the gait and manners of a boy whom he met
carrying a pitcher, the influence of the Shaou music,
and told the driver of his carriage to hurry on to the
capital. In another passage it is related that the sound
of stringed instruments and singing at a place called
W oo-shing caused him great delight, as he discerned
by its tenour the effect produced on a people turbu—
lent by nature by the wise and beneficent rule of his
disciple Tsze—yew.1 But music, like every other
accomplishment, must be the outcome of sincerity.
Without sincerity it is nothing worth. Bells and
drums no more make up what is meant by music,
than do gems and silks constitute propriety.2 “If a
man,” said Confucius, “ be without the virtues proper
to humanity, what has he to do with either the rites
of propriety or with music 2” 3

But the great work which the Sage has to accom-
plish, and which is the object of his being, is to make
the whole Empire peaceful and happy. This condi-
tion is arrived at when “the sovereign, by behaving
to the aged as the aged should be behaved to, makes
the people filial 5 when by behaving to his elders as

‘ Lun yu, xvii. 4. 9 Ibid. xvii. II. 3 Ibid. iii. 3.

r42 CONFUCIANISM.

elders should be behaved to, he teaches the people
brotherly submission; and when, by treating com-
passionately the young and helpless, the people learn
to do the same.”1 Such was the state of things which
existed under the ideal rule of Yaou and Shun.
Appointed by the wish of Shang—te, in succession, to
the throne, and being gifted by heaven with perfect
natures, they followed without effort the heavenly
way, thus drawing down on themselves and their
fellow-men the blessings of Shang-te and the favour
of heaven.

1 Ta heo, x. I.

INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. 143

CHAPTER VI.
INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS.

SUCH are the main features of the teachings of
Confucius. The welfare of the people, the right
government of the state, and the prosperity of the
empire, were the principal objects of his solicitude.
But incidentally he touched on many subjects which
only indirectly bear on these. His frequent themes
of discourse were the “ Book of Poetry,” “The Book
of History,” and the maintenance of the rules of pro-
priety. He taught also letters, ethics, devotion of
soul, and truthfulness. But extraordinary things, feats
of strength, states of disorder, and spiritual beings, he
did not like to talk about.1

As a moralist he must always rank high among the
teachers of mankind. Five hundred years before
Christ he taught—in the negative form, it is true,—that
“most unshaken rule of morality, and foundation of
all social virtue,” “All things whatsoever ye would
that men should do unto you do ye even so to them.”
“What you do not,” he said, “ want done to yourself
do not 'do to others.” 2 The difference between
this and the Christian rule will be at once apparent ;

1 Lun yu, vii. I7, 24, 20. 2 Lun yu, XV- 23-

I 44 CONFUCIANISM.

but it is nevertheless a notable fact that Confucius
should have so nearly approached it. Like all that
he taught, this maxim had its origin in the earlier
classics, where in the matter of loyalty and filial
piety men were told that they must not expect a
display of those virtues towards themselves unless
they in their turn practised them towards those to
whom they were due. Reciprocity in practice was
thus laid down as a rule of life, though___i_t was left
for Confucius to give expression to it in the abstract
form. I

Beyond this he did not go. .ReciprocityLand that
alone, was to be the guide of men’s ‘conduct to one
another. “What do you say,” said a disciple, Fon-
cerning the principle that injury should be recom-
pensed with kindness?” The master said: “With
what then will you recompense kindness? Recom-
_pense injury with justice, and recompense kindness
with kindness.” 1

There is no spirit of forgiveness here, it is the stern
law of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Of
the man who returns good for evil he speaks with
contempt, as a cowardly creature who is “careful of
his person.” Far from checking the spirit of revenge,
he inculcates it as a duty under certain circumstances.
“ ‘What course is to be pursued,’ asked Tsze-hea, ‘in
the case of the murder of a father or a mother?’
‘ The son,’ said the Sage, ‘must sleep upon a mattress
of grass, with his shield for his pillow ; he must
decline to take office ; he must not live under the

1 Lun yu, xiv. 36.

INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. I45

same heaven with his slayer. When he meets him in
the market-place, or the court, he must have his
weapon ready to strike him.’ ‘And what should be
done to avenge the murder of a brother?’ ‘ The sur-
viving 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 to be done
in the case of the murder of an uncle or a cousin? ’
‘ In such a case the nephew or cousin is not the prin-
cipal. If the principal on whom the revenge devolves
can take it, he has only to stand behind with his
weapon in his hands to support him.’ ”1

We are accustomed to such laws in the Old T esta-
ment history, and the condition of society in China at
the time of Confucius was not much more advanced
in such matters than that existing at the time of
Moses. And, indeed, the code of Confucius com-
pares favourably with that promulgated by the Hebrew
lawgiver. Only on the slayer of a father or brother
was vengeance to follow inevitably ; whereas by the
law of Moses no such restriction was laid on an avenger
of blood. This is all the more in Confucius’s favour,
since it is his unbounded reverence for the duty of
filial piety which alone makes him call aloud for ven-
geance in the case of parricides.
. The prominence given to filial piety by Confucius
was, however, carried to lengths which blinded him to
the difference between r1ght and _wrong. He would
have a father conceal the dishonesty of a son, and a son

__--— _,

’ Legge’s “ Chinese Classics.”
L

146 CONFUCIANISM.

that of his father. “Uprightness is to_ be__f_gund in
this,”1 he said. This undue exaltation of one virtue
to the detriment of others arose rather from a moral
blindness than from any tendency towards deceit, for
no one could be more constant in their exhortation to
sincerity and honesty than Confucius. But just as a
man shuts off from his view surrounding objects by
holding some one thing close to his eyes, so Confucius
lost all sense of the presence of other obligations by
directing his attention too exclusively to the duty of
filial piety. “ Sincerity,” said he, “is the end and be—
ginning of things ; without it there would be nothing.”

Every student of Confucius must hold his personal
character in high estimation. The narrative of few
men’s lives would be found so free from the taint of
vice, and so full of many and estimable traits. Charges
have been brought against him of want of truthfulness,
but if we examine them they dwindle down to the mere .
question of what is truth. The main case against him i
is that when he was surrounded by the men of FCC he
regained his liberty by taking an oath that he would
not proceed to the state of Wei, and as soon as his
captors left him he continued his journey to that
state. His defence of his conduct was that the oath
had been extorted by force, and was not therefore
binding. This is a nice question for casuists, but it
is one upon which we do not intend to enter, being
convinced that by most people he will not be held to
be very blameworthy for that which, at the worst, was
a mistaken notion of truthfulness.

1 Lun yu, xiii. 18.

INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. I47

A striking characteristic of Confucius was his
humility; he scrupulously disclaimed all originality
of doctrine. “A transmitter and not a maker, believ-
ing in and loving the ancients, I venture to compare
myself with our old P’ang,” was his description of him-
self. Nowhere did he depart from the language here
used, and he resisted every temptation to usurp
honours which did not belong to him. Though more
deeply versed in the literature of his country than any
of his contemporaries, he yet professed himself defi-
cient in knowledge, though deeply enamoured of
learning. Though looked upon by his fellow-men as
a sage, he disclaimed the possession of the qualities of
even a “superior man.” “ I am not virtuous enough,”
he said, “to be free from anxieties 3 not wise enough
to be free from perplexities ; and not bold enough to
be free from fear.”1 In his duties as an official, as a
son, and as a worshipper of the dead, be counted him-
self unworthy; and though at times the favoured coun-
sellor of kings, he never strove to advance himself
beyond his proper position, nor to make use of his
influence to magnify himself in the eyes of his fellow
men.

As he himself said, he sought an all-pervading
unity in which the relations of life should be all strictly
maintained, in which honour should be paid to those
to whom it was due, and in which the stirrings of plea-
sure, anger, sorrow, or joy should be kept within their
proper limits. Self was to be subdued, and the in-
dulgence of the appetites was to be kept under con-

1 Lun yu, xiv. 30.
L 2

I48 CONFUCIANISM.

trol. Gravity, generosity, sincerity, earnestness, and
kindness were to be cultivated, and to the more
sterling qualities of the mind should be added the
attraction of accomplishments. For “ when the solid
qualities are in excess of accomplishments, we have
rusticity, and when the accomplishments are in excess
of the solid qualities we have the manners of a clerk.
It is only when the two are equally blended that we
have a man of complete virtue.”1 Of the importance
of having a well-balanced character, which should dis-
play itself in a self-controlled manner, he spoke more
than once. “Respectfulness,” he said, “uninfiuenced
by the rules of propriety, becomes laborious bustle;
carefulness uninfluenced by the rules of propriety
becomes timidity ; boldness uninfluenced by the rules
of propriety becomes insubordination; and straight-
forwardness uninfluenced by the rules of propriety
becomes rudeness.”2 The accounts we have of his
conduct both at home and abroad show how com-
pletely he carried into practice the rules he thus
enunciated. Whether at court or in his own house
he scrupulously avoided any breach ,of the strict
Observances, whether with regard to dress, food,
or movements of the body, laid down by the
ancients.

Poverty was his lot in life, and he never repined at
the absence of wealth. “With coarse rice to eat,”
he said, “with water to drink, and my bended arm
for my pillow, I am still contented and happy.
Riches and honour acquired by wrong are to me as

' Lun yu, vi. I6. 2 Ibid. viii. 2.

INCIDEN'IAL TEACHINGS op‘ cerucII/s: /r49

floating clouds ”1 But it was oglyp yin /ui1uSual cases I, 3 ,
of emergency that he was reduc dt tpzuch liard fare ’
as this. On ordinary occasions, we ac (told, he was}
particular as to the wholesome qualityof his food and r, /..
as to the way in which it was dressed ; he‘was careful ,
in his choice of wine, and laid down for himself .no‘ t- ,
limit in its use. In all he did he showed himsell" 0”"
to be a sincere admirer of the ancients, and in all he
taught he was actuated by a sincere love for his
fellow men. He had very clearly in his mind a
vision of a perfect state of society, and to this he
strove to raise men’s desires and capabilities. The
means he adopted to this end have been proved to
be hopelessly inadequate, but his admirers can boast
that he established a standard of morality which has
helped to elevate his countrymen above all the other
peoples of Asia, and to preserve the empire intact in
all the vicissitudes of internal discords and foreign
wars through which it has passed during four-ands
twenty centuries.

Nothing has done more to maintain the existing
order of things than the old doctrine he enforced
that sovereigns were placed on the throne by heaven,
and that their right to the sceptre lasted only as long
as they walked in the heavenly path, and obeyed the
heavenly decrees. The departure from virtue was
the signal for their condemnation, and absolved their
subjects from the duty of obedience. He thus
implied the right, which Mencius openly claimed, of
rebellion against impious rulers. Nor has this right

‘ Lun yu, vii. 15.

1 5o CONFUCIANISM.

been allowed to remain a dead letter. Upwards of
thirty times have there been changes of dynasty
since the days of Confucius, and on each occasion
the revolution has been justified by references to the
teachings of the Sage and his great follower Mencius.

This separation of the office from the individual
has rendered all dynastic loyalty impossible, and the
people have seen line after line overthrown and
their places occupied by strangers, and sometimes
foreigners, with perfect equanimity. It is this which
has made revolutions in China so comparatively
peaceful. In a great majority of cases the provincial
officials appointed by the fallen sovereign have been
allowed to retain their posts under his successful
rival. To them the emperor is the son of Heaven,
whether he sits on the throne as the heir of a long
line of emperors, or leaves his carpenter’s bench, like
the founder of the Ming dynasty, to overturn by the
decree of Heaven the unworthy representative of
Yaou and Shun. Still further, the Emperor destroys
his individuality by dropping his name, and by taking
instead of it a designation for his reign consisting of
two carefully-selected characters of fortunate import.
But as these have, until the advent to power of the
present Manchoo dynasty, not unfrequently been
changed during the reign of the same sovereign, few
associations cling round any of them, and the adop-
tion of a new title by a successful rebel destroys
no cherished traditions, and uproots no personal
memories.

Politically speaking, this is a strong point in the
Confucian system, and as there is no (276 jm'c apart

INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. 151

from the defaa‘o royal house of China, it is a doctrine
which has found ready acceptance by each and every
successive sovereign, whose claim to the throne
necessarily rests only on the will of Heaven as inter-
preted by the will of the people.

We have seen in what troublous times Confucius’s
lot was cast. They were days when warriors occu-
pied the stage, and when men of letters were driven
behind the scenes. Of current literature there was none
beyond that which existed in the songs of the people,
.and the works of an earlier date were well nigh
forgotten amid the clash of arms and struggles of
contending Chieftains. To compile and edit these,
and to supplement them when it was necessary, was
the work undertaken by Confucius, who thus brought
again to light and made accessible to his countrymen
the whole of the classical literature of the China of
his day. Hence Confucius came to be regarded as
the founder of learning, and when his works were
recovered after the burning of the books by Che
Hwang-te (circa 220 3.0), the fame of all previous
writers was merged in his who had preserved the
glorious records of the golden age in Chinese history.

The revival of a literature which was looked upon
.as complete was hailed with delight by scholars, to
whom the period since the savage decree of Che
Hwang-te had been a night of mental darkness, and
gained from them, by this circumstance, an exagge-
rated mead of praise. As some of the works were
recovered piece-meal, some even by oral tradition,
the study of the texts became a devouring pursuit
among the literati. Commentaries and critical

1 5 2 CONFUCIANISM.

exegeses began speedily to appear, and instead of
pursuing independent researches and bringing into
play their powers of invention, the scholars of the
day exhausted their ingenuity in elaborate treatises
on minute verbal points of inquiry. The admiration
thus bestowed on the works of Confucius and his
disciples, with which were included the works of
Mencius, gave rise to their being accepted as the
only canonical works in the national literature,
and as thus they received the titles of the “Five
Classics” and the “Four Books.” In the first
category were placed the older works which were
either wholly or in part compiled by Confucius, viz.,
the Yi/z King, or “ Book of Changes”; the S/ze King,
or “Book of Poetry”; the 5/100 King, or “Book of
History”; the Le Xe, or “Book of Rites”; and the
one work of which he was the author, the C/z’mz z‘s’ew,
or “Spring and Autumn Annals.” The “Four Books”
consisted of the Ta Ila}, or “Great Learning”; the
671ng yzmg, or the “Doctrine of the Mean ” ; the
Lmz yu, or the “Confucian Analects” ; and the Ming
1326, or “The Works of Mencius.”

Having nothing whatever wherewith to compare
these works, the contents of which were in complete
harmony with the national mind, the people learnt
to esteem them as the exponents of supreme wisdom.
In every school they were adopted as text-books, and
formed the only course of study pursued by every
scholar throughout the empire. As soon as the
system of competitive examination was introduced
(631 A.D.) they were constituted the sole subjects for
examination, and during all the centuries which have

INCIDENTAL TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS. 153

succeeded that period the same practice has been
maintained. Thus for upwards of twelve hundred
years the nine Confucian classics have been the main
study of every generation of Chinamen from their
childhood to their grave.

The effect of this complete absorption of the
Confucian system into the national character has
been to maintain the influence of the Sage as power-
fully, or even more powerfully, than ever. Buddhism
and Taouism have found their adherents almost
entirely among the uneducated classes, and even
these reject all doctrines which are inconsistent with
the teachings of Confucius. N o educated man would
admit for a moment that he was a follower of either
religion. To all such Confucius is guide, philosopher,
and friend, and though fully recognised by them as a
man, is worshipped as a god.

I 54 CONFUCIANISM.

CHAPTER VII.
MENCIUS.

AFTER the death of Confucius the state of the empire
grew worse and worse. The undutiful became more
undutiful'still, and the unruly more violent. The
antagonism between the various states became even
more pronounced, and the smaller principalities were
being gradually swallowed up by their more powerful
neighbours. To add still further to the perplexity
of the time, men arose who preached new and
strange doctrines, upsetting the recognised principles
of right and wrong. Already men’s minds felt the
influence of the tone of thought in India which
had given rise to Buddhism. Laou-tsze had taught
the vanity of over-striving after earthly objects, and
had held out the promise of a return to the Abso-
lute to those who cultivated self-emptiness and
humility. Some of his followers perverting his views
had even proclaimed the possibility of the apotheosis
of man, and the certainty of his acquiring magical
powers by the exercise of sustained contemplation.
All the old mental and moral landmarks had been
overthrown, and the country was seething in agitation
and confusion.

Such was the condition of the Empire when in the
year 371 B.C. Mencius, on whom the mantle of Con-

MENCIUS. r 5 5

fucius was destined to fall, was born in the principality
of T sow. On arriving at 'ma‘n’s estate he adopted,
like his great prototype, the calling of a teacher, and
gradually surrounded himself with a body of faithful
and admiring disciples whom he educated to assist
him in the work of perpetuating the doctrines of the
Sage. He had no system of his own to enunciate,
but clothing himself in the armour prepared for him
by his master he went forth to combat the evils of the
day, and just in proportion as these were greater and
more complex than in the time of Confucius so was
he bolder in attack and more subtle in argument than
he. Where Confucius had chastised with whips he
chastised with scorpions, and this not only when he
was dealing with his equals or inferiors, but also
where princes and governors were the objects of his
wrath.

“May a subject put a ruler to death?” asked
King Seuen of him. “ He who outrages benevolence,”
.answered Mencius, “is called a ruffian 3 and he who
outrages righteousness is called a villain. The ruffian
and villain we call a mere fellow. I have heard of
the cutting off of the fellow Show [the last Emperor
of the Shang Dynasty]; but I have not heard of a
ruler having been put to death.” The rights of the
people were always uppermost in his thoughts.
“The people,” said he, “are the most important
element in the country. . . . and the ruler is the
lightest.” The welfare of the people therefore should
be the great concern of sovereigns, and he denounced
with no faltering tongue the conduct of kings who by
engaging in needless wars bring ruin and misery on

r 56 CONFUCIANISM.

their subjects. In all his utterances there was-a fresh—
ness and vigour which are not to be found to the same
extent in the works of any other Chinese writer. He
had a straightforward and incisive way of going to the
root of every matter. Whether he had to contend
with visionaries such as Yang Choo and Mih Teih—
the first of whom preached the doctrine of “Each
one for himself” and the last that of “Universal
Love,”—or with unrighteous sovereigns such as King
kuy of Leang, or with argumentative disciples such
as Kaou-tsze, he at once struck at the source from
which their errors sprang. He thrust on one side
all the false issues they raised or the excuses they
offered, and put his finger straight on the faulty argu-
ment, or the guilty motive, which invalidated their
theories or vitiated their conduct. As he said himself,
“I understand words. . . . When speeches are one-
sided I know how the mind of the speaker is clouded
over; when they are extravagant I know wherein the
mind is snared ; when they are all depraved, I know
how the mind has departed from principle; when
they are evasive, I know how the mind is at its wit’s
end.”

Like Confucius, Mencius earnestly longed to find
some ruler who would follow his counsels, and also-
like Confucius, though he visited several courts and
was hospitably entertained, he failed in his great
object. But though fortune refused to smile upon
him he found consolation in his retirement in the
belief that his want of success was the appointment of
Heaven. “Heaven does not wish that the Empire
should enjoy tranquillity and good order,” he said ',

MENCIUS. r 57

and it was therefore in no discontented spirit that he
finally resigned all hope of seeing his principles
carried into practice and devoted the fifteen years of
life which remained to him to the compilation of his
works and the instruction of his disciples.

Mencius was not formed of the stuff that courtiers
are made of. During his lifetime his personal char-
acter was sufficient to save him from the consequences
which might have been expected to follow from some
of the views he expressed in conversations with the
rulers of the states. But after his death, when his
words only remained, and when his disinterested
patriotism and commanding independence were for-
gotten, his merits received but scanty recognition at
the hands of succeeding sovereigns. With the revival
of learning under the Han Dynasty the attention of
scholars was attracted to his writings, but it was not
until the reign of Shin-tsung (A.D. 1068-108 5), of the
Sung Dynasty, that they were included among the
Confucian classics, since which time, however, he has
held a place, second only to that of Confucius, in the
esteem of his countrymen.

I 58 CONFUCIANISM.

CHAPTER VIII.

MODERN CONFUCIANISM.

WE have seen that Confucius’s sun set under a cloud.
The sovereigns of his day refused to listen to his
instructions, and his were not doctrines to make their
way unaided amongst the people. His system ap-
pealed, in the first instance, to the governing class,
and had nothing in it to satisfy the spiritual wants of
man. It was purely a politico-moral system, which
needed patronage from above to enable it to gain
currency in the empire. The condition of the
country at the time of Confucius, and the strong
opinions he held regarding the loyalty due to the
falling house of Chow, deprived it of that patronage
during his lifetime. But no sooner was he dead,
than the Duke Gae, who had always respected him,
but who had never submitted himself to his guidance,
broke out in lamentations over him. “Heaven,”
said he, “has taken from me the aged man. There
is no one now to assist me on the throne. Woe is
me ! Alas I O venerable Ne !” There is no reason
to suppose that these regrets were insincere. The
duke had constantly held long discussions with Con-
fucius on the subject of government, and had no
doubt profited by the advice given him. That he

MODERN CONFUCIANISM. I 5 9

considered the adoption of Confucius’s system in its
entirety as impracticable as affairs then stood is plain,
but he might well have been convinced of the practical
wisdom of much that he taught.

The influence exercised by the disciples of the
Sage was, however, no doubt considerable. Their
devotion to his memory and admiration for his doc-
trine, enforced as these were by Mencius, gained a
certain amount of currency for the general outlines
of his system, even in the unsettled state of society
then existing; and when, after the struggles of the
contending states had ended in the triumph of T s’in,
Che Hwng-te ordered all books to be burnt, the
writings of Confucius were particularly pointed out
for destruction. But they survived the auto-dafé, and
were preserved by ardent scholars in the walls of
houses and beneath the ground, and in the memories
of faithful disciples.

With the accession of the Han Dynasty (206 13.0.),
a new era opened on the Confucian literature. Every
encouragement was given by the Emperor Kaou Te
to learning in all its branches, and to the study of the
works of Confucius in particular. Penetrated with a
sense of the value of the wisdom these contained, the
emperor visited the tomb of the Sage in Loo, and
there offered a bullock as a sacrifice in his honour.
His successor, Ping Te (A.D. I), conferred upon him
the posthumous title of “The Complete and Illus-
trious Duke Ne.” Under this designation he was
known until Ho Te, of the Eastern Han Dynasty
(A.D. 89), entitled him “ The Illustrious and Honour-
able Earl.” But it was not until nearly four hundred

1 60 CON FUCIANISM.

years after thathe was canonized as “The Accomplished
Sage.” Subsequently frequent alterations were made
by imperial order in this title, and in the reign of the
Emperor Yuen-tsung, of the Tang Dynasty( 7 1 5—742),
he was dignified with the appellation of “ Accom-
plished and Perspicacious King.” The royal rank
thus conferred upon him was the apology for moving
his image in the Imperial College from the side of
the hall where it had previously stood, to the centre
facing the south, the true regal position. Desiring
probably to show how much more intense was his
admiration for the Sage than that which had animated
any of his predecessors, Shin-tsung, of the Sung
Dynasty (1068—1086), advanced him to imperial
rank, and styled him “ Emperor.” Later again, Ching-
tsung, of the Yuen Dynasty (1295—1308), con-
ferred upon him the designation of “ Most Complete
and Perfect Sage, the Accomplished and Perspica-
cious King ”3 and, the title which he now bears of
“The Perfect Sage, the Ancient Teacher Confucius,”
was designed by the Emperor She-tsung, of the Ming
Dynasty (1506—1 52 2).

The emperors of the present dynasty have wisely
abstained from adding any new titles of honour to
the memory of the Sage. Their unfeigned zeal in
the cause of his doctrines has been rightly considered
by them to be more truly laudatory than the mere
addition or change of a character in his posthumous
honours. “ The Throneless King ” is, however, an apt
designation, which is common among the people, for
one who has exercised such supreme dominion over
the minds of his countrymen for so many centuries.

MODERN CONFUCIANISM.‘ 161

But the titles conferred on Confucius by the
emperors of China were not mere words. From the
time of the Emperor Kaou Te (206—194 3.0) to
the present day, Confucius has been, outwardly at
least, the object of the most supreme veneration and
devout worship of every occupant of the throne.
Temples have been erected to his honour in every
city in the empire, and his worship, which was origi-
nally confined to his native state, has for the last
twelve hundred years been as universal as the study
of the literature which goes by his name.

The most important and sacred temple is that ad-
joining his tomb in Shantung, on which all the art
of Chinese architecture has been lavished. The
main building consists of two stories, the upper
verandah surrounding which “rests on gorgeous
marble pillars, twenty-two feet high, and about two
feet in diameter, which at a distance appear as if
huge dragons were coiled around them and hanging
from the top. . . . The tiles of the roof are of yellow
porcelain, as in Peking, and the ornamentation of the
eaves is covered with wire-work to keep it from the
birds. Inside the building is the image or statue of
Confucius, in a gorgeously-curtained shrine, holding
in his hand a slip of bamboo, such as was used
for writing upon in his days. The statue is about
eighteen feet by six feet, and is life-like. Confucius
was tall, strong, and well-built, with a full red face,
and large and heavy head. . . . On the tablet is
the simple inscription—‘ The most Holy prescient
Sage Confucius—His Spirit’s resting-place.’ On
the east side are images of his favourite disciples,

M

1 62 CONFUCIANISM.

arranged according to the estimation in which he is
said to have held them. . . . The roof of the building
is crowded with tablets, hung up in honour of the
Sage, each vying with another in extravagant praise.

. Before him, and also before his disciples, were
the usual frames for sacrifices, and in front of these,
beautiful incense-pots; beside them were several
most interesting relics, such as vases, said to be of
the Shang Dynasty, B. C. IMO, the work of which was
superb. There were also two bronze elephants,
reported to be of the Chow Dynasty, and a table of
that same era of dark red wood.

“ On the west side are two temples 3 one in front,
in honour of the father of Confucius . . . and one
behind, in honour of his mother. . . . On the east
side are temples to his five ancestors, and a large
block of marble, whereon is a genealogical tree,
giving all the branches of his family. . . The building
behind the grand temple is the temple in honour of
his wife, in which was only a tablet and no image.
The second temple behind that contained four tablets,
erected by K’ang-he in his honour, one character on
each, and the interpretation was, ‘The perspicuous
teacher of ten thousand kingdoms.’ Here also are
three pictures of the Sage on marble; one an old
man, full-length, rather dim, having no date 3 the
second smaller, with seal characters on the side 5 the
third, and best, giving only his head and shoulders.
These varied somewhat, but were substantially alike.
All of them have the mouth or lips open and front
teeth exposed, and the full, contemplative eyes. Im-
mediately behind these are gravings on marble, illus-

MODERN CONFUCIANISM. 1 6 3

trating all the chief incidents of his life, with appro-
priate explanations at the side. Of these there were
altogether one hundred and twenty slabs, which are
built into the wall.” 1
Second only to this temple is the Kwo-tsze-keen, at
Peking, the main difference between the two being
that at the Kwo-tsze—keen there are no images; but,
on the other hand, it contains evidence of the political
homage paid to Confucius in the shape of six monu-
ments with yellow tiled roofs, recording the following
foreign conquests of the Emperors K’ang—he, Yung-
ching, and K’een-lung :—
I7o4. K’ang-he, conquest of Shomo, Western
Mongolia.
I726. Yung-ching, conquest of Tsing—hai, or
Eastern Tibet.
17 50. K’een-lung, conquest of Kwei-chow.
I760. K’een-lung, conquest of Dsungaria.
I760. K’een-lung, conquest of Kashagaria.
I 777. K’een-lung, conquest of the Meaou country
in Sze-chuen.

To this temple the emperor goes in state twice a
year, and having twice knelt, and six times bowed his
head to the earth, invokes the presence of the Sage
in these words: “Great art thou, 0 perfect Sage!
Thy virtue is full 3 thy doctrine is complete. Among
mortal men there has not been thine equal. All
kings honour thee. Thy statutes and laws have come
gloriously down. Thou art the pattern of this Im-
perial school. Reverently have the sacrificial vessels

1 “Journey’s in North China.” By Rev. A. Williamson.
M 2

I 64 CONFUCIANISM.

been set out. Full of awe, we sound our drums and
bells.”1 The spirit being now supposed to be present,
the ceremony is gone through of presenting the
appropriate offerings, which consist, according to
circumstances, of pieces of satin, wine, salted tiger’s
flesh, dried fish, dried and minced venison, minced
hare, minced fish, a pure black bullock, a sheep or a

pig-
The officiating mandarin then reads the following
prayer :—“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 times and
the present, thou didst digest and transmit the six
classics, and didst hand down lessons for all genera-
tions! 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 philo-
sopher Yen, continuator of thee; the philosopher
Tsang, exhibitor of thy fundamental principles; the
philosopher Tsze-sze, transmitter of thee; and the
philosopher Mang (Mencius), second to thee. May
thou enjoy the offerings.”2

As will be inferred from this prayer, the image of
Confucius does not stand alone, but is surrounded by
images of his principal disciples, while in- a hall at
the back of that dedicated to him are ranged those of
his ancestors. Occasionally different emperors have

‘ Legge’s Prolegomena to the Confucian Analects. ’ Ibid.

MODERN CONFUCIANISM. 16 5

visited his tomb in Shan-tung, at which times the
imperial pilgrims have worshipped with extraordinary
solemnity at his shrine in the adjoining temple.
K’ang-he, the most celebrated both as a ruler and a
scholar of the emperors of the present dynasty, .went
on such a pilgrimage, and “set the example of kneel-
ing thrice, and each time laying his forehead thrice in
the dust, before the image of the Sage.”1

In the provinces 1,500 temples are dedicated to
his worship, where on the first and fifteenth day of
each month sacrificial services are performed before
his image, and once in the spring and autumn the
local officials go in state to take part in acts of specially
solemn worship. According to the S/zz'ng meaou c/ze,
or “ History of the Temples of the Sage,” as many as
6 bullocks, 27,000 pigs, 5,800 sheep, 2,800 deer, and
2,700 hares are sacrificed on these occasions, and at
the same time 27,600 pieces of silk are offered on his
shrine.

Flowing naturally from this worship of Confucius
comes the profound respect and reverence which are
shown to every work of which he was the author, or
which appeared with his z'vgprz’matur. In the great
quadrangle in the Kwo-tsze-keen at Peking are ranged
in long arcades rows of stone slabs, on which are en-
graved the texts of the classics, while “in the centre
stands one of the most striking specimens of Chinese
architecture, consisting in a lofty pavilion-shaped
building, erected upon a platform of white marble
placed in the midst of a circular piece of water, itself
walled in with marble, and across which access is

' Legge’s Prolegomena to the Analects.

r 66 CONFUCIANISM.

given to the building by four marble arches at the
cardinal points. In this building, which represents
the Pi yzmg, or Imperial College of Antiquity, each
sovereign is held bound to enthrone himself once in
the course of his reign, to preside over a solemn
assemblage of all the scholars of the capital, in whose
hearing a classical essay, nominally composed by his
majesty, and hence designated Ya lzm, is recited.” 1

In the constant chorus of admiration which has
been outpoured on the memory of Confucius by every
generation of scholars since his day there has been
scarcely a discordant note. His doctrine of the
natural goodness of man’s nature has been contested,
and various interpretations have been placed upon his
leading doctrines, some commentators describing them
as the utterances of a god, and others as those of a
plain matter-of-fact man who was anxious to do all
the good which lay within his power. The writer of
the greatest eminence who has had the boldness openly
to attack him was Wang Ch’ung (19—90 A.D.), who, in
a work in thirty books, entitled lem Izd/zg, or critical
Disquisitions, “handles mental and physical problems
in a style and with a boldness unparalleled in Chinese
literature,” and devotes a chapter to exposing the
exaggerations and contradictions of which he con-
sidered Confucius to have been guilty.

The doctrines Confucius enunciated were so plainly
contradicted by events within his own experience, that
it is difficult to understand how they can have been
sustained by Confucianists of later ages. The ex-
planation of the difficulty probably is that the sayings
of the Sage have been formulated by his disciples into

1 Mayers’s “ Chinese Government.”

MODERN CONFUCIANISM. r 67-

a system of which he was entirely innocent, for a care-
ful study of the sayings of Confucius tends to show
that he did not devise any regular system, either of '
ethics or of politics, in his own mind, but simply gave
utterance as occasion arose to disjointed maxims,
many of which have been misunderstood, and most
of which are mere quotations from the earlier classics.

Still there remains a substantial substratum of
wisdom in his teachings, and this it is which forms
the raz'sozz (Z’étre of Confucianism. There is much
that has sunk to the bottom, but there is much that
still floats. Few at the present day would agree with
Confucius in his estimate of the extraordinary in~
fluence which is to be exercised by any single man
who is either born a sage or has become a “superior
man” by self-cultivation, and few again would entirely
hold with him in his views on the nature of man, and
on the efficacy of the means which he would employ
to perfect it. But at the same time his maxims of ‘
general morality are such as will command respect
through all time, and carry as much weight now in
China as they did when the revival of learning first gave
birth to the profound admiration of his works which
characterized the opening of the earlier Han Dynasty.

Towards the close of the seventeenth century the
Emperor K’ang-he, whose admiration for Confucius
has been exemplified above, issued sixteen maxims,
founded on the teachings of the Sage, for the guidance
of the people, whose morality “had for some time
been daily declining, and whose hearts were not as of
old.” He thus summed up, as it were, all the essential
points in the Confucian doctrine, and thus he wrote :—

I68

IO.

II.

12

CONFUCIANISM.

. “Esteem most highly filial piety and brotherly

submission, in order to give due prominence
to the social relations.”

“ Behave with generosity to the branches of
your kindred, in order to illustrate harmony
and benignity.”

“Cultivate peace and concord in your neigh-
bourhoods, in order to prevent quarrels and
litigations.”

“Recognise the importance of husbandry and
the culture of the mulberry-tree, in order to
ensure a sufficiency of clothing and food.”

“ Show that you prize moderation and economy,
in order to prevent the lavish waste of your
means.”

“ Make much of the colleges and seminaries, in
order to make correct the practice of the
scholars.”

“ Discountenance and banish strange doctrines,
in order to exalt the correct doctrine.”

“ Describe and explain the laws, in order to
warn the ignorant and obstinate.”

“ Exhibit clearly propriety and yielding courtesy,
in order to make manners and customs
goodfi’

“Labour diligently at your proper callings, in
order to give settlement to the aims of the
people.”

“Instruct sons and younger brothers, in order
to prevent them from doing what is wrong.”

“Put a stop to false accusations, in order to
protect the honest and the good.”

MODERN CONFUCIANISM. 169

I3. “ Warn against sheltering deserters, in order to
avoid being involved in their punishments.”

I4. “ Promptly and fully pay your taxes, in order to
avoid the urgent requisition of your quota.”

I 5. “ Combine in hundreds and tithings, in order to
put an end to thefts and robbery.”

16. “Study to remove resentments and angry feel-
ings, in order to show the importance due to
the person and life.” 1

But it will naturally be asked, Wherein lay the
secret of the vast influence which has been exercised
by Confucius? And to this we answer, first, that
being a Chinaman of Chinamen, his teachings were
specially suited to the nature of those he taught.
The Mongolian mind being eminently phlegmatic and
unspeculative, naturally rebels against the idea of in-
vestigating matters which are beyond its experiences,
and its calm, placid habit forbids its being the insti-
gator of fiery tempers and hot-headed crimes. With
the idea, therefore, of a future life still unawakened, a
plain, matter-of—fact system of morality, such as that
enunciated by Confucius, was sufficient for all the
wants of the Chinese. Secondly, it was to the
interest of both the rulers and the ruled to support
his doctrines. The de facto ruler found in him a
tower of strength; for if the throne was the reward
vouchsafed by Heaven for eminent virtue, then he
who occupied it in peace must necessarily have an
unassailable right to it ; and the constant exhortations
to loyalty to be found on every page of the Confucian

‘ Legge’s “ Imperial Confucianism,” lecture I.

1 7O CONFUCIANISM.

writings cannot but have been grateful to the ears of
sovereigns.

The ruled, on the other hand, felt that they were
supreme in the estimation of the Sage. The promo-
tion of their interests and material well-being was the
first duty of the sovereign, and the extent of their
loyalty was to be measured by his success in this
direction. He recognised no ranks or titles but
those won by merit, and thus every office in the
State was open to every one alike. The people were
to be well cared for, and in case of neglect or oppres-
sion they had the right of rebellion. The sovereign
was the vice-regent of Heaven, but only as long as
he walked in the heavenly way were the unswerving
loyalty and devotion of his subjects due to him.

And thirdly, the possession of so highly-prized a
literature at so early a date having suggested its
adoption as the curriculum in schools and the test of
scholarship at all examinations, the people, ignorant
of all else, have learned to look upon it as containing
the quintessence of wisdom, and its author as the
wisest of mankind. It might be considered im-
possible to calculate the effects of the concentration
of a nation’s mind century after century on the
study of any given text book ; but in China we have
the result worked out before us, and we find that it
has amounted to the absolute subjection of upwards
of forty generations of Chinamen to the dicta of one
man.

TAOUISM.

TAOUISM.

 

C H A P T E R I.
INTRODUCTORY.

IN the condition of China under the Chow Dynasty
we have traced the motives which drew Confucius from
his study, and impelled him to grapple with the times.
The disorder, lust, and violence which he saw rampant
about him were so many irresistible goads to him to
warn and exhort his countrymen and their rulers in
season and out of season. His study of history had
taught him how much may be done by one man.
He had learnt that Yaou and Shun and Woo and
Win had at different times restored the empire from
a state of anarchy to a condition of peace and tran-
quillity by the force of their examples and the influence
of their teachings, and believing himself to have a
heaven-sent mission to repeat their reforms, he laboured
day and night to impress on his hardened contempo-
raries the evils of their ways.

We have seen how completely unsuccessful he was in
his crusade against the iniquities of the time, although
it must be admitted that he had many of the qualities
of a reformer. His moral character was beyond
reproach, he had great persistency, his mental powers

I 74 TAOUISM.

were of a high order, and he was armed with arguments
as persuasive as any which then had or since have
had currency in China. Where he failed, therefore,
it was not likely that others would succeed. Many
tried, and most ended by acting in harmony with the
principle laid down by Confucius, that “a superior
man should not enter a tottering state,” and retired
altogether from political life. Such men watched with
scorn Confucius’s efforts. They saw him travelling
through the country from court to court attended by a
crowd of admiring disciples, and they saw him driven
by neglect to shake off from his feet the dust of capital
after capital. No wonder they imputed to him am—
bitious and unworthy motives. No wonder they
sneered at him, as did the recluse of whom he asked
his way to Ts’ai, and taunted him with his courtier-like
ways and proud airs.

Among these recluses arose one who was noted as
a deep and original thinker, and who became the
founder of Taouism. This was Laou-tsze, the old
philosopher, who was born about fifty years before
Confucius. Laou-tsze was therefore advanced in age
when his great contemporaiy rose to eminence, and
having long found out the hopelessness of attempting
to stem the evil current of the age, he looked on
with supercilious contempt at the futile efforts made
by Confucius in the same direction. '

History, which has been so profuse in its details of
the life of Confucius, has been equally reticent on
the subject of Laou-tsze’s career. We have minute
accounts of all that befell Confucius from his early
manhood to his grave. We are taken into his study

INTRODUCTION. I 7 5

and his dining—room and even into his bed-chamber.
His appearance is as familiar to us as that of Shake-
speare, and we know how he behaved during thunder-
storms and what he ate with his rice. None of these
details could we spare. They all serve to set the man
before us and to illustrate his character and that of
his teachings. But in the case of Laou-tsze no such
intimacy is allowed us. Even his parentage is sur-
rounded with uncertainty, of his life we know nothing
except one or two facts, and we are in ignorance of
the manner of his death and of the place of his
burial. lUAnd yet he‘was one of the deepest thinkers
China has produced;

According to the great historian Sze-ma Tseen,
Laou-tsze’s surname was Le (a plum-tree), his name
Urh (an ear), his style Pill-yang, and his posthumous
title Tan, or fiat-eared. His father is said to have
been a peasant, who married at the age of seventy a
woman little more than half his age. The similarity
between this account and that given of the disparity
between the ages of the father and mother of Con-
fucius makes one hesitate to accept it. But whether
true or false, he is said to have first seen the light in
the year 604 B.C., at the village of Kefih jin, or
“Oppressed Benevolence,” in the parish of Le, or
“Cruelty,” in the district of K’oo, or “Bitterness,” in
the state of T’soo, or “ Suffering.” By some the very
existence of such a person as Laou-tsze has been
doubted, and if he really were only a fiction of the
imagination, no more appropriate names than these
could have been chosen for the birthplace of a man
of virtue, who was driven from office into solitude and

I 76 TAOUISM.

oblivion by the cruelty and oppression of the time. But
those who put full faith in his existence identify this city
of Bitterness with the ancient K’oo, which stood near
to the modern Kwei-tih Foo, in the east of the province
of Honan. At K’oo-yang, a house in which Laou-
tsze is said to have lived is shown, and at the same
place his memory is still further preserved in a temple
which is dedicated to his honour.

Sze-ma T seen tells us nothing of his boyhood or of
his early manhood, but merely mentions that he held
office at the imperial court of Chow, as S/zow tsazzg
5/2sz (/16 size, or “Keeper of the Archives.” The
title of this office has been variously translated. Julien
and Pauthier give it as above, Dr. Legge translates it
“ Treasury-keeper,” and Mr. Watters prefers “ Keeper
of the Imperial Museum.” But apart from the fact
that it was to Laou-tsze that Confucius went to gain
information on the ancient rites and ceremonies of
the state of Chow, which would naturally be sought
for in the State archives, it is stated in the K00
kin t’oo shoo tseih ch’ing, that one object of Con-
fucius’s visit to the philosopher was to hand him a
book to be placed in the archives. This last incident
is possibly legendary, but it shows what the nature
of his duties was understood to have been by his
countrymen.

All authorities agree, however, that it was while
'Laou-tsze held this post at the court of Chow that,
like another Aristotle, Confucius visited the Chinese
Socrates. The fifty-one years through which Con-
fucius had at this time passed had not been unaccom-
panied by many disappointments, and, according to

INTRODUCTION.

Chwang-tsze, hk poured the tale of his experie
into the ears of theuold philosopher, who rebuked h1
reforming zeal 1n thesexw or s : “ If it be known that
he who talks errs by exce 5 1n arguing, and that he
who hears 1s confused by lo. much talk, the Way can
never be forgotten.”

On another occasion, whe1 Confucius had been
enlarging on his admiration for the ancients, the
cynical recluse cut him short by saying,“ The men
of whom you speak, sir, have, with their bones, already
mouldered into dust, and only their words remain.
Moreover, if the superior man gets his opportunity, he
mounts his car and takes office ; and if he does
not get his opportunity, he goes through life like a
wisp of straw rolling over sand. I have heard that a
good merchant, who has his treasure-house well stored,
appears devoid of resources, and that the superior
man of perfect excellence has an outward semblance
of stupidity. Put away, sir, your haughty airs and
many desires, your flashy manner and extr ‘ “gant
will 3 these are all unprofitable to you. This is all I
have to say to you.”

From this interview Confucius retired discomfited,
and said to his disciples, “ I know how birds can fly,
how fishes can swim, and how beasts can run. The
runner, however, may be snared, the swimmer may be
hooked, and the flyer may be shot with an arrow. _
But there 15 the dragon , I cannot tell how he mounts -
on the wind through the clouds, and rises to heaven.
'l‘o-day I have seen Laou-tsze, and can only compare
him to the dragon.” The formalities and professionsi
of virtue in which Confucius delighted to indulge, and

N

TAOUISM.

i ich were esteemed by Laou-tsze 2.4, so many proofs
of his being far from arriving at Taou, irritated the
philosophically-minded keeplr of the archives, who
seems to have taken alpleasure in shocking and
mystifying his matter-0&5 t visitor.

This last is the on] interview between Confucius
and Laou-tsze record-d by Sze-ma Tseen; and the
same historian tells us, ' hat shortly after this, foreseeing
the inevitable downfall‘ of the state of Chow,—a fact
to which Confucius was blind, Laou-tsze resigned his
office and went into retirement. It not unfrequently
happens that at times of disorganization and disruption
in temporal affairs, a co-ordination in spiritual matters
takes place. Men’s minds being forcibly diverted from
the consideration of civil government, are driven to
the contemplation of immaterial concerns. Thus it
was with Laou-tsze : being relieved from the cares of
office, he “cultivated Tam; and Virtue, and resigned
himself to a life of retirement and oblivion.”

B ' before long so disorganized did the state of
society become, that his place of retreat ceased to
furnish him protection against violence, and he there-
fore took his journey into a far country, passing out
of the State which he had served so long by the Han-
koo Pass, in the prefecture of Chen Chow, in the
province of Honan. Here he devoted some time to
instructing Yin He, the keeper of the Pass, in the
doctrines of Taou. After which he went on his
journey westward, and from that moment all trace of
him has been lost.

We are told, however, that he left a son, named
Tsung, who became a general in the state of Wei, and

INTRODUCTION. I 79

was rewarded for his services by a fief at Twan-kan.
From Tsung five generations in .11rect descent are
traced, the last of which settled in the state of T’se.
From this point again history fails to follow the fortunes
of the family: and thus is afforded another contrast
with the family of Confucius, whose representative
at the present day enjoys the title of Duke, and a
liberal pension.

But though history contains but scanty references
to the life of Laou-tsze, religious records, like the
“Aurea Legenda” of Western Hagiology, abound
with marvellous tales of his birth and career. By
some writers he is declared to have been a spiritual
being, and the embodiment of Taou ; without begin-
ning and without cause; the ancestor of the original
breath; without light, form, sound, or voice; having
neither ancestors nor descendants; dark, yet having
within himself a spiritual substance; and that sub-
stance was truth. According to these authors, his
appearance during the Chow dynasty was only one of
his avatars. At the time of the three emperors, he first
appeared as a man under the name of Yuen-chung—
fa-sze, and the intervening period between this and
his final birth as Laou-tsze witnessed no fewer than
ten incarnations.

Equally bold legend-mongers aver that his mother
conceived him in consequence of the emotion she
felt at the sight of a falling star ; that for eighty-one
long years he remained concealed in the womb, and
that at length he was born under the shade of a Le,
or plum-tree. His appearance at his birth, which was
that of an old man with grey hair, gained for him his

N 2

1 8o TAOUISM.

name of Laou-tsze, or Old Boy, by which he is still
known. With his first breath he was endowed with
complete intelligence, and possessed of the power of
speech. Pointing to the tree under which his mother
had a few minutes before given him birth, he said:
“Le [Plum] shall be my surname.” Later writers
state that as soon as he was born he mounted in the
air, like sakyamuni, St. Francis of Assisi, Ignatius
Loyola, and other saints, and pointing with his left
hand to heaven and with his right hand to earth, he
said: “ In heaven above and on earth beneath Taou‘
alone is worthy of honour.” His complexion was
white and yellow; his ears were of an extraordinary
size, and were each pierced with three passages. He
had handsome eyebrows, large eyes, ragged teeth, a
double-ridged nose, and a square mouth; on each .
foot he had ten toes, and each hand was ornamented
with ten lines.

Thus distinguished from the common herd of men,
it is not surprising that Yin He, the keeper of the
Han-koo kwan, on seeing him approach the pass,
should have at once recognised him as being no ordi-
nary man. On the other hand, Laou-tsze, perceiving
that Yin He possessed the qualifications of a disciple,
willingly consented to abide with him for a while, to
instruct him in the principles of Taou. At last the
time came when the philosopher announced his de-
parture westward. Yin He begged earnestly to be
allowed to accompany him, protesting that he was
willing to follow him through fire and water. But
Laou-tsze forbade him. “Then,” said the disciple,
“I pray you, give a record of your philosophy.”

INTRODUCTION.

Upon which Laou-tsze expounded to him h
trines, and left him a work in five thousand chara
on the subject of T aou (the Way) and T 2% (Virtue).

But there was yet another obstacle to his depar-
ture to be overcome. The phiIOSOpher’s servant, Seu
kea, who had served him for two hundred years
without receiving any wages, finding that his master
was going to take a journey whither he knew not,
suddenly demanded his arrears of pay, which upon
calculation were found to amount to 72,000 ounces
of silver. Fearing to face his master, he induced an
acquaintance to ask Yin He to broach the subject to
Laou-tsze. The acquaintance being ignorant of the
relation existing between the master and servant, and
already deeming in anticipation Seu kea to be a rich
man, promised him his daughter in marriage. The
beauty of the girl added to the persistency of the
serving-man, whom Laou-tsze summoned to his pre-
sence. “I hired you originally,” he said, “to per-
form the most humble duties; your circumstances
were poor, and no one else would employ you. I
have given you the talisman of long life, and it is due
to this alone that you are now in existence. How
have you so far forgotten the benefits I have heaped
upon you as to cover me with reproaches? I am
now about to set out for the Western Sea [the
Caspian] ; I intend to visit the kingdoms of Ta T’sin
[the Roman empire], of Ke-pin [Cabul], of Teen-
choo [India], and of Gan-se [Parthia] ; and I order
you to act as my charioteer thitherwards. On my‘
return, I will pay you that which I owe you.”

But Seu kea still refused to obey. Whereupon

TAOUISM.

sze ordered him to lean forward and to open

mouth, and instantly there escaped from his lips

re. talisman, and at the same moment his body be-
came a heap of dry bones.

'At the earnest prayer of Yin He the ungrateful ser-
vant was restored to life, and was dismissed with a
present of 20,000 ounces of silver. Having nothing
further to detain him, Laou-tsze bade farewell to.
the keeper of the pass, and mounting upon a cloud,
disappeared into space.

Some Taouist writers claim Laou-tsze as the author
of nine hundred and thirty of the current works on
the superstitious vanities of modern Taouism, and
add complacently that all other books are unworthy
of the same regard, having been secretly added by
the followers of Taou in later ages.

As stated above, Sze-ma Tseen makes mention of
only one interview between Confucius and Laou-tsze ;
but as the main object of the Sage’s Visit to Chow
was to receive instruction from the Keeper of the
Archives, it is more than probable that, as stated in
the Kea yu, Le-ke, and elsewhere, their intercourse
was frequent. On one occasion, Laou-tsze saw Con-
fucius engaged in study, and asked what book he was
reading. “The Yi/z—lez'ng [the Book of Changes],”
replied Confucius; “the sages of antiquity used to
read it also.” “The sages were able to read it,”
answered Laou-tsze; “but you, to what end do you
read it? What is the groundwork of the book?”
“It treats of humanity and justice,” answered the
Sage.

“The justice and humanity of the day are no more

INTRODUCTION. I 83

than empty names 3 they only serve as a mask to
cruelty, and trouble the hearts of men ; disorder was
never more rife than at present. The pigeon does
not bathe all day to make itself white; nor does
the crow paint itself each morning to make
itself black. The heaven is naturally elevated, the
earth is naturally gross ; the sun and the moon shine
naturally; the stars and planets are naturally arranged
in their places 5 the plants and trees fall naturally
into classes, according to their species. So, sir, if you
cultivate Taou, if you throw yourself towards it with
all your soul, you will arrive at it. To what good is
humanity and justice? You are like a man who
beats a drum while searching for a truant sheep.
Master, you only trouble man’s nature.”1

In this passage we have a clear exposition of the
leading differences between Confucius and Laou-tsze.
Confucius held that the chief requirement of the age
was the rectification of names. He would have men
practise humanity and call it humanity; he would
have men dutiful to their parents, and call it filial
piety ; he would have men serve their sovereign with
their whole heart, and call it loyalty. Laou-tsze, on
the contrary, held that when men professed to be
humane, filial, and loyal, it was a sure sign that the
substance had disappeared, and that the shadow only
remained. The pigeon is not white on account of
much bathing, nor does the crow paint itself black.
If the pigeon began to bathe itself, and the crow to

lJulien, Introduction to “Le Livre de la Voie et de la
Vertu.”

1 84 TAOUISM.

paint itself, would it not be a sign that they had lost
their original colours? And so with men. If all
men were humane, filial, and loyal, no one would
profess these virtues, and they would therefore never
be named. And in the same way, if all men were
virtuous, the names even of vices would be unknown.

No wonder that Confucius searched for twenty
years for the Taou of Laou-tsze and found it not.
“If Taou,” said Laou-tsze, “could be offered to men,
there is no one who would not wish to offer it to his
prince; if it could be presented to men, there is no
one who would not wish to present it to his parents ;
if it could be announced to men, there is no one who
would not wish to announce it to his brethren ; if it
could be transmitted to men, there is no one who
would not wish to transmit it to his children. Why
then are not you able to acquire it? This is the
reason: it is that you are incapable of giving it an
asylum in the bottom of your heart.”

To this Confucius could only reply, in the spirit of
a Pharisee, by pleading his works of merit. “I have
edited the Book of Odes,” said he, “the Book of
History, the Book of Rites, the Treatise on Music,
and the Book of Transformations, and I have com-
posed the Spring and Autumn Annals; I have read
the Maxims of the Ancient Kings; I have brought
to light the splendid deeds of the Sages, and yet no
one deigns to employ me. It is diflicult, I see, to
persuade men.”

“The six liberal arts,”, replied Laou-tsze, “are an
old heritage from the kings of antiquity. That with
which you occupy yourself results only in obsolete

INTRODUCTION. 1 85

examples, and all you do 18 to walk in the footprints
of the past, without producing anything new.’

From this interview Confucius returned to his
disciples, and for three days did not utter a word.
According to his own account, Laou-tsze exercised a
complete fascination over him. He felt, when con—
versing with the older philosopher, that he was in the
presence of a master mind, and the merciless criticism
of which his doctrines were the object, shook his
faith somewhat in their truth. “At his voice,” said
he, “my mouth gaped wide, my tongue protruded,
and my soul was plunged in trouble.”

'l‘o Yang-tsze, a disciple of Confucius, Laou-tsze
spoke in the same strain. “The spots of the tiger
and of the leopard, and the agility of the monkey, are
that which exposes them to the arrows of the hunter.”
And in reply to a question concerning the administra-
tion of the illustrious kings of antiquity, he said,
“Such was the administration of the illustrious
kings, that their merits overspread the empire un-
known to themselves ; the influence of their example
extended to all beings; they effected the happiness

of the people without letting them feel their presence.
3 Their virtue was so sublime that human speech is
unable to express it; they lived in an impenetrable
retreat, and were absorbed in Taou.”

I 86 TAOUISM.

CHAPTER II.
THE TAOU TIH KING.

IT has been stated above that on leaving China on
his last impenetrable journey, Laou-tsze put into the
hands of the Guardian of the Pass the results of his
many years of lonely meditation in the shape of a
book containing five thousand characters. Probably
no widely—spread religion was ever founded on so
small a base. Like an inverted pyramid, the ever-
increasing growth of T aouist literature and supersti-
tious doctrines which make up the sum of modern
Taouism, rests on this small volume as its ultimate
support. We say “ultimate ” advisedly, for other
works have long surpassed it in popularity. Its philo-
sophical speculations are far beyond the reach of the
ordinary reader, and even scholars are obliged to
confess that they have but a general idea of the
meaning of the old recluse. “It is not easy,” says
one of the best-known native commentators, “to
explain clearly the more profound passages of Laou-
tsze 3 all that science is able to do is to give the
general sense.” 1

To European scholars the difficulty is even greater.
As Rémusat remarks in his Mémoz're a’e Lao-ism,
“The text is so full of obscurity, we have so few

‘ Julien, Introduction to “Le Livre de la Voie, et de la
'Vertu.”

THE TAOU TIH KING. 187

means of acquiring a perfect understanding of it, so
little knowledge of the circumstances to which the
author makes allusion 5 we are, in a word, so distant
in all respects from the ideas under the influence of
which he wrote, that it would be temerity to pretend
to reproduce exactly the sense which he had in view,
when that sense is beyond our grasp.” It is, how-
ever, always easy to affix a plausible interpretation to
that which is not susceptible of any definite explana-
tion, and consequently a host of commentators and
translators have arisen, who find in the Taou-tZ/z-
king confirmation of their preconceived theories of
his meaning, and of their preconceived wishes on
his behalf. The early Jesuit missionaries found in
its pages a prophetic knowledge of the truths of
Christianity. According to Montucci, “the principal
object of the Taoza-tZ/z-lcz'rzg is to establish a singular
knowledge of a Supreme Being in three persons.
Many passages speak so clearly of a triune God, that
to any one reading this book it will be plain that the
mystery of the Holy Trinity was revealed to the
Chinese more than five centuries before the coming
of Jesus Christ.”

Amiot thought he recognised the Three Persons of
the Trinity in the first phrase of the fourteenth chapter
of the Taou-tZ/z-kz'ng, which he translated thus: “That
which is as though it were visible, and yet cannot be
seen, is called K/zz' (to be read I) 3 that which is
audible, and yet speaks not to the ears, is called flz';
that which is as though it were within one’s reach,
and yet cannot be touched, is called I/Vez'.” Rémusat
went even beyond Amiot, and recognised in the three

1 88 ’I‘AOUISM.

characters I, 1%, W22, the word Jehovah. “These
three characters,” said he, “have no sense as em-
ployed here, they simply represent sounds foreign to
the Chinese language, whether they are articulated as
one word (IHV), or whether the initials I., H., V., are
taken separately. . . . The trigrammatic name I-Hi-
Wei, or IHV, being, as we have seen, foreign to the
Chinese language, it is interesting to discover the
origin. This word appears to me to be to all intents
identical to that of IaJ: (a variant of the Hebrew
tetragramme run", Jéhova), the name which, ac-
cording to Diodore of Sicily, the Jews gave to God.
It is very remarkable that the most exact transcrip-
tion of this celebrated name is found in a Chinese
book, for Laou-tsze has preserved the aspiration
which the Greeks were not able to express with the
letters of their alphabet. On the other side we find
the Hebrew tetragramme reduced to three letters in
the TaoquVz-kz’ng. This doubtless makes no difference
in the pronunciation, for to all appearance the last
n of WW (Jéhova) is not pronounced. . . . The
fact of a Hebrew or Syrian word in a Chinese book, a
fact hitherto unknown, is certainly singular enough,
and it remains, I think, completely proved, though
there remains much to be done before it can be
satisfactorily explained. . . . This name, so well pre- .
served in the Taou-z‘zV/z-kz'ng that it may be said that
the Chinese had a better knowledge and a more exact
transcript than the Greeks, is a particularity truly
characteristic. It appears to me impossible to doubt
that this name did not originate in this form in
Syria, and I regard it as an incontestable proof of the

THE TAOU ’I‘IH KING. 189'

route which the ideas which we call Pythagorian and
Platonian have followed in reaching China.

But putting aside these fanciful speculations, we find
that in the Tam-12% king Laou—tsze has elaborated his
idea of the relations existing between the Universe
and that which he calls Tam. The primary mean-
ing of this name of a thing which he declares to be
“without name,” is “The Way” 5 hence it has ac-
quired the symbolical meanings of “the right course
of conduct,” “ reason,” and it also signifies “the
Word” (Logos). By all these meanings it has been
severally rendered by the translators of Laou-tsze’s
celebrated work. In support of each rendering it is
possible to adduce quotations from the text, but none
is the equivalent of Laou-tsze’s T aou. The word Taou
is not the invention of Laou-tsze. It was constantly
in'the mouth of Confucius, and with him it meant the
“Way.” The Buddhists also used it in the sense of
“ Intelligence,” and called their co-religionists Taou-jin,
or “ Men of Intelligence.” If we were compelled to
adopt a single word to represent the Taou of Laou-
tsze, we should prefer the sense in which it is used by
Confucius, “the Way,” that is, péfloBog. “If I were
endowed with prudence, I should walk in the great
Taou. . . . The great Taou is exceedingly plain, but
the people like the foot-paths,” said Laou-tsze
(chapter 53). But it is more than the way. It is the
way and the way-goer. It is an eternal road ; along it
all beings and things walk 3 but no-being’ made it, for
it is Being itself ; it is everything and nothing, and the
cause and effect of all. All things originate from Taou,
conform to Taou, and to Taou at last they~retunL

‘ 1 90 TAOUISM.

Taou is impalpable. You look at it, and cannot see
it. You listen to it, and you cannot hear it. You try
to touch it, and you cannot reach it. You use it, and
cannot exhaust it. It is not to be expressed in words.
It is still and void 3 it stands alone and changes not;
it circulates everywhere and is not endangered. It is
ever inactive, and yet leaves nothing undone. From
it phenomena appear, through it they change, in it
they disappear. Formless, it is the cause of form.
Nameless, it is the origin of heaven and earth 3 with
a name, it is the mother of all things. It is the ethical
nature of the good man and the principles of his
action. If we had then to express the meaning of
T (2021, we should describe it as (I) the Absolute, the
totality of Being and Things 3 (2) the phenomenal
world and its order 3 and (3) the ethical nature of the
good man and the principle of his action.

The circumlocution with which it is necessary
to express the meaning of this one word Taou is an
illustration of the difficulty of elucidating the obscure
and concisely-worded pages of the Taozz-li/z king.
The subjects of which that work treats, as Mr. \Vatters
very justly remarks, “ even when discussed in a clear
and plain style and with a rich language, are found to
be difficult of elucidation3 and how much more so
must they be when discussed in short enigmatical
sentences? Laou-tsze, like all other philosophers
who live and write in the infancy of a'literary language,
had only a very imperfect medium through which to
communicate his doctrines. The language "of his
time was rude and imperfect, utterly unfit to express
the deep thoughts of a meditative mind 3 and hence it
could at best but ‘half reveal andfi‘half conceal the soul

THE TAOU TIH KING. 191

within.’ ” Its short sentences are doubtless but the
texts of the sermons that were preached by the old
philosopher to his disciples. To us these vim? 710a:
commentaries and glosses are lost, and only the
headings remain.

Like Pythagoras, Laou—tsze was in China the first
great awakener and suggester of thought. Unlike
Confucius, whose mission it was to revive in a
degenerate age the teachings of the ancient sages,
Laou-tsze had no remains ready to hand from which
to draw his inspirations. Every part of his system,
from its first conception down to its minutest details,
was the legitimate offspring of his own brain. The
Tam-2‘27; Icing, therefore, to all appearance, stands
out alone without history and without antecedents,
possessing the only materials for its interpretation
within its own pages.

The obscurity which thus surrounds the writing of
Laou-tsze has given rise to many false conceptions of
the object which the old philosopher had in view.
There is with most people a tendency to seek below
the surface for some occult and far-fetched’ explana-
tion of a difficulty rather than adopt the plain inter-
pretation which lies on the surface before them. To
this process Laou-tsze’s writings have been very
generally subjected. In them, it has been said, are
to be traced the outpourings of a misanthrope who
advocated an ascetic seclusion from the cares and
turmoils of the world as well as from even its sights
and sounds. Some have accused him of writing he
knew not what, while others, as has been seen, have
credited him with having forestalled many of the great
truths of Christianity.

r 92 TAOUISM.

An impartial student of his pages, however, will
discover that his, like that of Confucius, is a purely
politico-ethical system. But unlike Confucius, instead
of trying to reform the empire by the imposition of
forms and regulations, his object was to lead people
back to the state of primitive society before forms
were, and before regulations existed. “When the
world,” said he, “ has many prohibitory enactments,
the peOple become more and more poor. When
the people have many warlike weapons, the govern-
ment gets more and more into trouble. The
~more craft and ingenuity men have, the greater the
number of fantastic things that come out. And
as works of cunning art are more displayed, thieves
multiply.” Far from being the misanthrope he
is said by some to have been, his writings dis-
play a kindly sympathy for his fellow-men, and a
yearning desire for their social and political im- ‘
provement.

Self-abnegation is his cardinal rule for both the
sovereign and the people. A running stream is the
favourite metaphor he employs to express the ideal
course of conduct. While its waters fertilize, cleanse,
and refresh, it runs to a place which all disdain. And
thus the sage sovereign when he wishes to be above
the people, will, by his words, place himself below
them. When he wishes to be before the people, he
must, in his person, keep behind them. In this way,
while he occupies a position above the people, they
do not feel his weight, and while he is before the
people they suffer no inconvenience. The whole
empire, therefore, delights to exalt him, and no one is

{I-

THE TAOU TIH KING. 193

offended.1 “Therefore,” the Sage says, “he who
béarsthe reproach of his country shall be called the
lord of the land, and he who bears the calamities of
his country shall be called the king of the world.” 3

It was by such gentle suasion as this that he would
govern the empire and recall men from the sway of
the fierce passions which had been aroused by princely
jealousies, base tyrannies, and unruly violence, to a
state of primitive simplicity, when the “Great Taou ”
was the rule of life, and before philanthropy and
justice had acquired names; when perfect concord
reigned in families, and before filial piety and fatherly
compassion began ; when the State was perfectly
ordered, and before patriots were known.3 Continu-
ing the same train of thought, Laou-tsze directs an
attack against the Confucianists, the Pharisees of the
age. “Abandon your wisdom,” said he, “and cast
away your prudence, and the people will be a bun—
dred-fold more happy. Renounce your philanthropy,
and throw aside your justice, and the people will
return to filial piety and fatherly compassion. Re-
nounce your cleverness, and forego your gains, and
thieves will disappear. . . . And appear in your own
unadorned simplicity, preserve your purity, curb your
selfishness, and curtail your ambitious desires.“

But though _Laou-_t_s__ze thus condemned some of
the teachings of Confucius, he'endorsed others. It
is repeatedly laid down in the 5/200 K'z'ng that a truly
virtuous sovereign who is served by upright minis-

' Chap. lxvi. 9 Chap. lxxviii.
3 Chap. xviii. ‘ Chap. xix.

r94 TAOUISM.

ters will by the force of his example produce an
effect upon his people, which neither the enactment
of laws nor the infliction of punishment will be
able to accomplish. And to this condition he
desired to see his distracted country return. On
the loud-mouthed politicians who raised their voices
at every street-corner to proclaim their own wisdom
and the wickedness of their adversaries, he sought to
impress the lesson that in much speaking there was
much folly, and that it was better to keep the lips
closed than to talk with a glib tongue; that many
meddlers only further add to the entanglements of
the State, which it should be the duty of every true
citizen to help to unravel ; and that the glare of
factious politics could be tempered only by the ex-
ercise of modesty and self-emptiness.1 ' __ '
Thus it was in the days of old, to which he is as
fond of referring as was Confucius. Then those who
practised Taou sought not to make the people clever,
but to make them simple, not to encourage them in
hyprocrisy and fraud, but to teach them the true
virtues of honesty and unselfishness. Such men
were blessings to their countries and honours to the
world.2 But in his day, he complains that men
gave up the substance and followed after the shadow.
They claimed the possession of virtues of which they
had but the outside veneer. “As for me,” said
Laou-tsze, “I have three precious things which I
hold fast and prize; namely, compassion, economy, and
humility. Being compassionate I can be brave-being
economical I can be liberal, and being humble I can

1 Chap. lvi. 9 Chap. lxv.

 

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120

 

 

 

 

116

London: Published by the Society for anmo‘iing Christian Knowledge.

 

 

THE TAOU TIH KING. 195

become the chief of men. But in the present day men
give up compassion, and cultivate only courage; they
give up economy, and aim only at liberality ; they give
up the last place, and seek only the first: it is their
death. Compassion is that which is victorious in the
attack and secure in the defence. When Heaven
would save a man, it encircles him with compassion.”

In such utterances as these Laou-tsze showed him-
self to be as superior to Confucius as the Christian
dispensation is to the Mosaic law. Confucius would
have the outside of the platter cleansed: he would
have every rite and ceremony, whether at court, in
official life, or within the family circle, scrupulously
observed, down to the number of meals to be eaten,
and the posture to be assumed in bed. But Laou-
tsze went deeper, and drawing an analogy from the
unalterable law of nature, under which in all created
things there take place constantly-recurring alter-
nations from strength to weakness, and from weak-
ness to strength, he taught the lesson which has
been consecrated by Christ, that “he who exalteth
himself shall be abased, and he who humbleth him-
self shall be exalted.” “He who knows the light,
and at the same time keeps the shade, will ,be the
whole world’s model. Being the whole world’s
model, eternal virtue will not miss him, and he will
return home to the Absolute. He who knows the
glory, and at the same time keeps to shame, will be
the whole world’s valley. Being the whole world’s
valley, eternal virtue will fill him, and he will return
home to Taou.”1

‘ Chap. xxviii.
0 2

I 96 TAOUISM.

Laou-tsze held with Confucius that man’s nature
was good, and that he who avoided the snare of the
world, and acted in all things in conformity with the
uncontaminated instincts of that nature, would possess
Taou, and would eventually return home to Taou.

.zIt is the wisdom of this world, it is the knowledge of
good and evil, which is the ruin of man. Let him
but return to an age of primitive simplicity, when he
finds the highest pleasure and contentment in the
comforts of his home, when he eats the fruit of the
labour of his hands, when he knows no wants, and is
disturbed by no cares, and he will then fulfil the
duties of a man and of a citizen in their highest
sense. Better that he should be ignorant than that
he should possess this world’s wisdom 3 better that
he should use knotted cords to express his thoughts
than that he should have the pen of a Confucius ,1
better that he should be still and retiring than that
he should be restless and striving. The philosophers
of old were timid, like one crossing a stream; they
were cautious, like one who dreads his neighbour;
they were circumspect, like a man from home; they
effaced themselves, like ice that is about to melt;
they were simple, like unwrought wood; they were
vacant, like a valley; they were dim, like muddy
water.‘~’ Therefore their reward was long life, and
their virtue was complete.

But the days of a man who strives must necessarily
be short. A violent wind will not outlast the
morning, neither will a pouring rain outlast the day.3

‘ Chap. lxxx. ’ Chap. xv. 3 Chap. xxiii.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 197

And so with all human effort, the greater it is the
less enduring it will be. Heaven and earth do not
aim after life; therefore heaven is long, and earth is
lasting. The sage puts himself last, and is therefore
first; he abandons himself, and is therefore pre-
served.1 It is better, therefore, to rest contented
than to strive after fulness. As when gold and gems
filla hall none can protect them, so wealth and
honour with pride bring their own punishment.2 For
there is no solidity about these things ; they are but
an outward show, and possess none of the reality
which belongs to Taou. Thus it is that when Taou
is lost, then comes virtue; when virtue is lost, then
comes benevolence; when benevolence is lost, then
comes justice; and when justice is lost, then comes
propriety. For propriety is the mere skeleton of
fidelity and faith, and the precursor of confusion.3

To bring the people back to this state of Arcadian-
simplicity should be the main object of the sovereign.
Their good must be his chief and only care, and as
it rests within his power to confer every blessing
upon them, so the responsibility belongs to him of
every evil which overtakes them. Everything for the
people, and everything by the people, is the maxim
of his very undespotic government. The ruler
receives the appointment of Heaven, and the people
endorse the election. As long as he remains faithful
to his trust, and obedient to the dictates of his ideal
nature, his throne is secure to him; but the same
powers that make can unmake ; and if he fall away

‘ Chap. vii. 2 Chap. ix. 3 Chap. xxviii.

r 98 TAOUISM.

from Tam, the countenance of Heaven will be with-
drawn, and the people will throw off their allegiance
to him. Thus it is that “nobles regard the com-
monalty as their origin, and men of high estate look
upon what is ignoble as their foundation and support.
This is the reason why kings and princes style them-
selves ‘ orphans,’ ‘lonely men,’ and ‘men devoid of
virtue.’ Is not this an acknowledgment that they
are rooted in their inferiors P Deny it ! Why, a cart
taken to pieces is no cart. A sage does not wish to
be esteemed as jade, nor to be treated with contempt
as a stone.”

A wise ruler will remember that “a nation is a
growth, not a manufacture,” and that the spiritual
weapons of this world cannot be formed by laws and
regulations. He will strive, therefore, to empty the
hearts of his subjects, and to fill their stomachs ; to
weaken their wills, and to strengthen their bones ; to
keep the people from the desire and the knowledge
of evil, and to keep in subjection those who have
tasted of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
He will act inaction, and so nothing will be
ungoverned.1 This is all that is required to secure
the greatest amount of happiness to a people.
Prohibitory enactments and constant intermeddling
in political and social matters merely tend to produce
the evils they are intended to avert. If the ruler do
but love quietness, avoid law-making, and be free
from lusts, everything will spontaneously submit to
,him 5 heaven and earth will combine to send down

‘ Chap. iii.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 199

upon him refreshing dew, and the people will of
themselves harmonize together.1 To interfere with
the freedom of the people is to deny the existence of
Taou in their midst, and to make them the slaves of
rules rather than the freemen of principles. It was
~ thus that the rulers of antiquity governed their king-
doms, and in those “brave days of old” so light
were the hands that held the reins that the pe0ple
only knew of the existence of their superiors. But
in the next age, when sovereigns began to pass as
sages, they became attached to them and flattered
them. In the next, when they began to boast of
wisdom, the people dreaded them ; and, last of all,
when they talked of benevolence and justice, the
people despised them. Thus the peOple lost all the
naturally controlling influences which had been
inherent in them, and became dependent on laws
and regulations for the maintenance of their virtue.
But as these, when Tam; is lost, are as phantoms,
leading men farther and farther from the right way,
the people gradually fell lower and lower in the
social scale, until the country reached the state of
disorganization and ruin which existed in his day.
The violence of unruly men was the main feature
of that period. The wildest passions, instigated by
ambition and fostered by greed, were let loose upong ._
society. No rights were recognised and no institutions
were held sacred by men who sought only their own
selfish ends at the expense of others. War and strife,
rapine and plunder, were rife throughout the land

' Chap. xxxii.

2 OO TAOUISM.

Princes, disregarding the true welfare and the neces-
sary protection of their subjects, enforced levies, re-
quisitioned supplies, and marched their armies
through the standing crops to meet their enemies
beyond their frontiers, leaving behind them a remnant
of the people ruined by their exactions and rendered
desperate by want. N o wonder, then, that the man
who had resigned his office as Keeper of the Archives
at the court of Chow, rather than sanction by his
presence the iniquities perpetrated by the sovereign
of that State, raised his voice with vehemence against
the wild violence of the time, against the sin of
giving rein to desire, against the misery of discon-
tent, and against the dire calamities entailed by the
desire of possessing.1

Looking around on the untilled lands and deserted
homesteads of his native State, he points out that
where legions are quartered, briers and thorns grow,
and that in the track of large armies follow want and
famine.2 Instead of the grain-bearing fields ploughed
by farm-horses, are waste commons used for breeding
and rearing war-horses.3 Ploughshares are converted
into those “instruments of ill-omen,” the weapons of
war. The left hand, the weak side, which in times
of peace is considered the place of honour, is deserted
for the side of the strong right hand, with which war-
riors deal death and destruction around them. To
be on the side of peace is but to earn contempt from
men whose greatest boast is that they have trodden
underfoot their enemies and robbed them of their
lands and treasures.

‘ Chap. xlvi. 9 Chap. xxx. 3 Chap. xlvi.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 20I

How different to this is the conduct of a superior
may; _Peace is his highest aim, and the life of his
fellow-creatures is his highest care. He takes up his
weapon as a last resource only, when every other ex-
pedient has failed, and fights bravely, but only when
it is to effect some good purpose. “He ventures
nothing for the sake of power. He strikes a decisive
blow at the right time, but does not boast of his suc-
cess. He strikes a decisive blow and does not pride
himself on it : He strikes a decisive blow and is not
puffed up.” On the contrary, he mourns over the
destruction of human life with bitter tears, and lays
down his arms as soon as the necessity of using them
is past. After the campaign is over, he takes his place
on the right, as though he were at a funeral, for he
feels that he has been instrumental in destroying the
lives of his fellow-men, and he desires to mourn
over their deaths.1 A truly great general is no lover
of war, nor is he revengeful and passionate. He
orders the battle, but prefers not to lead the van 3 he
would rather await the attack than lead the assault.
If all men were thus minded, there would be no
rushing into the ranks ; there would be no baring the
arm, as those eager for the fight 3 there would be no
charging the enemy in reckless haste, and there
would be no grasping of weapons until the enemy
were upon them. A good general never lightly en-
gages in a. war, for he knows well that there is no
surer way of losing one’s treasure than this. And
therefore it is that when opposing warriors join in
battle, the compassionate is always the conqueror.2

‘ Chap. xxxi. 2 Chap. lxix.

202 TAOUISM.

In the same spirit, when he returns after the con-
clusion of a victorious peace, he knows full well that
there must remain some ill-feeling against him, and
he therefore lets matters rest. He fulfils his part of
the treaty and exacts nothing from the other side.
He attends only to his own promises and his own
claims.1 If after this sort the people of a country
were governed and led, though they might have
armour they would have no occasion to put it on,
and the deadly peril which follows the display of
warlike weapons as surely as death overtakes the
fish which is taken out of the water, would be
avoided.

Laou-tsze’s utterances on these points contain
words of wisdom for all time, and apply with equal
force to the kingdoms of the Western world at the
present day as to the States of China two thousand
years ago. Within the last few years we have seen
wars “lightly ” undertaken, which have ended in the
“cost of treasure ” to the aggressor. We have seen
oppressive terms of peace made, which have left
behind a bitter sense of wrong; and we have seen
adva’ntage taken of a fallen foe which has ended in
disaster to the conqueror. It may possibly be
thought that in many ways Laou-tsze’s ideals are
impracticable and unsuited for the very material
world about us. But the times in which he lived
were exceptionally disordered, the evils of which we
have only but a faint idea from the records handed
down to us, were flourishing around him on every

‘ Chap. lxxix.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 203

side. With his own eyes he saw the misery created
by the restless ambition of the princes and the un-
restrained licentiousness of the people. “Alas ! ” said
he, “the people will never cease from their madness,
but are full of ambitious desires.” For such a state
of things an heroic remedy was, in his opinion, neces-
sary. Confucius had thought to embody the teach—
ings of the ancient sages in a minute ritual, and had
failed. Laou-tsze strove to set aside all forms and
ceremonies and to get behind them to the principles
on which they rested, and he also failed. In troublous
times, when men’s passions have broken loose, and
the law of “every man for himself” is supreme, a
teacher who desires to check the pursuit of selfish
aims arid of personal aggrandisement must have
some compensating benefit to offer in exchange for
the self-sacrifice entailed in foregoing schemes which
present a prospect of immediate and substantial ad-
vantage. But neither of them had any more tempt-
ing promise to hold out than that virtue is its own
reward. It is true that Laou- tsze promises to the
man who follows Taou that he shall gain such an
insight into the workings of Taou as is withheld
from him who has not conquered his passions ,- that
he shall see the small beginnings of things, and
shall possess a light which shall bring him home to
its own brightness; that he shall be “like an infant
whom poisonous reptiles will not sting, wild beasts
will not seize, and birds of prey will not strike ”
that his days shall be prolonged in the land, not by
watching carefully over his own welfare, but by dis-
regarding every selfish interest; and when, in the

204 TAOUISM.

fulness of years, death at last comes, he need fear
no evil, for he is in no danger of perishing. As he
comes forth from farm so he will return to Taou,
and will endure as long as Taou endures or as
heaven lasts: with delight the eternal mother of all
things will receive him into herself, and he will return
home to a still eternity. '

The same reasons which made Laou-tsze an enemy
to war and all violence, rendered him opposed to
capital punishment. But in addition to this he held
that if a State were well governed the necessity for
capital, or indeed, any other punishment, could not
arise. If the people could be taught to love simpli-
city and purity, crime would cease to exist. But it is
the striving after wealth, learning, and position which
disorders men’s minds, rouses their passions, and
causes them to think lightly of death. By a people
who are addicted to pleasure and to the gratification
of their passions, life is never highly esteemed. It is
only by those who recognise in life a serious purpose,
and have a firm faith in a future existence, that it is .
invested with a real value. Men who live only for
amusement, or for the indulgence of their selfish
caprices, are willing enough to resign their being when
their appetites fail them, from whatever cause, and
when their ambitious schemes fall to the ground. And
when once a people has reached this stage of reckless-
ness, no punishment will be effectual to prevent their
rushing into sin. “When the people do not fear
death, to what purpose is death still used to over-
come them P ” But if there be aman worthy of death,
there is always the “Great Executioner” in whose

. THE TAOU TIH KING. 205

hands are the issues of life and death. Whom he will
he slays, and whom he will he keepeth alive; and
who is man that he should interfere between the evil-
doer and his judge ? “Now for any man to act the
executioner’s part is to hew out the Great Architect’s
work for him. And he who undertakes to hew for
the Great Architect rarely fails to cut his hands.”

But Laou-tsze goes beyond this and says, “Judge
not your fellow-men. Be content to know yourself.
Be chaste, but do not chasten others. Be strictly
correct yourself, and do not cut and carve other
people. And learn not to impute wickedness to the
unfortunate. If "one man dies and another is pre-
served/alive, why point at either of them as the object
of Heaven’s hatred? A truly good man loves all
men and rejects none, he respects all things and
rejects nothing; he associates with good men and
interchanges instruction with them, but bad men are
the materials-on which he works, and to bring such
back to Taou is the great object of his life. But he
“who’lionours not his instructor, and he who loves
not his material, though accounted wise, are greatly
deluded.”

2 06 TAOUISM.

CHAPTER .III.
THE TAOU TIH KING (com‘z'mzea’).

ON the subject of ethics Laou- tsze speaks out plainly;
but In forming an estimate of the moral worth of his
maxims it is again necessa1y to remember that he
was less a general teacher, though much that he
taught applies to the world at large, than a protestant
against the particular vices of his time. He saw men
ambitious and violent, and to such he preached
modesty and self-restraint ; he saw men greedy in-the
pursuit of gain, and licentious, and for the benefitof:
such he advocated the virtues of self-abnegation and
continence. But here he stopped. Of courage, truth,
and honesty he says little, and in this respect appears
to fall short of Confucius, who laid great stress on
these virtues. Possibly Laou-tsze was content to
know that the greater included the less, and that if
he could persuade men to be modest, self-denying,
and virtuous, there would be no need to preach to
them of either truth, honesty, or courage. But if he
fell behind Confucius in this, he far surpassed him
when he proclaimed the golden rule of Christianity,
“ Recompense evil with good.”1 To this level

1 Chap. lxiii.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 207

Confucius deliberately refused to rise, and when
asked his opinion on the sentiment expressed
by his contemporary, his matter-of-fact mind failed,
as we have seen, to comprehend that great
maxim.-

Like Confucius, Laou-tsze speaks of his ideal man
asthe Sage. In him resides every virtue. He is
magnanimous, he is catholic, he is the equal of
heaven, he is the embodiment of Tao”, and eternity
isii’s.‘1 To reach this lofty state should be the
desire and object of all men, and to this end they
should be modest and retiring, not making them-
selves great, and thus they will be able to achieve
greatness. To know others is to be wise, but he
who k_no_ws,,him$elf is enlightened. He who over-
comes others is strong, but he who conquers him-
self is mighty. He who has a contented mind is
\rich. He who acts with energy has a purpose.
He who does not act contrary to his nature con-
tinues long, and he who dies and perishes not enjoys
eternity.2

Among men it is common to respect the strong and
to despise the weak. But they forget that out of
weakness comes forth strength, and that the tender
things of this world overcome the hard. Of all the
weak things in the world nothing exceeds water, and
yet beyond all those who attack hard and strong
things it is superior. Does not the soft and flexible
creeper tyrannize over and sometimes destroy the
strong tree round which it twines P And what rock is

1 Chap. xvi. 9 Ibid. xxxiii.

208 TAOUISM.

there which is able to withstand the constant dripping
of water? All the difficult things in this world must
originate in what is easy, and the great things must all
spring from what is small. “ The sage therefore never
attempts what is great, and hence is able to accomplish
great things. He who lightly assents will rarely keep
his word, and he who has many easy things will have
many difficulties. Therefore the sage views things as
difficult, and never has any difficulty.” In other words,
he foresees the evil day coming, and by careful watch-
fulness provides against it. He recollects that the
tree which fills the arms grew from a slender twig, and
that the castle of nine stories was raised from a mound
of earth ; and he therefore grapples with his business
before it has taken form, and regulates affairs before
disorder comes. That which is brittle is easy broken,
and that which is minute is easily dispersed. He is
as careful in finishing a matter as he is in beginning
it, and therefore always brings it to a successful
issue.1

A man who is wise, therefore, will guard against the
small beginnings of evil, whether in his own heart or
in the world around him, and will thus achieve great
things. He will destroy the seed, and thus demolish
the huge forest tree which would otherwise grow from
it. He will abase himself, and thus avoid the crush-
ing defeats to which overweening pride is subjected.
He will humble himself, and so shall be preserved
entire; he will bend himself, and so shall be
straightened; he will abase himself, and so shall be

‘ Chap. lxiv.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 209

filled 3 he will diminish himself, and so shall succeed.1
He will empty himself of passions, and will then
behold the spiritual essence of Tao”. He will care-
fully keep “the inner man,” and shall thus return
home entire to his origin. He will attach himself to
what is real, and throw on one side what is merely
showy and superficial. He will cherish compassion,
economy, and humility.2

In the eyes of Laou-tsze, as well as of Confucius, a
glib talker was a suspected person. A man on tiptoe
cannot stand still, and so a man who is always seek-
ing prominence in talking, as in other things, cannot
remain quiet and self-contained. Shut your lips, is
his advice, and close the portals of your eyes and
ears, and as long as you live you will have no trouble 3
but open your lips and meddle with things, and as
long as you live you will multiply difficulties.3 The
great object of every man should be to possess him-
' self, andflfi/span only bedone by avoiding all excesses,
and gaiety,-and splendour. A man who is self-dis-
playing does not really shine 3 he who is self-approving
is not held in esteem 3 he who is self-praising has no
merit3 and he who is self-exalting does not stand
high.

Learning finds no more favour at the hands of Laou-
tsze than with the Quietists. By both alike it is con-
demned and contemned. It is the enemy of that
simplicity and innocence which are the truest
ornaments of a nation. In the days of old when
sovereigns possessed Tao”, and when they ruled over

’ Chap. xxii. 2 Ibid. lxvii. 3 Ibid.
P

2 IO TAOUISM.

a peaceful and contented empire, they strove not to
make people bright, but to make them simple —_not to
encourage wisdom, but to make them content. 1 They
recognised that 1n much learning there was much vexa-
tion, that education gave rise to an unhealthy and in-
jurious activity, and that while men disputed ~about
the use of words they forgot the difference between
good and evil.2 The highest kind of knowledge is to
be gained without going beyond one’s own door ;
indeed, the farther a man goes away the less he has of
that supreme knowledge, the knowledge of himself.
“There is no occasion even as much as to peep
through the window to see celestial Taou,” 3 and the
more men seek after knowledge the further they
wander from that state of primitive s’implicTty-which
existed in the golden age of the world "when men fol-
lowed without effort the instincts of their pure and
holy nature. If knowledge of any kind were needed
it would be' to govern a kingdom, but a kingdom is
best governed when left alone. If the ruler but, love
quietness, and be free from lusts, the people will walk
in the path of righteousness, and will of themselves
become simple-minded;1r But happiness is ever built
up on the back of misery, and misery is ever lurking
under happiness. It is easy, therefore, for a ruler, by
want of discretion, by ruthlessly interfering with the
freedom of the people, or by educational activity, to
bring disaster upon them. A sage might govern the
world without trouble, for he knows how to be mode-

1 Chap. lxv. 2 Ibid. xx.
3 Ibid. xlvii. 4 Ibid. lvii.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 2II

rate; not clever, humble ; not learned, and still, not.
active. '

“ He who regards his greatest fulness as emptiness
may employ himself without exhaustion. His greatest
uprightness is as want of rectitude. His greatest skill
is as stupidity. His greatest eloquence is as stammer—
ing. Activity conquers cold, and quietness conquers
heat 3 but there is a purity and quietude by which one
may rule the whole world.” 1

Of a personal God Laou—tsze knew nothing, as far
as we may judge from the Talon-2‘27; icing; and
indeed a belief in such a being would be in opposi-
tion to the whole tenour of his philosophy. There is
no room for a supreme God in his system, as is shown
by the only mention he makes of a heavenly ruler.
“ Taou,” he says, “is empty; in Operation, exhaust-
less. _ In its depth it scans the future of all things. It
blunts sharp angles. It unravels disorders. It softens
the glare. It shares the dust. In tranquillity it
seems ever to remain. I know not whose son it is.
It appears to, have been before God”? Taou_is Un-
conditioned Being, which, as an abstraction too subtle
for words, is the origin of heaven and earth, includ-
ing God himself, and when capable of being ex-
pressed by name, is the mother of all things.3

'Like a loving parent, it watches with a providential
care over all created beings. From its portals they
issuedV‘fOrth intb'life, and through all the changes and
chances of existence it continues on their right hand
and on their left, nourishing in love, imparting life to

1 Chap. xlv. 9 Ibid. iv. 3 Ibid. i.
P 2

2 I 2 TAOUISM.

all, and refusing none. Though before all, above all,
and in all, it yet assumes no authority, and though
all things submit to it, it does not regard itself as
their master.1 Though it completes, cherishes, and
covers all things, it makes no display of strength, but
accepts weakness as its characteristic. It does not
strive with man. Those who possess it find in it a
beneficent and almighty protector, but those who
spurn it are left to find out for themselves the folly of
their way. “ Lay hold of the great form of T (201/, and
the whole world will go to you. It will go to you,
and will suffer no injury 3 and its rest and peace will
be glorious.”2 Even during lifetime it is possible to
possess oneself of Taou, and the creature may thus-
become identified with the creator through the an-
nihilation of self.

It is impossible not to recognise the resemblance
between the return to T (1025 and the entrance of the
Buddhists into Nirvana. But there is this important
difference between the two, that whereas the entrance
into Nirvana is the extinction of existence, the return
to T aou is but the recall of the finite to the infinite,
the creature to the creator.

As far as the Tam-2‘17; lei/1g furnishes evidence,
Laou-tsze had only a shadowy faith in spirits, and
those he recognised were of an inferior kind, such as
bow before the presence of one who follows Tao”.
Like Confucius, he held that the Sage had rule over
the spirits of the world. Let but a Sage, therefore,
sit upon the throne, and the reflection of his

‘ Chap. xxxiv. 2 Ibid. xxxv.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 213

virtue will cause the demons to hide their diminished
heads, and this, not because they lack the power for
mischief, but because evil can never conquer right.1

His was not a spiritual religion, but was a species
of Mysticism, begotten of heart-weariness at the
hopeless prospect he saw before him in his country, and
of an ardent longing for that repose which he found
it impossible to secure among men whose one object
in life was to secure their own advantage at all
hazards and in defiance of all right. For years he
communed with his own heart, and was still ; but at
last the spirit burned within him, and he gave vent
to his heart-searching protest against the literalism,
hypocrisy, formality, and scholasticism of his time.
He had no compliments to exchange with men like
Confucius, who paraded their Virtue before the world,
and boasted of the excellence of their words and
deeds. In his eyes, “one pure act of internal resig~
nation was more worth than a hundred thousand
exercises of one’s own will.” And who will not say
that he was right?

As has already been stated, Laou-tsze’s was pri-
marily a politico-ethical system. So he himself
regarded it, and so it was treated by his immediate
followers. But whether it was the outcome of a
deeper speculative belief on the origin and nature of
the universe, or whether it led up to it, we have
scattered throughout the T aou-z‘flz-kz'rzg evidence that
Laou-tsze had established in his own mind a com-
plete theory on the existence of the material world
and the constitution of man.

1 Chap. 1x.

2 I 4 / TAOUISM.

According to him, all existing beings came forth
from T (2021, the “abyss mother,” the “mother gf__al__l
things.” In the beginning was Taou, and when as
yet it was an abstraction, inexpressible in words, he
regarded it as potential existence, or, as he expresses
it elsewhere, as non-existence. “ From this point of
view it is imperceptible to man, and can be spoken of
only negatively 3 and so such terms as non—existence,
the unlimited or infinite, the non-exerting, the matter-
less, are the expressions used with reference to Taou
so considered.” 1 It is thus the equivalent of chaos,
and is the beginning of heaven and earth. With
this creation it passes from potential to actual exis-
tence, and out of non-existence comes-existence.
But Whether as potential or actual existence, it is yet
Talon, and existence and non-existence are regarded
as one, for though two phenonl‘ixnally, they are one
nominally. Considered as potential existence, Taou
is “empty,” “calm,” “void,” “shapeless,” and “im-
material.” “Above it is not bright, below it is not
obscure. Boundless in its operation, it cannot be
named. Returning it goes home into nothing. This
I call the appearance of non-appearance, the form of
nothingness. This is what baffles investigation.” It
is invisible, inaudible, and unreachable. At the same .
time, it contains potentially all life, form, and sub-
stance, and from it proceed all created things, the
heaven above, the earth beneath, and all the inhabi-
tants of the earth.

But it does more than create. It watches over its

' Watter’s “ Lao-tzi’i,” p. 46. 2 Chap. xiv.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 215

offspring with the fondness of a parent. It enters
into the life of each individual thing 5 it penetrates the
impenetrable; it produces, nourishes, enlarges, feeds,
completes, ripens, cherishes, and covers all things.
It is the good manls glory. and__thebad man’s hope.1
It exalts the—humble and abases the pride of the
lofty. It equalises the careers of men, taking from
him who has a superabundance and giving to him
who wants.2 It blesses those who help others in ad-
versity, and gives a double portion to those who
supply the wants of the needy.3 But though all-
pervading, it works unseen 3 though ever inactive,
it leaves nothing undone. It is everything and
nothing; it is the smallest possible quantity and yet
the whole. It is the unity of the .universe, and as
such supports, strengthens, and nourishes all created
things.

The first chapter of the Taozz-z‘f/z-lez'ng tells us that -
“that which is nameless is the beginning of heaven '
and earth,” and elsewhere we are let into the secret ‘
of the processes which led up to this creation. Taou '
produced one, the first great cause; one produced two,
the male and female principles of nature; two pro-
duced three 3 and three produced all things beginning
with heaven and earth. Heaven is treated by Laou-
tsze much in the same way as by Confucius, but
with far more reserve. In the utterances of both
teachers we find the word used to designate the
material heaven as well as 'a personified heaven.
just as Confucius speaks of the Sage as being the

1 Chap. lxii. 2 Ibid. lxxvii. 3 Ibid. lxxxi.

2 r 6 TAOUISM.

equal of heaven, Laou-tsze says that he is the asso-
ciate of heaven, and that he is heaven itself.1 Heaven,
also according to him, gives laws to the earth just as
it takes its law from T (1021.2 It has no special'lo‘ve,
but regards all existing beings as grass-dogs made
for sacrificial rites, 226., for temporary purposes. It is
as unselfish as it is impartial, and because it does not
aim at life it lasts long. It is great and compassionate,
and is ever ready to become the saviour of men. But
it is also the material heaven, and maintains its exist-
tence by the “ clearness ” which is imparted to it by
its unity with farm. 4 J i- \' ’

Earth is treated much in the same way. It is in-
ferior to heaven both as a personality and._as part of
' the material universe, but it is associated with heaven
in its existence and in its relation to man. As the
material earth it is preserved from the danger of
falling to pieces by its unity with‘Ta/ou.

Next to issue fresh from the teaming womb of Taou
were all created things, thus illustrating the eternal
law of constant alternation from strength to weakness
and back again to strength, which is common to all
nature. Existence and non-existence mutually _gi-
gin_ate each other; so also difficulty and ease, long
and short, high and low, treble and bass, before and
after.3 Man also, who in his life is supple and tender,
in his death is rigid and strong. And so with all
things. When shrubs and trees which in their life
are weak and tender become withered and tough it is
a sign of their decay. When the tree has become

1 Chap. xvi. 2 Ibid. xxv. 3 Ibid. ii.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 21’]

strong it is cut down. Thus that which is strong is
laid low, and that which is weak and tender is lifted
up] The heavy is the root of the light. The still is
the ruler-of the moving. 9

All things endure for a set time and then perish. 4L
Together they came into being, and to each 18 allotted
a certain period of growth and maturit), but when
the highest point of vigour has been reached it
straightway becomes old and returns home to its root.
“This is said to be a reversion to destiny.” Empti-
ness is the only thing which endures, and this is at
the same time of the highest use. The space between
heaven and earth, for example, may be likened to a
pair of bellows, which though it is empty never col-
lapses, and which the more it is exercised the more
it brings forth. So also with the wheel of a carriage,
or an earthen vessel, or the windows and doors of a
house. In each case it is the non-existing or empty
part which is useful. The spokes and nave of the
wheel, the walls of the earthen vessel, and the frames
of the doors and windows are advantageous, but the
use of each depends on the part which is empty.
“ So then existence may be said to correspond to
gain, but non-existence to use.”3 When a thing is to
be weakened it must first be strengthened; when it
is about to be brought low, it must first be raised up 3
and that which is to be taken away from it must first
be given to it.‘L

In the superiority of non-existence over existence

‘ Chap. lxxvi. 2 Ibid. xxvi.
3 Ibid. xi. ‘ Ibid. xxxvi.

2 I 8 TAOUISM.

lies the lesson which above all others Laou-tsze
desired to impress on man. The great concern of
all men in all ages has been to take care of the
things of the body and to neglect the cultivation of
the inner man ; to seek after the gratification of sense,
and to forget the importance of the soul. And what
is the result? The five colours which so delight the
eyes not unfrequently produce blindness. The five
sounds which so enchant the ear are often the cause
of deafness. A man’s palate which at first revels in
the five tastes soon loses all sense of flavour. The
pursuit of pleasure or of ambition is equally deceptive.
Riding and hunting will drive a man mad, and things
hard to 'procure bring evil upon their possessors.
“Therefore the sage makes provision for the inner
man and not for his eyes. He puts aside the one
that he may take the other in hand.”1 He remembers
that rest is the lord of motion, and never allows. him-
self to depart from a state of quietude and gravity.2
Such is a sketch of the doctrine set forth by Laou-
tsze in the Taozz-Zi/z-kz'fig. It is an old-world belief
and finds many parallels in the eastern and western
worlds. Thus it is interesting as showing that the
contemplation of the same objects of supreme im-
portance to man has been attended by the same
results among the quick-witted Greeks, the subtle-
minded Hindoos, and the prosaic Chinamen. We
know so little of Laou-tsze’s history that it is impossi-
. ble to say whether or no he drew any inspiration from
3 India. It is possible that he did, but whether this be

1 Chap. xii. 9 Ibid. xxvi.

THE TAOU TIH KING. 2‘19 ,

so or not, the resemblance between the leading cha-
racteristics of Hindoo mysticism and those of Taouism
are sufficiently striking. When we are told that Hin-
doo mysticism “lays claim to disinterested love, as
opposed to a mercenary religion; that it reacts
against the ceremonial prescriptions and pedantic
literature of the Vedas; that it identifies, in its
Pantheism, subject and object, worshipper and wor-
shipped ; that it aims at ultimate absorption into the
infinite 3 that it inculcates as the way to this dissolu-
tion absolute passivity, withdrawal into the inmost
self, and cessation of all the powers ; that it believes
that eternity may thus be realized in time; that it
has its mythical miraculous pretensions, i.e., its the-
urgic department” 31 we see reflected as in a glass
the various stages through which Taouism has passed
from the time it was first conceived in the mind of

Laou-tsze down to its latest superstitious develop-

ments.

To the many and gross evils which have grown out ~ '

of his system, Laou-tsze gave no countenance whatever.
His was nQ_superstitions.faith,_but_was_an-abstract
belief in an infinite essence, and though it is true that
his teachin'gs‘have led to the pantheistic identification
of the creature with the creator, and that some of his
utterances have been held to countenance the systems
of charms and elixirs which have disgraced the religion
in later times, yet the Taou-z‘z'fl-Zez’zzg stands forth as
an undeniable witness to prove that its author was
singularly free from all taint of such superstitions,

‘ Vaughan’s “ Hours with the Mystics.”

"—9

2 20 TAOUISM.

and that nothing could be more opposed to the
humility and self-emptiness which he preached with
all sincerity than his own apotheosis, nor to his
hatred of deception than the magical arts of his
degenerate followers. His system was transcendental,
but it was pure, and in rules of general morality he
fell ‘behind no heathen philosopher. which the world
has seen, and he far surpassed them all when he
communicated that maxim which has been one of
the great glories of Christianity: “Recompense evil
with good.”

TAOUISM.

I0
[J
H

CHAPTER IV.

LEIH-TSZE AND CH\V.-\NG-TSZE.

BUT the same fate which has overtaken the systems
of the founders of all religions was speedily to befall
the doctrines of Laou-tsze. No doctrine howeyer
pure, not even Christianity itself, has been able every-
where to maintain its purity. After the disappearance
of the founder whose personal influence serves to
maintain the religious standard he has established,
and to whom all questions arising on disputed points
may be referred, there remain but the records of his
deeds and words. How soon the study of these
may give rise to disputations and heresies, let
the history of Christianity bear testimony. But
among the Taouists these never obtained any firm
hold among the followers of Laou-tsze. He had
shown forth no mighty deeds, he had shunned the
centres of concourse, his life had not been marked by
any supernatural manifestations, nor by any notable
acts of either power or self-devotion, and of the
manner of his death nothing is known. His Was a
life of retired meditation, and the direction which
in his many years of seclusion his thoughts took was
foreign to the preconceived ideas and tone of the
/ national mind. His ideas also had to compete with

2 2 2 TAOUISM.

those of aformidable rival in the person of Confucius,
who paraded the country followed by a crowd of
disciples, associating with kings and princes, and
preaching the glories of his native land and the in-
comparable cxcellence of the ancient rulers of
China.

Far more likely to attract were the sayings and
doings of Confucius, which sounded pleasantly in the
ears of a people already proud of the history of their
country, and which attracted the attention of all men.
Already the ground was prepared for the reception of
the seed he was to cast upon it, and when in due time
the harvest began to appear there was shown forth a
goodly crop of the rich and great, the powerful and
the wise. But on the other hand Taouism was as the
cave of Adullam, a retreat to which all those who
‘ were discontented with their lots, and who despaired of
the future of their country, took refuge. Such men
were by no means the best depositories of the
teachings of Laou-tsze. The genial tone and kindly
thoughts of the “old philosopher” became trans-
formed under their hands into sneers and complaints,
and his philosophy of existence was converted into
arguments in support of a careless indifference of life
and of death.

Conspicuous among the early writers on Taouism
are Lieh Yii-kow, commonly known as Lieh-tsze, and
Chwang Chow, who is usually spoken of as Chwang-
tsze. The first of these was born in the 5th century
B.C., in the generation immediately succeeding that of
Confucius and of Laou-tsze, and his writings fairly
represent the tone which had already begun to be

LEIH-TSZE AND CH\VANG-TSZI£. 2223

taken up concerning the doctrines of his master.
The belief in the identity of existence and non-
existence, and the constant alternations from one to
the other observable in all nature, assumed in the eyes
of Lieh-tsze a warrant for the old doctrine, “ Let us
eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.” “ Why trouble
oneself,”he asks, “about anything in life? Is not death,
which is but a return from existence to non-existence,
ever close at hand? My body is not my own 3 I am
merely an inhabitant of it for the time being, and shall
resign it when I return to the ‘ Abyss Mother.’ Why,
then, should I weary myself in the pursuit of politics
or of the many anxieties with which some men delight
to perplex themselves? Rather let me ‘take the-
goods the gods provide’ and enjoy to-day, leaving the
morrow to take care of itself.”

In this spirit he quotes with approval the account of
an interview between Confucius and a follower of Laou-
tsze named Ying, whom Confucius metwearing a leather
girdle about his loins in the fields near the city of Ching,
and who was solacing his loneliness by singing to his
guitar. “Sir, what makes you so cheerful ? ” asked
Confucius. “I have indeed many causes for re-
joicing,” answered Ying. “ Of all the things created
by Heaven, are not humanbeings themost honourable?
And I am a human being. That is one cause for
rejoicing. Are not men noble and women contempti-
ble ? And I am a man. That is a second cause for
rejoicing. Again, are not some men born who never
see the light of the sun or moon, and who never live
to get out of swaddling-clothes? I have walked the
earth for ninety years. That is a third cause for

2 2 4 TAOUISM.

rejoicing. Poverty is the normal condition of
scholars and death comes to all, why should I mourn
because I live as others, and because I shall die like
them?” “Good,” said Confucius; “you are indeed
wise.”1

A dream is the common medium adOpted by Lieh-
tsze for picturing ideal states of society, and thus he
relates that the Emperor Hwang-te, after a long fast
undertaken to subdue his lascivious propensities, fell
asleep and dreamt that he was transported without
effort into a far country, where the people were without
rulers, for they were masters of themselves,——were
without passion, for they controlled their desires.
They regarded life without pleasure and death without
dread, and therefore were overtaken by no untimely
fates. They knew neither relations nor connections,
and so were free from love and hate. Rebellion and
sycophancy were unknown among them, and therefore
they suffered no injury. There was nothing they
either loved or cared for, and there was nothing they
either reverenced or feared. They walked in water
without being drowned, they threw themselves into
the fire without being burnt, and they might be cut
and struck without receiving hurt. They mounted
into the air and walked as on the ground. They
slept in space as though they were on their beds, and
the clouds and the mists interfered with them not.
They listened to the thunder and were not deafened.
They saw beauty and ugliness, and their hearts re-
mained firm. Mountains and valleys presented no

’ Chun heu chin king. Keuen I.

LEIH—TSZE AND CHVVANG-TOZE. 225'

obstacles to them, for they walked on the paths of the
gods. And so he awoke.1

In this allegory we have foreshadowed the gross
superstitions which were soon to reduce the pure
imaginings of Laou—tsze to the level of Shamanism.
The doctrines taught by Laou-tsze, of the possible
absorption of the creature into the Creator had already
given rise to the pantheistic belief that even in this
present life it was possible for men to become gods,
and if gods, that then they were superior to the laws
of nature. On this subject Leih-tsze questioned the
keeper of the pass to whom Laou-tsze had given his
Taou-tih king. At first Yin He was disinclined to-
answer, but at last admitted that men might walk in
the air, and venture into fire without being burnt ; but
he added, “This sort comes only with the possession
of a perfectly pure spirit, and is not to be acquired
by art.”

Leih-tsze, however, thought otherwise, and relates as
facts wondrous tales of the adventures of Muh Wang,
who by the aid of a magician from the West visited
fairy-land, and made the acquaintance of the deity
known as the Se wang moo, or Western Royal Mother.
But he goes further, and states that a certain Laou
Chingtsze learnt from Yin He himself the arts of
creating and of conjuring. Thus after three months’
deep thought he was able to readjust the seasons ; to
produce thunder in winter and ice in summer; to
make creatures which walked upon the earth to fly,
and birds to lose the use of their wings.

‘ Chung heu chin king. Kcuen 2.

Q

2 2 6 TAOUISM.

To a man holding such beliefs the memory of the
matter-of—fact Confucius, who had so steadfastly set his
face against all superstitious follies, was naturally
distasteful, and we find him constantly holding him
up to ridicule and triumphantly contrasting the know-
ledge of uneducated lads with the so-called wisdom
of the Sage. “ One day,” he tells us, “ as Confucius
was journeying in the East, he came upon two boys
disputing. In reply to his questions as to the cause of
their wrangling, one answered, ‘ I hold that when the
sun rises in the east it is nearer to us than when it is
overhead, and my reason for so thinking is that when
it comes up it looks as large as the cover of a cart,
and at noon it is no bigger than a wooden bowl.’ ‘ I,’
said the other, ‘maintain that since the sun’s rays,
at rising, are cold and chill and at noon are hot, it
follows that it is nearer to us at noon than in the
morning.’ Confucius was perplexed with the difficulty,
and could give no decided answer. ‘Where, then, is
your great knowledge?’ shouted the laughing boys
after the retreating philosopher.”

On the origin and nature of the universe, Leih-
tsze differed lamentably from Laoutsze, and enun-
ciated a theory on the creation of the world which is
quite unintelligible, and which is therefore here only
literally translated. According to him, in the beginning
was Tazlyé’fi, or the Great Change ; Twit/zoo, the Great
Beginning 3 Tai—c/ze, the Great First ,° and Tali-500, the
Great Pure. In the Great Change there existed no
spirit. The Great Beginning was the origin of the
spirit. The Great First was the beginning of form,
and the Great Pure was the beginning of matter.

LEIH—TSZE AND CH\VANG-TSZE. 227

There was no separation between spirit, form, and
matter, and all was chaos. And chaos was invisible,
inaudible, and impalpable, and was therefore called
1071, “Change.” And “Change” was without form
and void ; and Change underwent a transformation
and became One. One was transformed and became
Seven. Seven was transformed and became Nine,
and Nine, the transformations having been exhausted,
was retransformed and became One. One was the
beginning of form. That which was pure and light
ascended, and became heaven, and that which was
impure and heavy became earth. It is impossible
to treat seriously such strange wanderings of thought
as these, but the fact of their having been gravely put
forward by Leih-tsze helps to make intelligible the
further fact that he believed in the magical wonders
and tales of sorcery which he relates in his writings.
When we meet with such statements, therefore, that
kestrels become on occasions crow-pheasants, that
swallows become frogs, and that field-mice become
quails, we feel that there is no inconsistency in them.

Unfortunately, the influence of Leih-tsze’s writings
on the minds of his countrymen remains unaffected
by the gross ignorance of the alphabet of physical and
natural science which they display, and we are there-
fore unable to dismiss him as an author unworthy of
notice. In many parts of his work he supports his
views of man’s place in the universe with vigour and
grace. It is to this branch of his subject that his
followers pin their faith, and it is this which has led
them to exalt the indulgence of the licentious pleasures
-of the day to the highest place in their creed, and to

Q2

2 28 TAOUISM.

throw aside every moral restraint as a folly. This
phase of Leih-tsze’s doctrines cannot be better illus-
trated than by a story he tells of Tsze-ch’an, a
minister of the state of Ch’ing.1 This man had, by
a careful administration extending over three years,
brought the state to a prosperous and peaceful con-
dition. But his success in this respect was marred by
the knowledge that his two brothers, Kung-sun Chaou
and Kung-sun Muh, were devoting their lives to the
grossest debauchery. As Confucius had laid it down
as an axiom that before a man is fit to rule a state he
must have succeeded in ruling his own family, Tsze-
ch’an felt that it was contrary to Taou that his
brothers should thus continue to outrage propriety;
and after consulting with a friend, he betook himself
to his erring brethren, and addressed them, saying,
“That which ennobles men above beasts is the
possession of knowledge and forethought. Those
virtues which follow from knowledge and forethought
are propriety and righteousness. The perfection of
these qualities gives reputation and position ; but he
who indulges his passions, and pricks up his ears at
licentious pleasures, will destroy his life. Now listen
to me, and if by to-morrow morning you have repented
of your ways, by the evening you shall be in office
(lit. eat emoluments).”

To this the reprobates replied, “We have known
all this a long time, and we have deliberately made
our choice. Do you think we waited for you to tell us
this? Mortal life is difficult to get, but death comes

1 Chung heu ching king. Keuen 7, page 4.

LEIH-TSZE AND CHW'ANG-TSZE. 2 2 9

easily enough. Who would spend a life which is
difficult to get, in looking forward to a death which
comes so easily? The desire to generate propriety
and righteousness in order to vaunt ourselves before
men, and to dissemble our appetites and natures to
assume reputations, would be to us worse than death.
Our object is to exhaust the dissipations of life, and
to drink to the dregs the pleasures of the passing
moment. Our only regret is that our capabilities
forbid our drinking as deeply of licentious joys as
we desire, and that our strength fails us before our
passions are satisfied. We have no leisure to grieve
over the disgrace which attaches to our name, nor to
the dangers to our lives which we incur. And if you,
who are so puffed up at being able to govern a nation,
think to disturb our consciences by your sermon, and
delight our imaginations by the prospect of glory and
emoluments, you are playing a despicable and pitiable
part. We will now point out to you the difference
between our philosophy and yours. Your delight is
in external government, and while you by no means
are always successful, you inflict misery on your
countrymen; but we, who take pleasure in internal
government, rarely give rise to disorder, and our
natures revel in enjoyment. It is true your system
of government may remain in operation for a time in
a kingdom, but it will not be in harmony with the
minds of the people. Our internal government, on
the other hand, might be carried into effect through-
out the empire, and then the Taou of rulers and
ministers would have rest. We have long wished to
impart this system to you, and do you venture to

2 30 TAOUISM.

produce your scheme for our instruction P” Tsze-
ch’an was dumbfounded, and had not a word to
reply. But a day or two afterwards he told Tang-
seih what had passed. “You have been living with
true men,” said his adviser, “and did not know it.
Who can call you wise? As to the order prevailing
in the state of Ch’ing, that is a mere chance, and in
no way attributable to your merit.”

Such is the philosophy of Leih-tsze. How far it
differs from the doctrines of Laou-tsze a comparison
with this and the preceding chapters will show.
Fortunately, though Leih-tsze stands high in the
estimation of scholars, it by no means follows that
they subscribe to his opinions. With the wonderful
power the Chinese have of assimilating whatever in
literature or science harmonizes with their own views,
they have adopted just as many of the opinions of
Leih-tsze as are not in opposition to the teachings of
Confucius 3 the rest they treat as vain imaginings.

CHWANG-TSZE.

The remark of the celebrated commentator Choo
He, that the disciples of Laou-tsze wandered further
and further from his opinions as the period lengthened
which separated them from him, does not hold good in
the case of Lieh-tsze and Chwang-tsze. The preceding
chapter will have shown how deeply Lieh-tsze erred in
his views of Taouism ; Chwang—tsze, on the other hand
though far from being orthodox, kept more closely to
the teachings of their common master. His compara-
tive orthodoxy is admitted by Chinese scholars, and

LEIH-TSZE AND CHlVANG-TSZE. 231

his great work, the [Vail Izwa icing, is not unfrequcntly
edited in conjunction with the 722021 2‘27; king of Laou-
tsze. The vanity of human effort was his main theme,
and the Confucianists were the principal objects of
his denunciations. The fussy politician who boasts
of having governed the empire is given to understand
that the empire would have been very much better
governed if it had been left alone, and the man who
seeks to establish a reputation is told that reputation
is but “the guest of reality.” “The tailor bird builds
its nest in the deep forest, but only on one bough; the
field mouse drinks from the river, but only enough to
satisfy his thirst.”1 Such are the examples which
should be followed by men, and not the political
purists and the ambitious ceremonialists. If the
world were but left to itself, people would wear that
which they spun and eat that which grew. The
mountains would be without paths, and the waters
without ships. All created things would rejoice in
life. Wild animals would wander in troops, and trees
and shrubs would flourish, among which birds and
beasts might roam. Then would men enjoy a golden
age. No knowledge would separate them from vir-
tue’, and no desires would taint their purity. But
what is the state of things now? Sages turn round
and round to become benevolent, and kick and
struggle to become righteous, and people suspect
them. They use frantic efforts to make music, and
they bow and distort themselves in their endeavours
to act with propriety, and the empire begins to break

1 Nan hwa king. Keuen I.

2 32 TAOUISM.

up. Before cups of ceremony can be made, virgin
timber must be spoilt. Before sceptres can be formed,
white jade must be cut and shaped. If Taou and virtue
were not corrupted, whence would there be such things
as benevolence and righteousness? If the natural dis-
position had not been departed from, what use would
there have been for ceremonies and music? If the
five colours had not been thrown into confusion,
whence would there have been lines and variations of
colour? If the five sounds had not been thrown into
discord, who could have echoed the six notes? The
destruction of wood to make utensils is the crime of
the workman, and the destruction of Taou and virtue
to establish benevolence and righteousness, is the fault
of the Sage.” 1

Thus Chwang-tsze was brought face to face in oppo-
sition to Confucius and to his own contemporary
Mencius. Such men as these, he held, represented a
disturbed order of things. When sages preached bene-
volence, it was a sure sign that evil was abroad, and
when the}r talked of honesty, that robbery was rife.
And in their own way they did as much harm in
teaching men to depend on externals, and to force into
unnatural channels the childlike nature of man as the
worst of criminals. Mean men devote their lives to
the acquisition of gain, scholars to obtaining reputa-
tion, and sages to governing the empire. But though
the objects pursued by these men differ, and though
they are called by different names, yet they all agree
in doing violence to their natures. Pih E died for his

' Chwang-tszc.

LEIH-TSZE AND CHVVANG-TSZE. 233

good name at the foot of Mount Show-yang, and the
robber Chih died through greed at the top of Tung-
ling. But though they sacrificed their lives for
different objects, they agreed in having met with
death and having outraged their natures. Who will
say whether Pih E was right, and whether the robber
Chih was wrong? All the world are greedy. Some/i.
pursue benevolence and righteousness, and are called I
“ superior men” ; and others pursue goods and riches,
and are called “mean men.” But they all seek after
some object with greediness.1

The step from doubting the existence of any real
difference in the motives of men to that of doubting
the reality of one’s own thoughts and feelings, and
consequently of one’s personal existence, is not a diffi-
cult one. And Chwang-tsze was at one with the code
of Menu, and pronounced the waking state one of
deceptive appearances a life among mere phan-
tasmata. On one occasion we are told he dreamt he
was a butterfly, and that he was flitting about like a
veritable insect, in complete oblivion of the existence
of such an individual as Chwang—tsze. But suddenly
he awoke, and found himself in the person of Chwang-
tsze. The thought then occurred to his mind, “Was
the vision that I was a butterfly a dream or a reality?
or am I now a butterfly dreaming that I am Chwang-
tsze P ” 2

But though there was this unreality in existence,
life was yet a thing to be cared for. Not as mean
men, who are ever striving with fussy anxiety to add

 

‘ Chwang-tsze. Keuen 3. 2 Chwang-tsze. Keuen I.

2 34 TAOUISM.

a few years to their lives, nor as the rich and great,
who surround themselves with every luxury to nourish
their bodies and every gratification to nourish their
senses, forgetting that these are but as so many axes
which before long will hew down the tree of life which
they vainly hope to support ; but as the true Taouist,
who, by seeking something beyond the body, nourishes
the body.

“ How best can I prolong my life?” asked the
Emperor Hwan-te of the celebrated Kwang-ching-
tsze. “ By keeping yourself pure and still,” answered
the hermit 3 “ and above all things by avoiding lust.
Let not the form of a woman meet your eyes, and let
not the thought of her cross your mind. Of all the
temptations men are heir to, she is the most dangerous.
It is by following these rules that I have attained to
my present advanced age.”

This care for life, however, was quite compatible,
according to Chwang-tsze, with an indifference for
death 3 and when his own end approached he met it
with perfect calmness, telling his relations not to
mourn over that which was inevitable. On the sub-
ject of his funeral he declared, “ I will have heaven and
earth for my sarcophagus, the sun and moon shall be
the insignia when I lie in state, and all creation shall
be the mourners at my funeral.” When his relatives
remonstrated, saying that the birds of the air would
tear his corpse, he replied, “What matters it? Above
there are the birds of the air, and below there are the
worms and ants; if you rob one to feed the other,
what injustice is there done?” 1

1 Mayers’s “ Chinese Reader’s Manual.”

TAOUISM.

[0
DJ
01

C H A P T E R V.
LATER ’l‘AOUISM.

THE Chinese have no natural taste for philosophical
speculations, and the Taouists, therefore, following
the bent of their nature, threw aside the deeper
musings of Laou-tsze with the same ease and in-
difference with which the followers of Confucius
discarded the abstruser portions of the Confucian
system. A few years sufficed to cast entirely into '
the background all metaphysical considerations enun-
c1ated by the old philosopher, and to construct out
of the remnant of his teachings a system which might
be applied to the )ractical concerns of life. How
thifimmo were
its apostles, we have no means of knowing, but the fact
that Che Hwang-te made an exception in favour of
Taouist works when he ordered the destruction of the
books, may possibly indicate that in the third century
B.C. its adherents were a large and powerful body.

At a very early date the followers of Taou seem to
have rejected Laou-tsze’s doctrine of self-emptiness
as insufficient to attract them, and to have sought to
supplement it by making it a means to the attain-
ment of everlasting life. The legend that Laou-tsze
secured for himself immortality may have given rise to

2 36 TAOUISM.

this desire, or possibly, conversely, this desire may have
given rise to the legend of Laou-tsze’s triumph over
death. But, however that may be, we find that at the
time of Che Hwang-te, there was a very wide-spread
belief in the existence of charms which had the power
of conferring imperishable life. Che Hwang-te him-
self was a firm believer in this and kindred supersti-
tions. He allowed himself to be persuaded into the
belief that in the eastern sea there were golden islands
of the blest, where dwelt genii, whose business and
delight it was to dispense to all visitors to their
shores a draught of immortality compounded of the
fragrant herbs which grew in profusion around them.
So sincere was his faith that be fitted out a naval
expedition to discover these much-to-be-desired
regions, and placed a professor of magical arts,
named Seu She, at the head of the undertaking. On
the plea that it had been revealed to him that the
expedition was likely to meet with a more favourable
reception at the Golden Isles if a company of youths
and maidens accompanied it, Seu She persuaded the
emperor to send several thousands of girls and young
men with him. On the return of the voyagers they
reported that they had sailed within sight of the
islands, but had been driven back by contrary winds.

Nothing daunted, the emperor despatched a second
expedition to bring back some of the waters of
lite. This also failed. But private individuals
were, it is stated, more fortunate than the emperor,
and the peOple living on the sea-board of the
states of Ts’e and Yen—a part of the modern
provinces of Shantung and Chihli,—were visited

LATER TAOUISM. 23 7

by numbers of travellers who had landed on the
fairy islands, and who imparted to their country-
men some of the secrets which had been communi-
cated to them. Thus they learnt the arts of fusing
metals, and of transforming themselves by the means
of magical incantations. But no failure roused the
emperor to a recognition of the imposture that was
being played upon him. Countless sums were spent
in vain, and profitless adventures at the command
of Seu She, or other professors of magic. A pro-
phetic announcement made to him that his dynasty
would be overthrown by Hoo (the Huns) was suffi-
cient to induce him to send an army of 300,000 men
against those northern borderers. With the success-
ful conclusion of the campaign the emperor believed
he had falsified the prophecy, but the Taouists claim
its fulfilment in the ruin which overtook the dynasty
in the fall of his successor, Hoo Hai.

During the reign of Che Hwang—te the more
eminent of the professors of the magical arts adopted
for themselves the title of C/zz'zz-jz'zz, or True men.
These magicians professed to have mastered the
powers of nature. They threw themselves into fire
without being burnt, and into water without being
drowned. They held the secret of the philosopher’s
stone, and raised tempests at their will. They were
on terms of familiarity with the immortal inhabitants
of the Isles of the Blest, who made known to
them future events, and imparted to them the
secret mysteries of Taou. But the time came when
these men had to die, and as the acknowledgment of
their deaths would have falsified their lives, it was

2 38 TAOUISM.

given out, as each disappeared from view, that he had
been carried off to some unknown paradise.

Not being willing to recognise for their religion a
foundation so modern as the time of Laou-tsze, the
T aouists claimed Hwang-te, the third of the mythical
five rulers, “ho is said to have ascended the throne in
the year 2697 B.C., as the real author of their faith,
and asserted that he never saw death, but was borne
away from the earth on the back of a dragon.
Unfortunately, however, the tomb of Hwang-te was
known to exist, and this discrepancy was urged on
the Taouists by the Emperor Woo, of the Han
Dynasty (140—86 B.C.), who seems to have imitated
Che Hwang-te in his patronage of the new sect. The
answer of the priests was that the court officials of
that day, being unwilling publicly to acknowledge his
translation, made a pompous funeral over the clothes
of their deified master, and that if the coffin were
opened its contents would substantiate their story.

Woo accepted this explanation, and allowed himself
gradually to fall under the entire dominion of the
priests. At first he was inclined to question their
statements, but by degrees so entirely did his judg-
ment become perverted, that he reached a stage when
nothing became too hard for his faith. Like Che
Hwang-te be despatched several expeditions in quest
of the Fortunate Isles, but with no better success
than that which attended the efforts of his pre-
decessor. He himself visited the Eastern Pung
Mountain, and was shown the footprints of a gigantic
genii who had appeared to the imperial professors of
magic in the preceding night in the form of an old

LATER TAOUISM. 239

man leading a dog by a string. This was before his
faith became unquestioning, and he ventured to
throw doubts on the footprint. The professors,
however, persisted in their statements, and, judging
from the influence they subsequently gained over
him, appear to have successfully deceived him.

At this time all traces of the Taouism of Laou—tsze
had disappeared, and the attention of all his pro-
fessed followers was directed to obtaining the elixir
of immortality and the philosopher’s stone. Death
and poverty have always been regarded by man as
the greatest evils under the sun, and in the dark and
early ages of every nation’s history sorcerers and
alchymists have pretended to possess the arts of
healing these sores of humanity. Like the Chinese
Taouists, the European alchymists of the middle
ages sought a high ancestry for their art. Noah was
believed to have been acquainted with the elixir aim,
and some were even bold enough to derive the first
syllable of the word chemistry, and second of the
word alchymy from the name of his son Shem, who
was believed to have been an adept in the art.
Moses also, said these writers, showed himself well
versed in alchymy by being able to make the gold
mix with or float on the water. In Rome and in
Constantinople pretenders in the art of making gold
and silver carried on a brisk trad‘e during the first
few centuries of the Christian era, and only a century
ago Cagliostro and his wife reaped a golden harvest
by the sale of the elixir of life at Brussels.

The mania for these magical arts among the
Chinese during the Ts’in and Western Han dynasties

24o TAOUISM.

seems to have been as general and as acute as the
South-sea scheme madness among our forefathers.
From the emperors downwards, the people devoted
their lives to seeking immunity from death and
poverty. Business of every kind was neglected,
fields were left untilled, the markets were deserted,
and the only people who gained any share of the
promised benefits were the professors of Taouism,
who trafficked with the follies of their countrymen,
and who fattened on the wealth of the credulous.

Among the most credulous was the Emperor Woo,
who lavished money on all schemes suggested to him
by the professors of Taouism. It was only necessary
for them to tell him that Hwang-te had built such and
such temples in honour of the genii, and he instantly
gave orders for the erection of similar buildings. In
this way he was persuaded to build a palace, which
was to be a watch-tower for the genii, and entrance
to which was gained by a myriad of doors. In the gar-
dens surrounding it were ponds, in which swam fishes
and reptiles said to have been brought from the
Fortunate Isles, while large stone aviaries contained
birds of every shape and hue. He dedicated Mount
Tai to the worship of the genii, and raised a sacred
mound at the foot of the mountain. At the consecra-
tion of these holy places the emperor was present in
person, and during the night after the ceremony-a
bright supernatural light rested on the mound which
had been made holy.

But it was obvious such an excess of zeal must be
short-lived. The numerous predictions and smooth
promises made by the Taouist priests must so often

LATER TAOUISM. 24 I

have remained unfulfilled that even the most super-
stitiously inclined must after a time have ceased to
place any faith in them. Death must have so often
cast to the winds the anticipated length of days held
out as a reward by the magician, and the’ professed
power of manufacturing gold, must have so fre-
quently proved itself to be an imposition, that no
wonder people began to weary of a system which was
so plainly a sham.

At this time Taouism was in no sense a religion,
and exercised no control over the conduct of its
votaries. The court of the Emperor Woo was too
often the scene of the grossest immorality, and Taouist
writers recount without shame the legendary amour
of the emperor with his fairy visitor Se Wang M00.
The only object of the priests was to trade on the uni-
versal desire for wealth and long life, and he who
professed the greatest powers received the greatest
rewards. “I know,” said Le Shaou-keun to the
emperor, “how to harden snow and to change it into
white silver, I know how Cinnabar transforms its
nature and passes into yellow gold. I can rein the
flying dragon and visit the extremities of the earth 5
I can bestride the hoary crane and soar above the
nine degrees of heaven.” And in return for these
imaginary powers he became the chosen adviser of the
emperor, and received the most exalted honours.

By the death of the Emperor Woo (RC. 87) the
magicians suffered an irretrievable loss. Emperor
after emperor arose after him who either withheld all
patronage from them or gave them a very qualified
support. Neither did a change of dynasty restore

R

242 TAOUISM.

them to favour. They had had their day of un-
bounded imperial patronage, and to a faith in their
wild superstitious follies had succeeded a recurrence
to the ethics of Confucius and the mysticism of Laou-
tsze. During the reign of the Emperor Hwan
(147—168 A.D.) great attention was paid to the system
of Laou-tsze, and it was during this period that the
custom of offering imperial sacrifices in the temple
dedicated to the old philosopher at K’oo Heen, the
supposed place of his birth, was begun. Already,
however, there were traces of the influence of
Buddhism on the popular acceptance of the teachings
of Laou-tsze. The duty of preserving life was held to
be among the leading doctrines of the philosopher.
Legends began, also, to appear of his career after
leaving the Han-koo Pass, which bear so striking a
resemblance to those met with in the life of Buddha,
that it is impossible to doubt the source from which
they were derived. After passing out into the wild
country beyond the pass, Laou-tsze spent three nights
under a mulberry-tree, exposed to the temptations of
the evil one. Lovely women tried to induce him to
accept their embraces, and, almost in the words of
Buddha, he rejected their advances. “They are,”
said he, “but so many skin bags full of blood. It is
by averting one’s eyes from such, and 'by having
nothing to say to them, that Taou is perfected. In this
age voluptuous girls and winsome women are looked
upon as the excellencies of the earth; while rich
living and choice wines have ruined the taste of the
empire.”

For some centuries from this time Taouism re—

LATER TAOUISM. , 24 3

mained neglected, and during the reign of Tai-keen
(569-583 A.D.) an order was . issued abolishing all
religious orders, whether Buddhist priests and nuns, or
Taouist doctors, and forbidding the promulgation of
all doctrines but those contained in the Confucian
classics. But after the death of this monarch brighter
days dawned on these heretics, and under the Northern
Wei Dynasty both Taouism and Buddhism received a
share of imperial patronage. During the reign of the
Emperor T’ai VVu-te (424—452) there was a return to
the superstitious pursuit of the elixir of life and the
philosopher’s stone, and K’ow Keen-Che, a Taouist
doctor, became the confidential adviser of the em-
peror. At his instigation the emperor, in acknow-
ledgment of the peace which his advice had gained
for the empire, openly embraced Taouism, and at a
solemn sacrifice accepted a- magical charm as evidence
of his adhesion to the doctrines of Laou-tsze.

By strict law the reception of such a charm was no
light matter. The candidate, by the practice of bene-
volence, love, rest, and self—rectification, should have
first gained for himself long life, and, having become
a genii, have attained to incorporation in T aou. To
each one who had thus perfected himself was given a
' charm, in the shape of a pure white book, in which
were inscribed five thousand characters (the number
of characters in the Taou tz'lz king), consisting of the
names of the officers of heaven, and certain incanta-
tions for deceiving demons, which were unintelligible
to the laity. Before receiving the charm the recipient
underwent a fast, and on the day of the ceremony
he appeared bearing a present and a gold ring before

R 2

244 TAOUISM.

the priest, who received the present, and, having cut
the ring in two parts, returned one half to the recipient
of the charm, and kept the other half himself, as a
pledge of the vows taken by the saint. Together with
the charm was also presented, in some cases, a seal,
bearing the device of the sun, moon, and stars, which
enabled the holder to cure sickness, to tread on knives
without being cut, and to walk through fire without
being burnt.

These charms had been for more than a century in
vogue among the Taouists. Like all the other super-
stitious excrescences on the doctrine of Taou, this one
was ascribed to Laou-tsze, and thus furnishes another
instance of the want of grasp of the teachings of the
“ old philosopher” which Chinamen generally have
displayed. To illustrate this, it is only necessary to
quote from the writings of Ko Hung, one of the most
celebrated doctors of Taouism during the fourth cen-
tury, the purposes which the charms are said to serve.
“ All mountains,” he says, “are inhabited by evil
spirits, who are more or less powerful according to
the size of the mountain. If the traveller has no pro-
tection, he will fall into some calamity. He will be
attacked by sickness, or pierced by thorns, or witness
strange sights and sounds. He will see trees moved,
but not by wind, and stones will fall without any
apparent cause from impending rocks, and will strike
him. He will lose his way and fall down precipices,
or be assailed by wolves and tigers. Mountains
should not be traversed in the winter—the third
month is the best time for such expeditions, and then
a lucky day should be chosen for setting out. Fast-

LATER TAOUISM. 2 45

ing and purification for several days beforehand is also
necessary, and a suitable charm should be worn on the
person.”

“Sometimes a mirror is needed, for living things
when they grow old can all, by means of their pure
part, assume the human form. In such cases their
true forms can be infallibly detected by means of a
mirror, which should be nine inches in diameter, and
suspended from the neck behind. These deceiving
elves do not dare approach it; or if one should ap-
proach bent on mischief to the wayfarer, a glance in
the mirror at the reflected image of the monster will
reveal its true form. If it should be one of the genii,
or some good spirit residing in the mountains, this,
also, may be learnt by means of the mirror.” 1

In order to illustrate the importance of carrying
these charms, the same writer relates the following
adventure as a fact :—“ Beneath the Lin-lu mountain
was an arbour where a demon resided. Whenever a
traveller lodged there he fell sick and died ; all night
long forty or fifty persons of both sexes were to be
seen there dressed in yellow, black, or white. Pih E
one evening halted here for the night, and having
lighted his candle sat chanting sacred books until
midnight. A party of ten or more persons then
arrived, and having seated themselves opposite the
traveller began to gamble. Meanwhile Pih E secretly
took his mirror and saw reflected in it an assembly of

1 “Proceedings of the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic
Society” (1855). Article on “ Modern Development of
Taouism,” by Dr. Edkins.

246 TAOUISM.

dogs 5 so he took his candle and carried it so close to
the clothes of one of the visitors as to burn them.
When 10 ! the smell was as of scorched hair. He
then grasped his knife and stabbed one of the demons.
At the same moment a voice was heard crying out
‘ I am killed,’ and immediately a dog lay lifeless on
the ground. The others ran away.” 1

Such were the superstitious beliefs to which T’ai
Wu te committed himself by the reception of the
charms offered him by K’ow Keen-Che, who taxed the
credulity of his patron still further by professing to
have gained the secret of the composition of the elixir
of life. But the draught which he recommended to
others failed to prolong his own days, and he died a
victim of disease before he had attained any great age.
But although the historians give us an account of his
death-bed scene, and though there is preserved to us
mention of the pompous funeral given to his remains
at the command of the emperor, and of the Taouist
ceremonies which were performed on the occasion,
his followers stoutly affirm that he never saw death, but
was carried up to heaven on the back of a dragon.

Already, as is indicated by the above superstition,
there was a large admixture of Buddhist ideas with
the popular notions. Coupled with the use of charms
grew up also a system known as Leerzyng, or self-
training, which consisted in the ascetic sitting cross-
legged in an upright position 3 not that he might subdue

‘ “Proceedings of the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic
Society” (1855). Article on “ Modern Development of
Taouism,” by Dr. Edkins.

LATER TAOUISM. 247

the flesh with the spirit and so become incorporated
with 'l‘aou, nor that, like the Buddhists, he might win
Nirvana, but that he might add years to his life, and
rival the ages to which the Taouists of past times
were said to have attained. This attitude was believed
to promote longevity, since it tended to keep the
breath in the lungs, and thus to ward off death, which
is the final result of the unceasing expirations. The
fact also of remaining still, and excluded from the
world, helped to suppress that other enemy of life,
the passions. And the ascetic, therefore, who sat in
lonely silence in his solitary cave, overcame the pro-
cess of decay which is natural to both the bodies and
minds of men, and purchased for himself at the
expense of all that makes life attractive, a few more
years of ascetic penance. It is quite possible that
such an existence may have tended to lengthen life,
and that the belief that some of the early Taouists
lived far beyond the ordinary span of man’s existence
may be quite true. We have it on record that Quakers
are as a rule a long-lived people, and the fact is
generally attributed to their avoiding all forms of
excitement. In the same way the early Taouists who
attained to the rest, purity, and the condition of
inaction advocated by Laou-tsze, doubtless avoided
much of the wear—and-tear which tends to shorten
the days of those who fight their way in the arena of
life.

The constitution, they held, is renewed every four-
and-twenty hours, during which time a man makes
I 3,500 respirations, and as often therefore the con-
stitution is drained. But that which is inhaled is the

248 TAOUISM.

perfect breath of heaven and earth, and this, entering
into the recesses of the body, not only prevents the
constitution from wasting, but adds to the quantity
and purity of the four elements (earth, water, fire, and
air) of which the body is composed. When this con-
dition of things prevails, the temper is cheerful, neither
heat nor cold affects the health, and neither cares nor
troubles harass the mind. The body is light, the
bones strong, the breath vigorous, the spirit pure, and
life becomes indefinitely prolonged.

On the other hand, if the source of life is not strong,
the vital essence weak, and the breath feeble, the
constitution wastes and is not replenished. The whole
frame is out of keeping with nature, and instead of
gaining the perfect breath of heaven and earth, it
accumulates in itself an excess of the female principle
of nature, and but a diminished quantity of the male
principle. The consequence is that the breath becomes
enfeebled, disease sets in, the breath is exhausted and
the man dies.

Asceticism and public worship soon became
engrafted on the doctrine of Laou-tsze, and the
Emperor T’ai-ho (477—500) signalized his reign by
building temples and monasteries for the Taouist
doctors, in imitation of those of the followers of
Buddha, which already were dotted over the empire.
Indeed, the many outward resemblances which now
existed between the rites and ceremonies of the
Taouist and Buddhist sects led to constant wranglings
and heart-burnings between the professors of the
two creeds. The imperial patronage enjoyed by
the Taouist magicians and alchymists was fiercely

/' ’/!)l

,, ,249

resented by the Buddhists, who pointed ollt/ that their;
opponents were nothing better than juggleré, while
the Taouists retorted that the Buddhists w ere strangers .
in China, who, if they were not dealt with summarily, .
would inevitably cause disturbance by importing a
foreign element into the empire.

Such was the condition of parties when Woo
(566—5 78) ascendedthe throne, and so eager were both
sides to gain the imperial support that, to satisfy them,
the emperor summoned a conclave of 2,000 doctors
and priests to argue on their relative systems and
difficulties. After full deliberation the emperor gave
his award and classed them both after Confucianism,
and ranked T aouism before Buddhism. At this time
the Buddhists had fallen away as much from the teach—
ings of Buddha as the Taouists had from those of
Laou-tsze, and the rites of both sects had become full
of the grossest immoralities. This, coupled with the
constant troubles to which their mutual jealousies
gave rise, induced. the emperor, not long after the
conclusion of the conclave, to issue a decree abolishing
both forms of worship. But this ban was again soon
removed, and the Emperor Tsing (580-581) not only
recognised both faiths, but ordained that in all temples
in which stood images of Buddha and Teen-tsun
“the Honoured one of Heaven,” zie. Laou-tsze, they
should both be placed in equal positions of honour
facing south.

With the accession of the Tang Dynasty, however,
Taouism gained the advantage over its foreign rival.
The delusions of the elixir of immortality and the
philosopher’s stone began again to exercise their

LATER TAOUISM.

250 TAOUISM.

influence over the minds of men. There are never
wanting knaves to take advantage of the weaknesses
of mankind, and so when this superstition revived,
magicians appeared also, who pretended to possess
the much-coveted secrets. During the reign of Ching
Kwan (627—6 50) there arose, among a host of other
alchymists, a certain foreigner named Nabourh Sopo,
probably of Mongolian origin, who is said to have
concocted a draught of longevity. Under the suc-
ceeding emperor (650—684) the Taouists still held
sway, and Laou-tsze received canonization by an
imperial decree, which proclaimed him to be Yuen
Yuen Hwang-tc, z'.e. the Emperor of the First Dark
Cause. So great was the emperor’s admiration for
him and for his teachings, that he ventured on the
daring innovation of including his writings in the
subjecLs of examination with the works of Confucius.
l\nd not only so, but he insisted 011 his tributaries
taking up the study of T aouism.

Up to this time official posts had been conferred
only on Confucianists, but now not only T aouists, but
Buddhists also, were declared to be eligible for the
public service. Rut in their turn they were con-
strained to conform to the Confucian rites, and a
special decree, issued by the Emperor K’ai-yuen
(713—742), bade them perform towards their parents
the filial duties inculcated by the Sage. Following
the example set in the case of the principal disciples
of Confucius, K’ai-yuen canonized Chwang-tsze and
other followers of Laou-tsze, thus putting the sect in
all points on an equality with Confucianism. He
also dabbled in alchymy, and roused the remon-

LATER TAOUISM. 25 I

strances of his ministers by taking a dose of “ Gold-
stone Medicine.” Thus nourished by imperial
patronage, Taouist wonders became of frequent
occurrence, and culminated in the appearance of
Laou-tsze, who announced that if search were made
in the Yin-he Pavilion in the Han-koo Pass, a charm
of mystic efficacy would be discovered. By the
emperor’s orders a search was made, and it is need-
less to add that a charm was found. Once again in
the reign of this emperor, Laou-tsze appeared on
earth, and in return for the favour thus shown him,
the emperor canonized the saint under the title of
.the Great Sage Ancestor, and provided for the dis-
tribution of the Tam-2’27; ez'ng throughout the empire.
Under the remaining emperors of the Tang Dynasty,
Taouism received only occasional support, and at
other times was the subject of persecution. During
the reign of Paou-le (82 5—827) the Taouist doctors
drew down the imperial wrath upon them by their
intrigues and their pretensions, and were banished by
a decree to the provinces of Kwang—tung and Kwang-
se. But under kuy Ch’ang the tide turned again
in their favour, and at their instigation Buddhism was
officially stigmatized as a foreign religion.

During the whole of this period the discipline
.among the Taouist priests was extremely lax. The
law, or rather the custom, which had grown up among
them with the extension of Buddhism, and which
forbade their marrying, was generally disregarded.
In all social matters there existed no difference
between them and the mass of the people. They
married and brought up families, they farmed and

25 2 TAOUISM.

frequented the markets, and placed themselves on a
level with the ordinary traders in everything except
the payment of taxes, from which they had been
made exempt by the decrees of converted emperors.
Under the first emperor of the Sung Dynasty (960—
976), however, a return to a stricter system was
enforced, and their priests were forbidden to marry.
During the reign of Hwei-tsung (1101—1126) it was
provided that the Buddhists should adopt Taouist
names for the ranks of their hierarchy. Shakya was
to be called Teen-13202, “the Honoured One of
Heaven”; a Buddha was to be Tat-526, “Great
T eacher”; a Lohan, Tszm-c/zay, “Honoured One”;
and a Priest, ZWz—sze. Certain Taouist priests were
given official rank, and jurisdiction over their church.

The favour thus shown them by the emperors of
the Sung Dynasty entailed on them persecution and
loss when the Manchoos established the Kin, or
Golden Dynasty over the north of the empire. To
be the friend of the Sung was to be the enemy of the
Kin Dynasty, and consequently the Taouists were
looked upon with suspicion and aversion by the
conquering Manchoos. Their freedom of movement
was considerably curtailed, and all mandarins above
the third rank were forbidden to hold any communi»
cation whatever with the priests of the sect.

But from the Mongols, who had been trained up
in wild superstitions, the Taouists found ample
support. No sooner did the armies of Jenghiz Khan
appear on the northern frontier of the empire, than
Taouist alchymists and magicians attached them-
selves to his banner. We read in history of pro—

LATER TAOUISM. 2 5 3

phecies uttered by these soothsayers being fulfilled,
and of strange portents being explained. So great
was the encouragement given to their arts, that
various sects of Taouists sprang into existence, the
followers of which all pretended to possess super-
natural powers, and all received imperial patronage.
It is related that when Kubilai’s empress was ill on
one occasion, the emperor summoned the Taouist
priests to pray for her recovery, and that in answer
to their supplications—to whom addressed we are not
told—she recovered her health. In return for the
service thus rendered, Kubilai conferred honours
upon the priests, and gave largely in support of their
temples and monasteries. In a note to his edition of
Marco Polo, Colonel Yule says of the Taouists of this
time, “ On the feast of one of their divinities, whose
title Williams translates as ‘High Emperor of the
Sombre Heavens,’ they assemble before his temple,
and having made a great fire, about fifteen or twenty
feet in diameter, go over it barefoot, preceded by the
priests, and bearing the gods in their arms. They
firmly assert that if they possess a sincere mind they
will not be injured by the fire ; but both priests and
people get miserably burnt on these occasions.
Escayrac de Lauture says that on those days they
leap, dance, and whirl round the fire, striking at the
devils with a straight Roman-like sword, and some-
times wounding themselves, as the priests of Baal and
Moloch used to do.”

Thus, when in 1368 Hung-woo, the founder of the
Chinese Ming Dynasty, came to the throne, he found
the Taouists a powerful and favoured sect. And

2 54 TAOUISM.

wisely judging it impolitic to declare himself hostile
to so numerous a body, he determined to try to guide
the current which he could not stem. He issued,
therefore, decrees forbidding Taouist priests to live
separately, or to wear red clothes, after the manner of
the Mongolian Buddhists and Shamanists. He or-
dained also that all priests desiring official recognition
should pass in the competitive examinations in the
Confucian classics, that thus a bond of union might
be maintained between them and the people of the
empire. By Hung-woo’s successors they were
patronized or discountenanced according to the
intelligence of the sovereign. Under Yung-lo, for
example, their pretensions to supernatural powers
were completely ignored, though the doctrines of
Laou-tsze were duly respected. To an ambitious
priest, who wished to persuade Yung—lo that the
waters of longevity had a real existence, the emperor
replied, “ The only true means of acquiring longevity
is to attain to purity of heart and freedom ‘from
desire”; thus plagiarizing the recommendation of
Kwang-ching—tsze, uttered over four thousand years
before, to those who wished to live long in the land.
“ Neither exercise your powers of sight nor of hearing,
keep your bodies at rest and your minds at peace,
and length of days will be your reward.”

Under Hung-Che (1488—1506) the qualified
support of the former emperors was exchanged for
active hostility. The practice of alchymy was strictly
forbidden as an absurd superstition, and the tenets
of the sect were openly ridiculed by the emperor.
Pointing to a burning temple on one occasion,

LATER TAOUISM.

Hung-Che said to the priest, “If those you worship
were gods, would they allow their dwelling-place to
be burnt down, or at least, would they not save them-
selves ? ” Though the same incredulity was not dis-
played by the succeeding emperors of the Ming
Dynasty, Taouism did not receive the same support
which had been accorded it by the Dynasty of
Jenghiz Khan 3 and with the return of the Man—
choos to power in 1636, even the limited patron-
age which had been extended to it was withdrawn.
One of the first decrees of the Emperor Ts’ung-tih
(1636—1644) was directed against Taouists, magi-
cians, and other heretics, whose doctrines were held
to be calculated to disturb the public mind, and who
were therefore ordered to be suppressed. But such
people die hard, and during the reign of K’anghe (1661
-—I 7 2 1) they were still practising their callings, and had
become so formidable that that emperor determined to
check their influence with the people. With this inten-
tion, he ordered that any magician or Taouist who
should prescribe enchantments to recover people from
illnesses should be sent to the Board of Punishments
to be dealt with; and that any patient calling in the
services of such quacks should be liable to punishment.
And he further directed that all members of the “ Do-
nothing,” the “White Lily,” the “Incense-burners,” the
“ Hung,” the “Origin of Chaos,” the “ Origin of the
Dragon,” and the “Great Vehicle” sects, should be
treated as criminals ,- and that all persons assembling
for the purpose of reading the Sutras, or marching in
procession bearing banners or striking bells, should
be punished by flogging or wearing the cangue.

TAOUISM.

CHAPTER VI.
THE Book or REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.

BUT though, as we have seen, modern Taouism has
many points in common with Buddhism, it strikes off
from it at the point where Buddhism runs counter to
the tendency of the national mind. From the time of
Confucius downwards the Chinese have been con-
firmed in their belief that the consequences of their .
\acts on earth will not follow them beyond the grave,
and that it is therefore in this life that they must
expect to gain the advantages of virtuous conduct
and to receive condemnation for unrighteous beha-
viour. In so far then as Buddhism treats of a heaven
and a hell, Taouism has no fellowship with it, and on
”this point it is at one with Confucianism.
' As in the case of Confucianism also, modern Taou-
ism has discarded the abstruse philosophy and hard
sayings of the Tam [27; king, and has adduced from
its pages a system of plain morality. And just in the
same way as it may be said that the maxims of K’ang-
he embody popular Confucianism, so the Km: yz’ng
pee/z, or “ Book of Rewards and Punishments,” and
the Yz'zz (/1171 min, or “ Book of Secret Blessings,” con-
tain all that is considered by the people of the present
day essential in Taouism. '

THE BOOK OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 257

The date of the first of these works is uncertain,
but the claim which it puts forward to have had
Laou—tsze as its author may safely be put on one side.
It consists of two hundred and twelve maxims, which
have been illustrated by short instances of personal
narrative gathered from history up to the earlier
part of the Ming Dynasty. We know also that it
formed part of the grand collection of Taouist works
which were published under the title of Tram c/zang
in the latter part of the sixteenth century. The pro-
bability is, therefore, that it was published not earlier
than the fifteenth or sixteenth century. But though
lacking any but assumed antiquity, it has become, from
the simplicity and practical wisdom of its teaching, to
be the most popular of all the Taouist, publications.
So highly is it esteemed as a guide and instructor,
that its distribution is considered to be a religious
duty. Edition after edition appear from the local
presses at the demand of charitable subscribers, who
take means to disseminate copies among those who
are too poor to buy them.

As this work is the one above all others which
exercises influence over Taouists of the present day,
we add a translation of the text 2—-

“Laou-tsze said, the bad and good fortune of man
are not determined in advance , man brings them on
himself by his conduct. The recompense of good
and evil follows as the shadow follows the figure.”

“ It is for this that there are in heaven and on earth
spirits whose duty it is to search out the faults of
men, and who, according to the lightness or gravity
of their offences, reduce the length of their lives by

s

2 5 8 TAOUISM.

periods of a hundred days. When a period of a
hundred days has been once diminished, poverty
preys upon them little by little ; they are exposed to
numerous miseries and difficulties ; men all hate
them 3 punishments and misfortune accompany them;
good fortune and happiness flee from them; evil
stars pour down calamities on them, and when all.
the periods of a hundred days are exhausted they
die.”

“There are also the Three Counsellors, and ‘the
Bushel of the North,’ the Prince of Spirits, who are
placed over men. They record their crimes and their
faults, and deduct periods of twelve years and of a
hundred days.”

“ There are also three spirits, called the San (/2271,
who dwell in the bodies of men. When the [fling
s/zz'lzl day comes, they mount to the palace of the
heaven, and render their account of the crimes and
the faults of men.”

“On the last day of the month the Spirit of the
hearth (who presides over the lives of all the members
of the household) does the same.”

“When a man commits a great fault, twelve years
are deducted from his life ; when he commits a slight
fault, a hundred days.”

“There are several hundreds of great and little
faults. Those who wish to gain immortality should
avoid them in advance.”

“Advance along the right way, and retreat'from
the evil way.”

' The 53rd day of the cycle.

THE BOOK OF RE\VARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 259

“ Do not walk on a crooked path.”

“ Do not betray the secret of the household.”

‘f Accumulate Virtues, and hoard up merits.”

.' “ Be humane to animals.”

“ Practise righteousness and filial piety, be affec-
tionate towards your younger brothers and respectful
towards your elder brothers.”

“ Rectify yourself and convert men.”

“Have pity for orphans, and show compassion to
widows.”

“Respect old men, and cherish infants.”

“ Do no injury, either to insects, plants, or trees.”

“ Pity the misfortunes of others.”

“Rejoice in the well-being of others.”

“ Help them who are in want.”

“ Save men in danger.”

“ Rejoice at the success of others, and sympathize
with their reverses, even as though you were in their
place.”

“ Do not expose the faults of others.”

“ Never boast of your superiority.”

“ Prevent the evil, and exalt the good.”

“ Forego much, and take little.”

“ Receive princely favours with fear.”

“ Bestow favours without expecting recompense.”

“ Give willingly.”

“ A man who does these things is called virtuous.
All men respect him. Providence protects him.
Good fortune and office attend him. The demons
flee from him. The god-like spirits guard him. He
succeeds in all that he lays his hands to, and to him
it is given the hope of immortality.”

S 2

260 TAOUISM.

“ He who wishes to become an immortal of heaven
must do a thousand and three hundred good works.
He who wishes to become an immortal of earth must
do three hundred good works.”

“He who entertains thoughts contrary to justice
will act contrary to reason.”

“ (Do not) regard violence as a proof of ability.”

“He who has an inhuman heart will treat others
with cruelty.”

“ Don’t inflict injury secretly upon the virtuous.”

[“ He who inflicts an injury in broad daylight,” said
Chwang-tsze, “will be punished by men 3 but he who
inflicts an injury in secret will be punished by
demons.”

“ Don’t despise in secret your prince and your
parents.”

“ Be not wanting in respect to your instructors.”

“ Don’t rebel against those you serve.”

“ Don’t take advantage of the ignorance of men to
deceive them with lying words.”

“ Don’t calumniate your fellow-students.”

“ Don’t invent falsehoods, nor employ artifice and
fraud.”

“ Never divulge the faults of your parents.”

“ Be not hard, violent, or inhuman.”

“ Never hastily satisfy your wicked caprices.”

“ Never confuse right and wrong.”

“Learn to distinguish between friends who are to
be sought and those who are to be avoided.”

“ Never ill-treat inferiors to gain merit.”

“ Don’t flatter your superiors with the hope of
gaining their favour.”

THE BOOK OF RE\VARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 261

“ Be not forgetful of benefits.”

“ Do not cherish resentments.”

“ Do not think lightly of the lives of the people.”

“ Do not introduce vexatious reforms into the ad-
ministration of the empire.”

“ Don’t reward the unrighteous.”

“ Don’t punish the innocent.”

“ Don’t commit murder for the sake of gain.”

“ Do not overthrow another, that you may take his
place.”

“Do not massacre the enemies who yield them-
selves, nor kill those who offer their submission.”

“ Do not exile the virtuous nor make destitute
sages.”

“ Do not insult orphans nor oppress the widows.”

“ Do not violate the law and receive presents.”

“ Don’t make crooked that which is straight, nor
make straight that which is crooked.”

“ Don’t rank faults as crimes.”

“Don’t indulge in anger in punishing a culprit.”

“When you recognise a fault in yourself, correct it.

“When you know what is right, do it.”

“ Do not throw your own fault upon another.”

“ Do not throw obstacles in the way of the arts
and trades.”

“Do not throw contempt on and calumniate the
holy men and sages.”

“ Don’t insult and treat with cruelty those who
' study reason and virtue.”

“Don’t shoot at birds, nor hunt animals.”

“ Don’t drive insects from their holes, nor frighten
roosting birds.” '

n

2 6 2 TAOUISM.

Vl‘ Don’t stop up the holes of insects, nor destroy
the nests of birds.”
’U‘. Don’t kill female animals great with young, nor

break the eggs of birds.”

“ Don’t wish misfortunes to others.”

“ Don’t destroy the merit acquired by others.”

“ Don’t expose other men to danger to secure your
own safety.”

“Don’t seek your own advantage at the expense
of others.”

“ Don’t give bad merchandise in exchange for
good?’

“ Don’t give up the public good for private motives.”

“ Don’t suck other men’s brains.”

“ Don’t conceal the virtues of others.”

“Don’t expose the defects of others.”

“ Don’t reveal private affairs.”

“Don’t pilfer other people’s goods and riches.”

“Don’t separate husband and wife, who are united
as flesh to the bones.”

“ Don’t help another to do evil.”

“ Don’t give way to wilful passions, nor seek to
impose by your power.”

“Don’t insult men to triumph over them.”

“Don’t destroy growing crops.”

“Don’t break asunder marriages.”

“Don’t make money improperly, nor pride your-
self in your fortune.”

“ If you escape punishment by a piece of good
fortune, yet blush for your crime.”

“ Don’t usurp the advantages of others, nor throw
the blame of your faults upon them.”

THE BOOK OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 263

“ Don’t give your own misfortunes in marriage to.
others, nor sell your crimes.”

“Don’t buy groundless praise.”

“Don’t hide within you a treacherous heart.”

“ Don’t decry the excellences of others, nor conceal
your own imperfections.”

“ Don’t use your power to do violence to, or to
oppress others.”

“ Don’t give way to cruelty, to killing and wound-
ing.”

“ Don’t cut cloth without due cause.”

“Don’t kill and cook domestic animals except in
accordance with the rites.”

“Don’t destroy or throw away the five kinds of
grain.”

“Don’t harass and inflict suffering on men and
animals.”

“ Don’t ruin households, nor despoil men of their
riches.”

“Don’t open the floodgates, nor start conflagra-
tions to destroy the dwellings of others.”

“ Don’t upset the plans and prospects of others to-
destroy their merit.”

“Don’t destroy men’s tools [as for example the
pencil of a scholar, the weapons of a soldier, the tools.
of a carpenter], so as to render them valueless.”

“When you see others covered with glory and
honour, don’t desire to see them exiled from the
country.”

“When you see others possessed of riches, don’t
desire that they may lose them or dissipate them.”

“Don’t envy beauty.”

264 TAOUISM.

“ [A handsome figure excites the admiration of the,
world, but it does not deceive Heaven.”]

“ Don’t desire the death of those to whom you
owe money.”

“ Don’t hate and curse those who are unwilling to
satisfy your demands.”

“Don’t attribute the losses of others to their own
faults.”

“ Don’t laugh at the deformities of others.”

“ Don't put obstacles in the way of the promotion
of men who are endowed with talents or worthy of
praise.”

“ Don’t bury the efligy of a man to inflict an
incubus upon him.”

[This refers to the practice of burying a wooden
figure of a man to charm away his life, much in the
same way that lately, in Shanghai and elsewhere, men
were accused of making paper men which suffocated
people in their sleep]

“Don’t use poison to kill your neighbour’s trees.”

“ Don’t harbour ill-feeling towards your instructors.”

“ Don’t resist and offend your father and elder
brothers.”

“ Don’t delight in picking and stealing.”

“ Don’t enrich yourself by robbery and violence.”

“ Don’t seek to gain promotion by deceit and fraud.”

“ Don’t complain that rewards and punishments
are unjustly awarded.”

“Don’t give yourself up to ease and pleasure.”

“ Don’t inquire minutely into the faults of inferiors
and ill-treat them.”

“ Don’t frighten and terrify people in distress.”

THE BOOK OF RE\VARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 265

"‘ Don’t murmur against Heaven at your lot, nor
accuse men.”

“Don’t scold the wind, nor abuse the rain.”

“ Don’t stir up strife and litigations between people.”

“ Don’t enter the society of evil-doers.”

“ Don’t listen to what your wife and concubines say.”

“Don’t 'disobey the instructions of your father and
mother.”

“Don’t let new things make you forget the old.”

“Never say anything you don’t mean.”

“ Don’t blindly covet riches, nor have recourse to
fraud to deceive your superiors.”

“ Don’t invent calumnies against innocent people.”

“ Don’t defame others, and speak of yourself as
upright and sincere.”

“Don’t abuse the spirits, and speak of yourself as
a virtuous man.”

“Don’t renounce the duties prescribed by reason,
nor learn to do that which is contrary to reason.”

“Don’t turn your back on your real parents, and
seek parents at a distance.”

“Don’t take heaven and earth to witness the in-
nocence of your criminal relations.”

“Don’t direct the penetrating glance of the gods
on depraved actions.”

“Don’t give alms and afterwards regret having done
so.”

“ Repay what you have borrowed.”

“ Don’t seek to obtain anything beyond the lot
wanted you by Heaven.”

“ Don’t employ all your strength to accomplish your
aims.”

266 TAOUISM.

[“The ancients said: ‘If you have strength and
power, don’t employ them to the utmost.’ ”]

“ Don’t give yourself up beyond measure to
pleasure.”

“Don’t assume a kind face, when there is cruelty in
your heart.”

“Don’t give people foul food to eat.”

“ Don’t mislead the multitude with false doctrines.”

“Don’t use a short foot, or an unfair measure, a
light balance, or a small pint.”

“ Don’t adulterate articles of merchandise.”

“Don’t seek after fraudulent profits.”

“ Don’t force respectable people to follow vile
callings.”

“Don’t deceive the innocent and set snares for
them.”

“Don’t covet insatiably the property of another.”

“ Don’t swear to your innocence before the gods.”

“ Don’t love wine, nor abandon yourself to dissipa-
tion.”

“Don’t enter into angry disputations with your
near of kin.”

“ If you would be a man, be sincere and upright.”

“If you would be a woman, be gentle and
obedient.”

“ Live in harmony with your wife.”

“Wives, respect your husbands.”

“ Don’t be always boasting.”

“ Don’t indulge in jealousy and envy.”

“Behave wisely towards your wife and sons.”

“Wives, be not wanting in your duties towards
your father— and mother-in-law.”

THE BOOK OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 267

“Don’t treat with contempt the souls of your
ancestors.”

“ Don’t resist the orders of your superiors.”

“Don’t do anything which is not useful.”

“ Don’t conceal a double mind.”

“Don’t utter imprecations against yourself and
against others.”

“ Don’t be unjust either in your love, or in your hate.’

[“ If a man sees a Sage, he loves him 3 a vicious
man, and he hates him. But if you hate any one
unjustly, you close your eyes to his good qualities;
and if you love with partiality, you blind yourself to
his faults.”]

“ Don’t leap over a well or a hearth.”

[“Wells and hearths are presided over by certain
spirits, and if you leap over them, not only do you
insult the gods, but you show that you have forgotten
the two things which are the foundation of the life
of men.”]

“Don’t pass either over food or over men.”

[“ The San ,ézc/mz [ting says, ‘ Those who have no
respect for the grains, and who dirty them in passing
over them, will be trampled upon’ . . . Confucius
said, ‘ He who carved the first men in wood, was
deprived of posterity because he made them after the
likeness of a man and used them at funerals.”]

“Don’t kill your children, either after their birth
or before they have seen the light.” '

“Don’t do anything clandestine or extraordinary.”

[“ Confucius said, ‘ I don’t imitate those who seek
after hidden things, and who do strange things to
divine the future.’ ”]

)

268 'J‘AOUISM.

“Don’t sing and dance on the last day of the
month, or on the last day of the year.”

[“ On the last day of the month the Spirit of
the Hearth, who presides over the lives of men,
ascends to heaven to make known their merits and
faults. . . . On the last day of the year the Spirits of
Heaven and Earth examine the virtues and the sins
of men, to punish or recompense them.”]

“ Don’t shout or get angry on the first day of the
month, or in the morning.”

“ Don’t weep or spit towards the north.” .
[“ The north is the place where resides the Prince
of the Stars of the north ; the north pole is the hinge
of Heaven. . . . If you dare to weep or spit towards
the north, you outrage the gods and profane their
presence, and you diminish the length of life which

was accorded you by Heaven.”]

“ Don’t sing or weep before the hearth.”

“Don’t burn perfumes with fire taken from the
hearth.”

“Don’t prepare food with dirty wood.”

“ Don’t rise up in the night naked and uncovered."

[“ The gods walk abroad during the night. Those
who rise up in the night naked and uncovered com-
mit a very grave crime.”]

“Don’t inflict punishments at the eight periods
known as Pa-tsz'e/z,” tie. 4th February, zrst March,
6th May, zrst June, 8th August, 23rd September,
8th November, and 22nd December.

[“ At each of these periods the Male and Female
principles of nature succeed each other, and at the
same time an analogous change takes place in the

THE BOOK OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 269

human body. If the punishment of flogging be in-
flicted at these times, the culprit not unfrequently
dies under the chastisement.”]

“ Don’t spit towards shooting stars.”

[“ These are phenomena which the Supreme Lord
sends as a warning to men, and to turn them from
their sins. Men ought therefore to be filled with
fear, to practise virtue, and to offer sacrifices, to
dissipate the calamities which threaten them.”]

“ Don’t point at a rainbow.”

[“then Confucius had finished the classic on
Filial Piety, he observed a severe fast, and then
turning towards the constellation of the North Bushel,
he respectfully explained the motives with which he
‘ had composed his' work. A red rainbow then fell
from heaven, and changed into a piece of yellow
jade, which Confucius received with a profound
salutation.”]

“ Don’t point rudely at the sun, moon, and stars.”

“ Don’t stare at the sun or moon.”

“ on’t set fire to the brushwood in order to hunt
in the spring.”

[“ Spring is the season when plants and trees begin
to shoot, and then insects rear their young. At this
time nature gives life and increase to all living things.
If we cause these to perish, we rebel against Heaven,
and destroy a multitude of its creatures.”]

“ Don’t utter abuse towards the north.”

“Don’t needlessly kill tortoises and serpents.”

[“ The tortoise and the serpent answer to the con-
stellation of the north known as Huen-woo. When,
then, one kills these animals without legitimate ex-

2 7o TAOUISM.

cuse, one draws down on oneself terrible misfor-
tunes.”]

“The god which presides over the life of man
inscribes all kinds of crimes, and according whether
they are grave or light, he reduces the period of life
by periods of twelve years or a hundred days. When
the number of days is exhausted, the man dies ; and
if at the time of his death there still remains any fault
unexpiated, the punishment descends on his sons or
grandsons.”

“Whenever a man takes unjustly the riches of
others, the spirits calculate the number of his wives
and children, and cause them one by one to die until
a kind of compensation is established. If the inmates
of his house do not die, then disasters by fire and
Hood, by thieves, by cheats, by loss of effects, by
sickness, by slander or denunciation, will wipe off an
equivalent of that which he has taken unjustly.”

“Those who kill innocent people are like enemies
who exchange weapons and kill one another.”

“He who takes unjustly the riches of another, is
like a man who tries to appease his hunger with
tainted meat, or his thirst with poisoned wine. Al-
though he thrivcs on it for the moment, death is sure
to overtake him.”

“ If you form in your heart a good intention,
although you may not have done any good, the good
spirits follow you. If you form in your heart a bad
intention, although you may not have done any harm,
the evil spirits follow you.”

“ If a man who has done wrong repents and corrects
himself, if he abstains from evil deeds, and accom-

THE BOOK OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 271

plishes all sorts of good works, he will at length obtain
joy and felicity. This is called changing evil fortune
for good.”

“A good man is virtuous in his words, looks, and
actions. If each day he practises these three virtues,
at the end of three years Heaven will pour down
blessings upon him. The wicked man is vicious in
his words, looks, and actions. If each day he prac-
tises these three vices, at the end of three years
Heaven will send misfortunes upon him.”

“ Why then do we not force ourselves to do good:PM

' “ Le Livre dcs Récompenses et des Peines." Traduit par
Stanislas Julien.

2 7 2 TAOUISM.

CHAPTER VII.
THE BOOK OF SECRET BLESSINGS.

IN the ”fir/127140572 also, there is no reference what-
ever to the doctrines of Taouism, but only a number
of moral injunctions of great ethical purity. The
work is popularly believed to have been written by
the deity Wan-Chang Te-keun, but the name of the
real author is unknown. The benevolent spirit which
runs through its pages has caused it to be welcomed
by Buddhists, Confucianis'ts, and Taouists alike; and
next to the Kan-ying—pmz it is the most popular
religious work in China.

Its teachings rest on a sound foundation where they
inculcate the necessity of purifying the heart as a
preparation for all right-doing. Be upright, it says,
and straightforward, and renew your heart. Be com-
passionate and loving. Be faithful to your master,
and filially pious to your parents. Honour your elder
brethren, and be true to your friends. Help the
unfortunate; save those who are in danger; and set
free the bird taken in a snare. Have pity towards
the orphan and the widow; honour the aged, and
be kind to the poor. Feed the hungry; clothe the
naked; and bury the dead. Use just weights and

THE BOOK OF SECRET BLESSINGS. 273

measures, and do not overtax the peOple. Succour the
sick, and give drink to the thirsty.

Redeem the lives of animals, and abstain from
shedding blood. Be careful not to tread upon insects
on the road, and set not fire to the forests, lest you
should destroy life. Burn a candle in your window
to give light to the traveller, and keep a boat to help
voyagers across rivers. Do not spread your net on the
mountains to catch birds, nor poison the fish and
reptiles in the waters.

Never destroy paper which is written upon; and
enter into no league against your neighbour. Avoid
contentions, and beware not to stir up ill blood. Use
not your power to discredit the good, nor your riches
to persecute the poor. Love the good, and flee from
the face of a wicked man, lest you fall into evil. Hide
your neighbours’ faults, and speak only of their good
deeds, and let your mouth utter the true sentiments
of your heart. Remove stones and debris from the
roadway, repair the footpaths, and build bridges.

Publish abroad lessons for the improvement of
mankind, and devote your wealth to the good of
your fellow-men. In all your actions follow the
principles of Heaven, and in all your words follow
the purified heart of man. Have all the Sages of
antiquity before your eyes, and examine carefully
your conscience. What good thing will be withheld
from him who practises “ secret benefits” P

Such are some of the leading maxims of this pam-
phlet, which consists of only five hundred and forty‘
one words, but which has exercised, and is still
exercising, an influence out of all proportion to its

T

‘ -..-_
‘-_

274 TAOUISM.

bulk. It has gone through many thousand editions,
and has become a household word throughout the
empire. Benevolent people distribute copies gratis
in the streets, and the zeal of engravers and com-
mentators has increased its proportions to the size of
a goodly volume.

These two works may fairly be taken to represent
the moral side of modern Taouism. Few professing
Taouists trouble themselves at the present day about
the musings of Laou-tsze, or the dreamy imaginings
of his early followers. They pursue only their own
good, mainly temporal, but also moral. To secure
the former they have recourse to the magical works
of the sect, and to the expounders of these, the
Taouist priests. They buy charms and practise
exorcisms at the bidding and for the profit of these
needy Charlatans, and they study with never-failing
interest the advice and receipts contained in the
numberless books and pamphlets published for their
benefit

Into some of these, Buddhist ideas are largely im—
ported, and the doctrine of the existence of hell,
which finds no kind of canonical sanction, is com-
monly preached. Liturgies, also framed on Buddhist
models, abound, and in some cases not only the form,
but even the phraseology of Hindoo works, is incor-
porated into these prayer-books.

'I‘AOUISM. 27 5,

CHAPTER VIII.
TAOUIST DEITIES.

WE have already referred to the intimate connection
which exists betweet Taouism and Buddhism, and in
nothing is this more apparent than in the Taouist
Pantheon. Laou-tsze, the founder of the religion, .
. knew nothing of gods and goddesses, and it was not
until the introduction of Buddhism that his followers
set up for themselves shrines and images. Naturally,
the first person to be deified was Laou-tsze, and, fol-
lowing the example of the Buddhists, who worship
Sakyamuni in three persons, as the Tathagatha of
the three ages—the past, the present, and the future,—
they enthroncd Laou-tsze as the highest object of
worship, under the title of San tsing, or “the three
pure ones.” Each person of this trinity is represented
by an image, and, just as when one enters a Buddhist
temple the three representations of the T athagatha of
the three ages meet one’s eye, so in Taouist “palaces”
Laou—tsze in his triple form is the principal object.
But though Laou-tsze is the first object of reveren-
tial worship, he is too purely the representative of
abstract contemplation to allow of it being considered
possible that he should take cognizance of things
which .are of the earth, earthy. It was necessary,
T 2

276 TAOUISM.

therefore, to introduce a god who, as the ruler of the
world, should undertake direct superintendence of the
affairs of men, and to whom they might convey their
hopes and their griefs. Such a being they invented
under the title of Yuh-hwang Shang-te, or “the Pre-
cious Imperial God,” who governs the physical uni-
verse. As time went on, and magicians and alchymists
began to flourish, the idea that everything in nature
consists of two parts, matter and its essence, gave rise
to the belief that the stars were the sublimated essences
of things, and as such were to be regarded as gods,
and as worthy of association with Yuh-hwang Shang—te.
The earth, it was said, is composed of five constituent
parts, viz., metal, wood, water, fire, and earth, which
are represented in the heavens respectively by the
planets Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, and Saturn.
Many other stars have in the same way been deified,
and are believed to exercise a direct and powerful
influence over the affairs of men. Thus the T aouist
sees in the heavens an etherealized counterpart of the
world around him, and as he believes that the relation
between these two parts is as close as that between
body and soul, he has learnt not only to worship the
essences, but to bow down before the physical objects,
such as the mountains, the valleys, the streams and
the rivers, which they represent.

The Great Bear comes in for a large share of the
star-worship, one part being supposed to be the palace
of a female divinity known as Tow-moo, and another
part being dedicated to the god Kwei-sing. The
powers of nature are also plenteously represented in
the mythology. The God of Thunder is a common

'I'AOUIST DEITIES. 2 7 7

object of worship, “and is represented as passing
through many metamorphoses and filling all regions
with his assumed forms. While he discourses on
doctrine his foot rests on nine beautiful birds. Thirty-
six generals wait on him for orders. A certain cele-
brated book of instruction is said to have emanated
from him. His commands are swift as winds and
fire. He overcomes demons by the power of his
wisdom, and he is the father and teacher of all living
beings.”1 Among other like deities are, “the Mother
of Lightning,” “ the Spiritofthe Sea,” “the King ofthe
Sea,” and “the Lord of the Tide.” The temples of
the Dragon King are also favourite resorts of wor-
shippers, who in all convulsions of nature recognise
the agency of this potent and amphibious monster.
Serpents are looked upon as manifestations of this
deity, and in times of flood often receive worship at
the hands of the educated and the uneducated alike.
During the flood which overspread the country round
Tientsin in the year 1874, a serpent sought shelter in
a temple near the city, and ensconced himself beneath
one of the altars. Far from desiring to get rid of the
intruder, the priests welcomed it as a sacred guest of
good omen, and Li Hung-Chang, the Viceroy of the
province, came in person to pay reverence to it as the
personification of the Dragon King.

But apart from these more general deities are gods
who preside over the different pursuits and callings of
men. As the number of deities is practically unlimited,
and as it is obviously to the interest of the priests to

‘ Edkins’s “ Religion in Chian.”

2 78 TAOUISM.

encourage worship of whatever kind at their temples,
there has never been any difficulty in adding a god
or two to the Pantheon. Thus students have chosen
to appropriate to themselves a god, who is supposed
to watch over the literary efforts of his votaries.
ll/iin-r/z’azzg [6’ 1367171, or the god of literature, is, accord-
ing to legend, the disembodied spirit of Chang Chung,
an official of the Chow Dynasty. Under subsequent
dynasties he appeared on earth in the persons of men
renowned for their scholarship and virtue, and finally,
under the Yuen Dynasty, he was deified under the title
of “ Supporter of the Y uen Dynasty, diffuser of reno-
vating influences, Sze-luh of Win ch’ang, God and
Lord.”

Since his apotheosis he has received official worship
throughout the empire. Twice on each year, namely
on the 3rd day of the second month, and again
during the eighth month, sacrifices and invocations
are offered to him on every altar by representatives of
the emperor, when the following prayer is read by the
official appointed for the purpose :—

On this day of the moon, in the year
, the emperor despatches his officer named
to offer sacrifices unto the god Win ch’ang, and to
say :—0 Divine Being ! Thou who didst manifest thy
presence at Tung in the western region 3 whose [star,
the] pivot [of the firmament] doth make the circuit of
the northern pole; who shineth brightly in the six-
fold constellations; who orderest the splendour of
auspicious fates.

“From generation to generation thou hast sent thy
miraculous influence down upon earth. Thou hast

 

 

 

 

TAOUIST DEITIES. 279

been the Lord and Governor of learning among men.
In upholding that which is right, long hast thou brightly
shone and stirred up hearts to thankfulness. It is
meet that a tribute of reverence and worship be paid
with sweet-scented offerings. Now, therefore, at this
period of mid-spring (or mid-autumn) it behoves us
to fulfil the season’s adoration. May the fumes of
this sacrifice, and the odour thereof, be acceptable
to thee ! Look down, we beseech thee, on our devo-
tion and our humility.” 1
The worship thus offered by the emperor is re-
flected among the people at large. In every city
temples built by private munificence or by subscription
are dedicated to the honour of Win Ch’ang, in which
. Taouist priests and fortune-tellers ply their trades with
never-failing success. In some cases the temples are
built adjoining the colleges set apart for literary study,
in order that the students may have ready access to
the shrine of the deity on whose smile or frown
depends their success or non—success at the competi-
tive examinations. In the principal hall of the temple
stand an altar and shrine, the interior of which “is
occupied by a venerable figure, seated in calm and
dignified repose, a benign expression manifested in
the gilded features, and a flowing beard descending to
the lap, upon which the hands lie folded. In front
stand the narrow perpendicular tablets, set in deep
frameworks of elaborate carving, which indicate the
titles of the object of worship.”
At Canton there are no fewer than ten such temples,

1 “Journal of the North China Branch of the Royal Asiatic
Society.” New Series, No. 6.

28o TAOUISM.

all of which are constantly attended by ambitious
students or their relatives. At Choo-tung-yun, where
W fin-ch’ang is said to have been born, stands the prin-
cipal temple devoted to his honour. On one of the
central beams of this building stands a brazen eagle,
from the bill of which a string hangs down in front of
the altar. Tied to the string is a pencil, with which
the god is said to write words of mystic meaning on a
table covered with sand. These heavenly messages
are generally prophetic announcements of impending
misfortunes; and it is said that in 18 5 3 an intimation
of this kind was sent by the priests of the temple to
the celebrated Viceroy Yeh, warning him of the poli-
tical troubles which were beginning to disturb the
provinces.1

Soldiers, again, worship Kwan-te, the God of War,
who when on earth bore the name of Kwan yu. In
early life he carried on the trade of selling bean-curd,
but having a soul above so mean a calling, and the
times in which he lived (under the Han Dynasty,
during the second century) being favourable to
ambitious enterprise, he embarked on the career of a
soldier of fortune, and won for himself both honour
and renown. He lived to receive the title of Baron,
but being entrapped by a crafty enemy, he was taken
and beheaded- For many centuries his name re-
mained embalmed only in history, but during the
twelfth century he was canonized under the title of
Chung-hwuy Kung, “the Patriotic and Clever Duke,”
and a little later he was promoted to the rank of
Prince. But it was reserved for the Emperor Taou-

‘ Gray’s “ China.”

TAOUIST DEITIES. 281

kwang to proclaim his apotheosis. After the sup-
pression of the Mahommedan rebellion under Chang-
kihur in 1828, the emperor published the following
decree :—

“Ever since the tripod of our dynasty was firmly
established, his majesty Kwan-te has often gloriously
displayed spiritual and divine aid.

“ Chang Ling, the commander-in-chief, reported
last year that when the rebels, headed by Changkihur,
advanced towards Aksu, and were attacked by our
troops, a gale of wind suddenly arose, filling the air
with flying sand and dust. Then the rebels saw in
the distance a red flame illumining the heavens, and
they were either slain or taken prisoners.

“ On another occasion, whilst Chang Ling was
leading on the imperial forces at Hwan river, the
rebels annoyed the camp during the whole night, till
a violent tempest arose, which enabled our troops to
dash in among the rebels without being perceived,
when an innumerable multitude of them were taken,
and had their ears cut off.

“The next morning the rebels all confessed that
they saw in the midst of a red flame large horses and
tall men, with whom they were utterly unable to con—
tend ; and hence they were obliged to flee.

“All these manifestations have proceeded from our
looking up and relying on the spiritual majesty and
glorious terror of Kwan-te, who silently plucked away
the rebels’ spirits, and enabled us to seize alive the
monster of wickedness (Changkihur), and so to
eternally tranquillize the frontier.

“It is therefore right to increase our sincere devo-

2 8 2 TAOUISM.

tion to Kwan-foo-tsze, in the hope of insuring his
protection and the tranquillity of the people, to tens
and hundreds of thousands of years.

“ I therefore hereby order the Board of Ceremonies
to prepare a few words to add to the title of Kwan-
foo-tsze, as an expression of gratitude for the protec-
tion of the god. Respect this.”

Once again, in 1855, when the followers of the
'l‘ai-ping chief were carrying fire and sword through
the central provinces of the empire, Kwan-te fought
on the side of the imperial troops, and caused them
to inflict a severe defeat upon the rebel host. For,
this act of mercy the reigning Emperor, Heen-fung,
published a decree in which he commanded that the
same divine honours which are paid to Confucius
should be paid to Kwan-te. It is difficult to deter-
mine how far this faith in the deity on the part of the
authorities is real, and how far it is feigned. The
majority of educated men regard such beliefs as
popular superstitions, but notwithstanding this, the
Government is willing to make use of them to support
its authority by persuading the people that even the
gods fight against the opponents of the Great Pure
Dynasty.

But probably no god is worshipped with greater
fervour than is Tsai-shin, the God of Riches. Though
the pursuit of riches and honour is discountenanced
by all the leading Taouist writers, the natural desire
for wealth has overcome all religious warnings and
denunciations, and is as strong among the Taouists of
China as among the most money-loving nation in the
world. No god can boast more temples raised to his

TAOUIST DEI'I‘IES. 28 3

honour than Tsai-shin. Every trader who at the end
of the year finds the balance of his accounts in his
favour, acknowledges the mercy shown him by making
a votive offering to the dispenser of wealth 3 and he
who fears a loss attempts to propitiate the god by
sacrifices and gifts.

As bestowers of earthly benefits, the three subordi-
nate star gods, in whose hands rest the blessings of
happiness, rank, and old age, naturally find great
favour among the essentially worldly Chinamen.
Buddhists may preach of the happiness of Nirvana,
and Taouists may expatiate on the advantages of
incorporation in Taou, but the practically-minded
Chinaman leaves the pursuit of these abstractions to
those who preach, and devotes his attention to the
acquisition of the blessings more immediately within
his reach. If the Taouist temples had no niches for
the gods of wealth, rank, happiness, and old age, the
priests would make but a poor living, and three-
fourths of the temples throughout the land would be
deserted.

It will be observed that there is nothing distinc-
tively Taouist in the worship of these gods except
the gross superstition which accompanies it, and it is
evidence of the present very degraded condition of
Taouism that, whenever a popular deity has to be en-
throned, Taouist priests are the servitors chosen to
wait upon his shrine. Combined with the office of
guardian, these backsliding charlatans ply the trades
of fortune-tellers, prophets, and doctors. If a mer-
chant wishes to know whether a venture will turn out
profitably or the reverse, or if a mother wants to be

2 84 TAOUISM.

assured whether her infant’s future is to lie among the
blessings of office, wealth, and long life, or to be ac-
companied by poverty and misfortune, they betake
themselves to a Taouist priest, who, well versed in the
tricks which ape superhuman knowledge, returns
oracular responses, which satisfy, for the time being
at least, the superstitious wants of the applicants. Nor
is their medical advice based on any surer basis. Dr.
Gray, in his recent work on China, gives the following
description of an incident he witnessed at a temple in
Canton :——“ Whilst I was visiting one of these temples,
a father brought his son to the priests . . . saying
that the child was possessed of a devil. Having con-
sulted the idol, the priests informed him that there
were no fewer than five devils in the body of his son,
but that they were prepared to expel them all on the
payment of a certain sum. The father agreed. The
child was then placed in front of the altar, and on the
ground near his feet were placed five eggs, into which
the priests adjured the devils to go. As soon as they
were supposed to have entered the eggs, the chief of
the priests covered them over with an earthenware
vase, and at the same time sounded aloud blast upon
a horn. When the vase was removed, the eggs, by a
trick of legerdemain, were found no longer on the
ground, but in the vase. The priest then proceeded
to uncover his arm, and made an incision with a
lancet on the fleshy part. The blood which flowed
from the wound was allowed to mingle with a small
quantity of water in a cup. The seal of the temple,
the impression of which was the name of the idol, was
then dipped into the blood and stamped upon the

TAOUIST DEITIES. 285

wrists, neck, back, and forehead of the poor heathen
child, who was suffering from an attack of fever and
aguef’

Among the multitude of other gods which claim the
allegiance of modern Taouists are the three celestial
intendants, who are more purely sectarian. Tsze-wei
te-keun, the intendant of heaven, is the distributor of
happiness 5 the second, Tsing-ling te-keun, the intend—
ant of earth, is the pardoner of offences; and the
third, Yang-kow te-keun, the intendant of water, is he
who delivers from danger. Besides these are the San
m", or three counsellors who watch over the actions
of each person individually. They preside over the
life and over the death of each, over length of days
and shortened careers. There are the San c/zz', whose
duty it is to register the deeds done by every one,
whether they be good or evil. There is the god of the
hearth, who has charge of the household generally,
and of each member of it separately 3 besides very
many others.

Inferior only to these deities is the Hierarch of the
Faith, who lives in considerable state in the Lung 1m
s/zazz, or Dragon and Tiger Mountains, in the province
of Kiang—se. It is believed that this prelate is the
earthly representative of Yuh-hwang Shang—te, who is
but the ascended form of one of his ancestors. Since
the apotheosis of this saint, there has not been wanting a
member of his clan to sit upon the priestly throne. As
in the case of the Lama of Tibet, the appointment is
officially made among the members of the clan by lot.
On the day appointed for the election, all the male
members of the clan assemble at the priestly resi-

286 TAOUISM.

dence, when a number of pieces of lead, each bearing
the name of one of those present, are thrown into an
earthenware vase filled with water. Around this
stand priests, who invoke the “ Three Pure Ones” to
cause the piece of lead bearing the name of the per-
son on whom the choice of the gods has fallen to rise
to the surface of the water.1 The result of the elec-
tion is reported to the emperor, in whose hands rests
the confirmation of the appointment. Nominally the
authority of this hierarch is supreme among the priests
of the sect throughout the empire, but practically he
seldom interferes with his subordinates. The present
hierarch is said to be a very ordinary man, with but
slight culture, and with as little sense of the dignity of
his office.

The mental and moral state of this man is a fitting
representation 0 the condition of modern Taouism in
China. Every trace of philosophy and truth has dis-
appeared fr'om it, and in place of the keen searchings
after the infinite, to which Laou-tsze devoted himself,
the highest ambition of his priestly followers is to learn
how best to impose on their countrymen by the vainest
of superstitions, and to practise on their credulity by
tricks of legerdemain. By the educated classes they
are looked down upon with supreme contempt, and
only such of their beliefs as have received the ap-
proval of the Government at different times for various
causes, are in any way recognised by any but the most
ignorant of the people. By law, candidates for the
priesthood should go through a course of study ex-

1 Dr. Gray’s “China.”

TAOUIST DEITIES. 287

tending over five years, at the end of which time they
take the vows, and receive a licence from the local
mandarins. But practically their novitiate is spent in
serving the priests, who impart to them only such
knowledge of chicanery and fraud as they them-
selves possess, and a smattering of ethical science, to
enable them to prompt the oracular responses of the
gods to the inquiries of the sick and dying. The
social morality of the priests is of the most degraded
kind, and the nunneries, which, in imitation of the
Buddhists, they have established throughout the
empire, are by common report described as the haunts
of every vice. Without a belief in any god apart
from deified men, without the purer motives which
influence the Buddhists in their endeavours to reach
a higher life, having drifted, century after century,
farther and farther away from all that is noble, un-
selfish, and true, the modern Taouists have sunk lower
in the estimation of their fellow-men than any but the
most degraded of idolaters.

THE END.

 

WYMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LONDON.