CHAPTER XXIII

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CONFUCIUS AND THE CLASSICS.

Confucius! Confucius! How great was Confucius! Before him there was no Confucius! Since him there has been no other. Confucius! Confucius! How great was Confucius!

One-third of the human race would probably join in honoring Confucius. The 340,000,000 of Chinese would, without doubt, accept the sentiment of the verse at the head of this chapter--taken from a popular history of Confucius. No man in any country has left so decided an impression on his countrymen for so long a time as Confucius has left upon the Chinese. He was, without question, a great man, and was wise far beyond the men of his age. His sayings, writings and deeds stand out above those of his countrymen. He found the moral sense and religious observances of his countrymen very much debased during his time, and set himself to reform them by reviving the ancient observances and teaching the highest principles of pure morals and beneficent government.

THE BACKGROUND OF THE PICTURE.

Before looking at the story of Confucius’s life let us pause to look at the times in which he lived and his surroundings. He was born in the year 550 B.C. He was “a transmitter and not a maker,” as he said; so it is important that we should see what there was for him to transmit. We must look into the past history of the Chinese people, into their traditions and habits, and, above all, their early religion. In dim antiquity the Chinese people came into the valley of the Yellow River, through Central Asia, from the west, which was, perhaps, the cradle of the race. They journeyed across the weary wastes of the Mongolian Desert until they came to the fertile plains along the great Hwang Ho. The mountains were clad with forests. By the regular rains and fruitful soil the labors of the people were rewarded by abundant harvest, and they gradually took possession of the land. The aboriginal tribes gradually yielded to their superior prowess, discipline and civilization. Colonies were planted all over the land under the control of chieftains, or, as Mencius calls them, “Pastors of Men.” The history of China, down to about 2356 B.C., is made of legendary stories. With this period the “Book of History,” which Confucius edited, begins. Dr. R. K. Douglass, of the British Museum, thus describes the reign of the two first emperors and the religion of their times:

[Illustration: TRADITIONAL LIKENESS OF CONFUCIUS.]

Anciently there was an Emperor Yaou, all-informed, intelligent, accomplished and thoughtful; 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; and, lo! the black-haired people were transformed. He appointed astronomers to calculate and delineate the movements and appearances 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, accomplished 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 calculations of Yaou, was to sacrifice to Shang-te, the Supreme Ruler or God. “Thereafter,” we are told, “he sacrificed specially, but with the ordinary forms, to Shang-te; sacrificed with purity and reverence to the six Honored Ones; offered appropriate sacrifice to the hills and rivers; and extended his worship to the hosts of spirits.” 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 judgment. 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.

[Illustration: MONUMENTAL GATEWAY ERECTED IN HONOR OF CONFUCIUS.]

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 Yu: “What are the nine virtues?” the minister replied: “Affability combined with dignity; mildness combined with firmness; bluntness combined with respectfulness; aptness for government combined with reverence; docility combined with boldness; straightforwardness combined with gentleness; easiness combined with discrimination; vigor combined with sincerity; and valor combined with righteousness.”

THE STORY OF THE SAGE’S LIFE.

Heih, the father of Confucius, was a military officer of great bravery and immense strength. He was married to Yen Ching Tsai, Confucius’s mother, when he was seventy years old. Confucius, the child of this aged couple, was born, so the legends say, in a cave in Mount Ne. The legends tell how his birth was heralded by strange signs and appearances, how fairies attended the birth of him of whose coming Yen Ching Tsai had been warned by genii. While he was yet a boy, he loved to play in arranging the vessels of the temple-worship, and listened earnestly to the stories of the reigns of Yaou and Shun. When fifteen years old, he gave himself to more earnest study, and when nineteen he was married. His married life was unhappy, and after a year or so he was divorced from his wife. Soon after this, being very poor, he accepted the office of keeper of the stores of grain, and in the next year he became the guardian of the public fields and lands. When twenty-two years old, Confucius gave up his offices and became the teacher of an earnest band of students. He refused to teach dull or idle scholars. He said: “I do not open the truth to one who is not eager after knowledge, nor do I help any one who is not himself anxious to explain. 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 of age, Confucius studied archery, and in the next few years studied music under the celebrated music-master, Siang. The master directed his pupil to learn the air composed by the sage Wan Wang of ancient days. Confucius at once took the lute, and in obedience to Siang’s instructions, commenced to play the air. He continued it day by day.

“Five days went by, and still Confucius Played all day long the ancient simple air; And when Siang would teach him more he said: ‘Not yet, my master, I would seize the thought, The subtle thought which hides within the tune.’ To which the master answered: ‘It is well. Take five days more!’ And when the time was passed Unto Siang thus spoke Confucius: ‘I do begin to see, and yet what I see Is very dim. I am as one who looks, And nothing sees except a luminous cloud; Give me but five more days, and at the end, If I have not attained the great idea Hidden of old within the melody, I will leave music as beyond my power.’ ‘Do as thou wilt, O pupil!’ cried Siang In deepest admiration; ‘never yet Had I a scholar who was like to thee. And on the fifteenth day Confucius rose And stood before Siang, and cried aloud: ‘The mist which shadowed me is blown away; I am as one who stands upon a cliff, And gazes far and wide upon the world, For I have mastered every secret thought, Yea, every shadow of a feeling dim Which flitted through the spirit of Wan Wang When he composed that air. I speak to him, I hear him clearly answer me again; And more than that, I see his very form: A man of middle stature, with a hue Half blended with the dark and with the fair; His features long, and large sweet eyes which beam With great benevolence--a noble face! His voice is deep and full, and all his air Inspires a sense of virtue and of love. I know that I behold the very man, The sage of ancient days, Wan Wang the just.’

“Then good Siang lay down upon the dust, And said: ‘Thou art my master. Even thus The ancient legend, known to none but me, Describes our first great sire. And thou hast seen That which I never yet myself beheld, Though I have played the sacred song for years, Striving with all my soul to penetrate Its mystery unto the master’s form, Whilst thou hast reached it at a single bound; Henceforth the gods alone can teach thee tune.’”

Now, at the age of thirty, he became famous. Many youths, sons of nobles, became his willing scholars. At this time he visited Lao-tsze, the founder of Taoism. While in the capital, where Lao-tsze lived, he entered an old temple where he found a metal statue of a man with a triple clasp upon his mouth. On the back of the statue were engraved the 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 the sage to his disciples. “These words are true, and commend themselves to our reason.”

He visited various great cities and courts of emperors, and everywhere was received with honor. Confucius was saddened by the sight of so much disorder. Soon after writing the “Book of Odes” and the “Book of History,” he became magistrate of the town of Chung-Too. He now had an opportunity of putting his principles of government to the test, and the result partly justified his expectations. He framed rules for the support of the living, and for the observance of rites for the dead; he arranged appropriate food for the old and the young; and he provided for the proper separation of men and women. And the results were, we are told, that anything dropped on the road was not picked up; there was no fraudulent carving of vessels; coffins 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. Here, again, his success was complete. As soon as he was appointed he began to carry the laws into effect by punishing high-handed criminals and ere long good government resumed its sway.

[Illustration: TEMPLE OF CONFUCIUS, THE CHINESE SAGE, IN PEKING.]

Though eminently successful, the results obtained 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 mention 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 remonstrance 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? Is not he who neglects to teach his son filial duties, equally guilty with his son who fails in them? Crime is not inherent in human nature, and therefore the father in the family, and the government in the State are responsible for the crimes committed against filial piety and the public laws. If a king is careless about publishing laws, and then peremptorily punishes in accordance with the strict letter of them, he acts the part of a swindler; if he collect the taxes arbitrarily without giving warning, he is guilty of oppression; and if he puts the people to death without having instructed them, he commits a cruelty.”

Confucius had great faith in the power of example. He could not carry out all his schemes nor always adhere to his rules. Yet the people rejoiced in his rule, and at their work sang songs, describing him as their saviour from oppression and injustice. The tendencies of the times were against the enthusiastic reformer, yet he struggled on. After he was dismissed from office in Loo he became the counselor of princes. He went from State to State, and ruler to ruler, until he was sixty-nine years old. He never lost confidence in himself or in his mission. One morning, in the spring of the year 478 B.C., he walked in front of his door, saying:

“The great mountain must crumble; The strong beam must break, And the wise man withers away like a plant.”

He was now without honor among the princes. As he said, “No intelligent monarch arises; there is not one in the empire who will make me his master. My time is come to die.” That same day he took to his bed, and after a week’s sickness he died. He was buried with great tokens of respect by his disciples.

TEACHINGS AND WRITINGS OF THE CHINESE SAGE.

No man, probably, has been treated with so much contempt during his lifetime, and with so much veneration after his death, as Confucius. His life was a standing protest against the iniquities of his time. The teachings of Confucius are contained in three thin volumes, called the Lun Yu, or “Confucian Analects;” the Ta Hioh, or “Great Learning;” and the Chung Yung, or “Doctrine of the Mean.” Confucius also edited the Yeh King, or “Book of Changes;” the She King, or “Book of Odes;” and the Shoo King, or “Book of History.” He derided spiritual teaching, did not refer to the future life, and had little to say about the gods. As to where man came from, or where he was going, Confucius was never troubled. He taught, man is master of his own happiness and destiny. He might, by his own efforts, become the equal of heaven. As to morals and good government Confucius’s teachings rank high. He was really a Statesman and Reformer, rather than a Religious Teacher. Some selections from his three books will be of use as illustrating the style and substance of his teachings:

THE WISDOM OF THE SAGE.

“Is he not a man of complete virtue who feels no discomposure, though men may take no note of him?”

Tsăng, the philosopher, said, “I daily examine myself on three points--whether, in transacting business for others, I may have been not faithful; whether, in intercourse with friends, I may have been not sincere; whether I may have not mastered and practiced the instructions of my teacher.”

The Master said, “He who aims to be a man of complete virtue, in his food does not seek to gratify his appetite, nor in his dwelling-place does he seek the appliances of ease; he is earnest in what he is doing, and careful in his speech; he frequents the company of men of principle, that he may be rectified. Such a person may be said, indeed, to love to learn.”

The Master said, “I will not be afflicted at men’s not knowing me; I will be afflicted that I do not know men.”

The Master said, “At fifteen, I had my mind 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_.

“At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without transgressing what was right.”

The Master said, “The superior man is catholic and no partisan; the mean man is a partisan and no catholic.”

The Master said, “Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without learning is perilous.”

The Master said, “For a man to sacrifice to a spirit which does not belong to him is flattery.

“To see what is right, and not to do it, is want of courage.”

The Master said, “A man should say, ‘I am not concerned that I have no place; I am concerned how I may fit myself for one. I am not concerned that I am not known; I seek to be worthy to be known.’”

The Master said, “The reason why the ancients did not readily give utterance to their words was that they feared lest their actions should not come up to them.”

Tsae Yu, being asleep during the daytime, the Master said, “Rotten wood cannot be carved; a wall of dirty earth will not receive the trowel. This Yu!--what is the use of my reproving him?”

The Master said, “I have not seen a firm and unbending man.” Some one replied, “There is Shin Ch’ang.” “Ch’ang,” said the Master, “is under the influence of his lusts; how can he be firm and unbending?”

Tsze-kung said, “What I do not wish men to do to me, I also wish not to do to men.” The Master said, “Tsze, you have not attained to that.”

The Master said, “Not to do to others as you would not wish done to yourself.”

Tsze-kung asked, saying, “Is there one word 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.”

“When one cultivates to the utmost the principles of his nature, and exercises them on the principle of reciprocity, he is not far from the path. What you do not like, when done to yourself, do not do to others.”

Tsze-loo said, “I should like, sir, to hear your wishes.” The Master said, “They are, in regard to the aged, to give them rest; in regard to friends, to show them sincerity; in regard to the young, to treat them tenderly.”

The Master said, “Admirable, indeed, was the virtue of Hwuy! With a single bamboo dish of rice, a single gourd dish of drink, and living in his mean, narrow lane, while others could not have endured the distress, he did not allow his joy to be affected by it. Admirable, indeed, was the virtue of Hwuy!”

The Master said, “They who know _the truth_ are not equal to those who love it; and they who love it are not equal to those who find delight in it.”

The Master was mild, and yet dignified; majestic, and yet not fierce; respectful, and yet easy.

Tsăng said, “When a bird is about to die, its notes are mournful; when a man is about to die, his words are good.”

Confucius, in his village, looked simple and sincere, and as if he were one who was not able to speak.

Tsze-loo asked about government. The Master said, “Go before the people _with your example_, and be laborious in their affairs.”

The Master said, “The progress of the superior man is upwards; the progress of the mean man is downwards.”

The Master said, “In ancient times, men learned with a view to their own improvement. Nowadays, men learn with a view to the approbation of others.”

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