Chapter 5 of 8 · 3994 words · ~20 min read

Part 5

The Master said of Tzŭ Ch‘an[4] that he had four of the qualities of the princely man:--in his personal demeanour he was grave, in serving those above him he was attentive, in his care for the people he was kind, in his ordering of the people he was just.

The Master said: Yen P'ing[5] knows the art of associating with his friends: however old the acquaintance may be, he always treats them with the same respect.

Ning Wu Tzŭ's[6] behaviour was wise so long as his country was well governed; when revolution came, his behaviour was stupid. His wisdom may be equalled by others, but his stupidity is beyond all imitation.

Po I and Shu Ch‘i[7] never remembered old injuries, and therefore their enemies were few.

Who will say that Wei-sheng Kao[8] was an upright man? When asked by somebody for some vinegar, he went and begged it of a neighbour, and gave this to the man who had asked him.

For the space of three months together Hui[9] would not deviate in spirit from the path of perfect virtue. My other disciples may attain this height once in a day or in a month, but that is all.

Po Niu[10] lying sick unto death, the Master went to visit him. He clasped his hand through the window and said: He is dying. Such is fate. Alas! that such a man should have such an illness, that such a man should have such an illness!

The Master said: Hui was indeed a philosopher! Other men living as he did, in a miserable alley, with a single dish of food and a single bowl of drink, could not have endured the distress. But Hui was invariably cheerful. He was a philosopher indeed!

Jan Ch‘iu said: It is not that I have no joy in my Master's teaching, it is my strength that fails me.--The Master replied: Those whose strength fails them fall fainting by the way. What you do is to set up bounds which you will not attempt to pass.

The Master said: Mêng Chih-fan is no braggart. Once after a defeat, when he was bringing up the rear, he whipped his horse as he was about to enter the city gate, and cried: It is not courage that makes me last, it is my horse that won't gallop fast enough.[11]

The Master addressing Yen Yüan said: It is only you and I who would be content to accept public employment when it was offered to us, and to retire into obscurity when we were dismissed.--Tzŭ Lu then said: If you, Sir, had the conduct of three legions, whom would you associate with yourself in the command?--I would not, replied the Master, choose a man who would attack a tiger unarmed, cross a river without a boat, or sacrifice his life without a moment's regret. Rather should it be one who would not embark on an enterprise without anxiety, and who was accustomed to lay his plans well before putting them into execution.[12]

The Master said: T‘ai Po may be said to have reached the summit of virtue. Having resolutely renounced the Imperial throne, he put it out of the people's power to glorify his act of renunciation![13]

In the Emperor Yü[14] I find no loophole for censure. His own food and drink were plain, but his offerings to the ancestral spirits showed extreme piety. His own garments were poor, but his robes and cap of state were extremely fine. His own dwelling was humble, but he spent all his strength on the construction of public canals and water-courses. I find no loophole for censure in Yü.

After the word had gone forth, Hui was never backward in his deeds.

The Master speaking of Yen Yüan said: Ah, what a loss! I used to see him ever progressing and never coming to a standstill.

The Master said: Yu, I fancy, is a man who would stand up, dressed in shabby garments quilted with hemp, among people attired in furs of fox and badger, and not be ashamed. "Hating none and courting none, how can he be other than good?"[15]--As Tzŭ Lu kept constantly humming over this line, the Master said: This rule of conduct is not enough by itself to constitute goodness.

The Master said: None of those who accompanied me on the journey to the states of Ch‘ên and Ts‘ai come to learn from me now.[16] Distinguished for their virtuous conduct were Yen Yüan, Min Tzŭ-ch‘ien, Jan Po-niu and Chung Kung; for their skill in speaking, Tsai Wo and Tzŭ Kung; for their administrative powers, Jan Yu and Chi Lu; for their literary attainments, Tzŭ Yu and Tzŭ Hsia.

Hui does not help me[17]--he takes such delight in everything I say.

What noble piety[18] is that of Min Tzŭ-ch‘ien! Other men speak of him in exactly the same terms as his own parents and his own brethren.

When Yen Yüan died, the Master wept with passionate grief, so that those who were with him said: Master, your sorrow is too passionate.--Is it too passionate? he replied. Whose death should be a cause for violent grief, if not this man's?

On one occasion there were standing in attendance on the Master Min Tzŭ, looking gentle and mild; Tzŭ Lu, looking upright and soldierly; Jan Yu and Tzŭ Kung, looking frank and affable. The Master was pleased. "A man like Yu," he remarked, "will not come by a natural death."[19]

The Master said: Why is Yu playing his martial music at my door?--The disciples began to lose their respect for Tzŭ Lu, whereupon the Master said: Yu has ascended the steps of the temple, though he has not yet reached the inner sanctuary.

Tzŭ Kung asked which was the man of greater worth, Shih or Shang. The Master replied: Shih exceeds and Shang falls short.--Then Shih is the better of the two?--The Master said: To exceed is as bad as to fall short.

The head of the Chi clan was already richer than Chou Kung, yet Ch‘iu kept levying taxes for him and adding to his wealth.--He is no disciple of mine, said the Master. My children, you may beat the drum and attack him.[20]

The Master said: Hui reaches the verge of perfection, yet he is often in great want. Tz‘ŭ does not resign himself to the will of Heaven, yet his worldly goods continue to increase. His judgments, however, frequently hit the mark.

Tzŭ Lu asked if he should at once put the precepts which he heard into practice.--The Master said: There are your father and elder brothers to consult first; why should you be so impatient to act on what you hear?--Jan Yu asked the same question, and the Master said: Yes, act at once according to the instruction that is given to you.--Kung-hsi Hua then said: When Yu asked if he should put the precepts which he heard into practice, you replied, Sir, that he had his father and elder brothers to consult first. When Ch‘iu asked the same question, you said:

"Act at once according to the instruction that is given to you." Now I am puzzled, and beg for an explanation.--The Master replied: Ch‘iu is apt to hang back, therefore I press him on. Yu has eagerness enough for two, therefore I hold him back.

Chi Tzŭ-jan[21] asked if Chung Yu and Jan Ch‘iu could be termed great ministers. The Master said: I thought you had something extraordinary to ask about, and now it turns out to be a question about Yu and Ch‘iu. What men call a great minister is one who serves his prince according to the principles of truth and virtue, and when that is impossible, resigns. Yu and Ch‘iu, however, can only be termed ordinary officials.--Which is as much as to say that they will always obediently follow their master's will?--The Master replied: They would not follow him so far as to commit parricide or regicide.

The Master said: Yu is the man to settle a long litigation in a few words.

Tzŭ Kung was fond of weighing other men's merits and defects. The Master said: Surely Tz‘u must be a very great sage! Personally, I have no time for this.

[1] It is said elsewhere in the Analects (see p. 94) that "the higher type of man is unlike a vessel designed for some special use," which means that his moral capacity is not narrow and limited. Tzŭ Kung, then, it seems, had not fully grasped the higher principles of morality, was wanting in breadth of mind and the larger outlook on life. His aptitudes, however, were excellent so far as they went, and the Master compliments him hero on his proficiency in things relating to religious ceremonial.

[2] Confucius probably wished to impress upon his questioner that true moral virtue (fen) was deeply implanted in the soul, and not to be gauged offhand from the presence or absence of certain superficial signs.

[3] It is passing strange that the clumsy "I grant you" for _wu yü ju_ (I and you) should have found favour with translators. Wade even goes one better, by translating: "I award you this praise, Hui does not equal you "!

[4] Prime Minister of the Chêng State in the sixth century B.C. When he had ruled for three years, so great was the change effected that "doors were not locked at night, and lost articles were not picked up on the highway." Confucius wept when he heard of his death.

[5] Minister in the neighbouring state of Ch‘i.

[6] A minister of the Wei State in the seventh century B.C. In the revolution referred to the prince was driven from his throne, but afterwards reinstated through the "stupidity," that is to say, the unwavering loyalty and devotion of Ning.

[7] These were brothers, celebrated for their protest against the overthrow of the Yin dynasty. Rather than live under the rule of the new sovereign, the great and virtuous Wu Wang, they wandered away into the mountains to perish of cold and hunger. This fidelity to the cause of Chou Hsin, one of the bloodiest and most infamous tyrants in history, seems a shade more quixotic than the conduct of those who espoused for so long the fallen fortunes of the house of Stuart.

[8] This was a young man who, if legend may be trusted, died more heroically than he lived. He agreed to meet a girl under a bridge, but, woman-like, she failed to keep her appointment. Though the water was rising rapidly, her lover waited on, unwilling to quit his post, and finally clung to a pillar until he was drowned.

[9] This is the man whom Confucius, according to Wade (see p. 73), ranked below Tzŭ Kung!

[10] Po Niu is said to have been suffering from leprosy, and therefore he would not allow visitors to enter his room.

[11] Few will see anything harmful in this anecdote as told by Confucius. Yet it is actually made to figure in the general charge of insincerity and untruthfulness brought against him by Legge. "The

## action was gallant," he says, "but the apology for it was weak and

unnecessary. And yet Confucius saw nothing in the whole but matter for praise." In the first place, Legge entirely ignores the possibility that Mêng Chih-fan was really speaking the truth. But even if it were otherwise, Confucius' only comment is that he was "no braggart." Surely it is an overstrained morality that could be offended by this.

[12] Compare Moltke's motto: "Erst wägen, dann wagen." Tzŭ Lu was noted for his reckless bravery. Evidently jealous of the praise bestowed on Yen Yüan, he makes a delightfully artless attempt to secure some recognition for himself, but only draws down a reproof. The Master's relations with this vain, impulsive, good-hearted disciple often remind one of those subsisting between Dr. Johnson and Goldsmith.

[13] T‘ai Po was the direct heir to his father's throne, but knowing that the latter wished to be succeeded by his youngest son (the father of the future Wên Wang, the virtual founder of the Chou dynasty), he went into voluntary exile among the barbarous tribes of the south, but kept the motives of his conduct to himself, and thus obtained no credit for his self-sacrifice.

[14] The "Great Yü," who in the reign of the Emperor Yao laboured incessantly for eight years to control the disastrous inundations of the Yellow River, himself became Emperor after the death of Yao's successor Shun, and founded the Hsia dynasty (2205-1766 B.C.).

[15] A quotation from the Book of Poetry, a collection of some 300 ancient ballads said to have been selected and arranged by Confucius himself, and hence raised to the dignity of a "classic."

[16] This must have been said by Confucius after his return from exile, when many of his followers were dead or in other parts of the Empire. Ch'en and Ts'ai are particularly mentioned because it was on the road between these two small states that he met with the most perilous adventure of his life, being surrounded by hostile troops and cut off from all supplies for the space of seven days (see p. 115). It is not quite clear whether the next sentence should not be taken as a note added by the compiler, giving the names of those who were with the Master on this journey.

[17] By criticism or questioning. Cf. p. 71.

[18] On hsiao, occurring in another treatise, Mr. Ku Hung-ming has the following note: "The word in the text does not mean merely a filial son, but has the meaning of the Latin 'pius'--pious in its full sense, reverential to God, dutiful to parents, good, faithful and orderly in all the relations of life."

[19] "This prediction was verified. When Confucius returned to Lu from Wei, he left Tzŭ Lu and Tzŭ Kao engaged there in official service. Troubles arose. News came to Lu, B.C. 479, that a revolution was in progress in Wei, and when Confucius heard it, he said, 'Ch‘ai will come here, but Yu will die,' So it turned out. When Tzŭ Kao saw that matters were desperate he made his escape, but Tzŭ Lu would not forsake the chief who had treated him well. He threw himself into the mêlée and was slain."--Legge, _Life of Confucius_.

[20] This was the disciple by whoso agency Confucius was finally restored to Lu. But Confucius was the last man to let private considerations stand in the way when public interests were involved and a crying evil had to be redressed. "Beating the drum" has no reference, as Legge thinks, to "the practice of executing criminals in the market-place." It was simply the recognised signal in warfare for advancing to the attack, gongs being used to sound the retreat.

[21] A member of the ambitious family which was scheming to get the whole power of the dukedom into its own hands. The two disciples here mentioned had recently been enlisted in its service, and Chi Tzŭ-jan is anxious to find out how far they can be relied upon in case of need. Confucius sees through his nefarious designs.

CONFUCIUS ON HIMSELF

The Master: I will not be grieved that other men do not know me: I will be grieved that I do not know other men.

At fifteen, my mind was bent on learning. At thirty, I stood firm. At forty, I was free from delusions. At fifty, I understood the laws of Providence. At sixty, my ears were attentive to the truth. At seventy, I could follow the promptings of my heart without overstepping the mean.

Tzŭ Kung was for doing away with the customary sacrifice of a sheep on the first day of the month. The Master said: Ah, Tz‘ŭ, you grudge the loss of a sheep, but I grudge the loss of a ceremony.

The Master said: In any hamlet of a dozen houses you will surely find men as honest and conscientious as myself, though they may not be so devoted to ethical study.

The Master having gone to visit Nan Tzŭ,[1] Tzŭ Lu was displeased. Thereupon Confucius swore a solemn oath, saying: In whatsoever I have sinned, may I be abominable in the sight of God!

The Master said: My function is to indicate rather than to originate. Regarding antiquity as I do with trust and affection, I would venture to compare myself with our ancient patriarch P‘êng Tsu.[2]

The unpretentious hiving of wisdom, patient self-cultivation, and untiring instruction of others--to which of these can I make any claim?

The failure to cultivate virtue, the failure to examine and analyse what I have learnt, the inability to move towards righteousness after being shown the way, the inability to correct my faults--these are the causes of my grief.

Alas! what a falling-off is here! Long is it since I dreamt of Chou Kung.[3]

There is no one, from the man who brings me dried meat as payment upwards, to whom I have refused my instruction.

I do not expound my teaching to any who are not eager to learn; I do not help out any one who is not anxious to explain himself; if, after being shown one corner of a subject, a man cannot go on to discover the other three, I do not repeat the lesson.

If the pursuit of riches were a commendable pursuit, I would join in it, even if I had to become a chariot-driver for the purpose. But seeing that it is not a commendable pursuit, I engage in those which are more to my taste.[4]

The Duke of Shê questioned Tzŭ Lu about Confucius. Tzŭ Lu made no reply. The Master said to him afterwards: Why did you not say: "He is a man whose zeal for self-improvement is such that he forgets to eat; whose happiness in this pursuit is so great that he forgets his troubles and does not perceive old age stealing upon him"?

The Master said: In me, knowledge is not innate. I am but one who loves antiquity, and is earnest in the study of it.

If I am walking with two other men, each of them will serve as my teacher. I will pick out the good points of the one and imitate them, and the bad points of the other and correct them in myself.

My disciples, do you think that I have any secrets? I have no secrets from you. It is my way to do nothing without communicating it to you, my disciples.

There are men, I daresay, who act rightly without knowing the reason why, but I am not one of them. Having heard much, I sift out the good and practise it; having seen much, I retain it in my memory. This is the second order of wisdom.[5]

In literary accomplishments I am perhaps equal to other men; but I have not yet succeeded in exhibiting the conduct of the princely man in my own person.

To divine wisdom and perfect virtue I can lay no claim. All that can be said of me is that I never falter in the course which I pursue and am unwearying in my instruction of others--this and nothing more.--Kung-hsi Hua said: But those are just the qualities that we, your disciples, are unable to acquire.

The Master being grievously sick, Tzŭ Lu proposed the offering up of a prayer.--Is there a precedent for this? asked the Master.--Tzŭ Lu replied: There is. In the Eulogies[6] it is written: "We pray unto you, O spirits of Heaven and Earth."--The Master said: My prayers began long ago.[7]

The Master was passing through a by-street when a man of the district shouted: Great is Confucius the philosopher! Yet for all his wide learning, he has nothing which can bring him fame.--On hearing this, the Master turned to his disciples and said: What shall I take up? Shall I take up charioteering or shall I take up archery? I will take up charioteering!

The Master said: The ancient rites prescribe linen as the material for a ceremonial cap, but nowadays silk is used as being more economical. In this matter I fall in with the general custom. According to the ancient rites, the Prince is to be saluted from below the dais, but nowadays the salutation takes place above. This is presumptuous, and therefore, though infringing thereby the general custom, I adopt the humbler position.[8]

A high officer asked Tzŭ Kung, saying: Surely your Master is a divine Prophet? What a variety of accomplishments he seems to possess!--Tzŭ Kung replied: Truly he must be a Prophet, so richly has he been endowed by God. And he has also perfected himself in various arts.--The Master, being told of this, said: Does His Excellency really know me now for what I am? Being of low condition as a boy, I did become skilled in various arts--but these are base accomplishments after all. If asked whether the higher type of man has many such accomplishments, I should say, Not many.[9]

The Master said: Am I possessed of true knowledge? Not so. But if an ignorant fellow from the lower class comes to me with a question, I will discuss the subject from end to end, and set it fully before him.

Tzŭ Kung said to Confucius: If you had a lovely jewel, would you hide it away in a casket, or would you try to sell it for a good price?-- The Master replied: Oh, certainly I would sell it, but I would wait until a price was offered.[10]

The Master said: Out of doors, to tender faithful service to prince and ministers; at home, to be duteous towards father and elder brothers; to observe the rites of mourning with the utmost care; to avoid being overcome with wine:--which of these virtues have I?

In matters pertaining to ceremonies and music, the ancients were more or less uncivilised in comparison with the refinement of a later age. Nevertheless, in practice I take the earlier period as my guide.[11]

As an arbiter in litigation I am no better than other men. But surely the grand object to achieve is that there shall be no litigation at all.[12]

Wei-sheng Mou,[13] addressing Confucius, said: Ch‘iu, why is it you keep hopping about thus from place to place? Is it not in order to show off your fine rhetoric?--Confucius replied: I do not allow myself to indulge in fine rhetoric; no, it is because I consider obstinacy a fault.[14]

The Master said: There are none who know me for what I am.--Tzŭ Kung said: How is it, Sir, that none know you?--The Master replied: I make no complaint against Heaven, neither do I blame my fellow-men. In the study of virtue I begin at the bottom and tend upwards.[15] Surely Heaven knows me for what I am.

Tz‘ŭ, do you look upon me as a man who has studied and retained a mass of various knowledge?--I do, he replied. Am I wrong?--You are wrong, said the Master. All my knowledge is strung on one connecting thread.[16]

I used to spend whole days without food and whole nights without sleep, in order to meditate.

But I made no progress. Study, I found, was better.

Pi Hsi[17] sent an invitation to Confucius, and the Master wished to go. Tzŭ Lu, however, said: Once upon a time, Sir, I heard you say that the nobler sort of man would not enter into intimacy with one who laid himself out to do wrong. Now Pi Hsi has raised the standard of rebellion in Chung-mou. How can you think of going thither?--True, replied the Master. Those were my words. But is there not a saying: "The hard may be rubbed without losing its substance; the white may be steeped without losing its purity"? Am I then a bitter gourd--fit only to be hung up and not eaten?