ITS SCOPE AND VALUE.
1. The Doctrine of the Mean is a work not easy to
understand. 'It first,' says the philosopher Chang, 'speaks of one
principle; it next spreads this out and embraces all things;
finally, it returns and gathers them up under the one principle.
Unroll it and it fills the universe; roll it up, and it retires and
lies hid in secrecy [2].' There is this advantage, however, to the
student of it, that more than most other Chinese Treatises it has
a beginning, a middle, and an end. The first chapter stands to all
that follows in the character of a text, containing several
propositions of which we have the expansion or development. If
that development were satisfactory, we should be able to bring
our own minds en rapport with that of the author. Unfortunately it
is not so. As a writer he belongs to the intuitional school more
than to the logical. This is well put in the 'Continuation of the
General Examination of Literary Monuments and Learned Men,'--
'The philosopher Tsang reached his conclusions by following in
the train of things, watch-
1 See the 四書拓餘說, art. 中庸.
2 See the Introductory note of Chu Hsi.
ing and examining; whereas Tsze-sze proceeds directly and
reaches to Heavenly virtue. His was a mysterious power of
discernment, approaching to that of Yen Hui [1].' We must take the
Book and the author, however, as we have them, and get to their
meaning, if we can, by assiduous examination and reflection.
2. 'Man has received his nature from Heaven. Conduct in
accordance with that nature constitutes what is right and true,--
is a pursuing of the proper Path. The cultivation or regulation of
that path is what is called Instruction.' It is with these axioms
that the Treatise commences, and from such an introduction we
might expect that the writer would go on to unfold the various
principles of duty, derived from an analysis of man's moral
constitution.
Confining himself, however, to the second axiom, he
proceeds to say that 'the path may not for an instant be left, and
that the superior man is cautious and careful in reference to what
he does not see, and fearful and apprehensive in reference to what
he does not hear. There is nothing more visible than what is
secret, and nothing more manifest than what is minute, and
therefore the superior man is watchful over his aloneness.' This
is not all very plain. Comparing it with the sixth chapter of
Commentary in the Great Learning, it seems to inculcate what is
there called 'making the thoughts sincere.' The passage contains
an admonition about equivalent to that of Solomon,-- 'Keep thy
heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.'
The next paragraph seems to speak of the nature and the
path under other names. 'While there are no movements of
pleasure, anger, sorrow, or joy, we have what may be called the
state of equilibrium. When those feelings have been moved, and
they all act in the due degree, we have what may be called the
state of harmony. This equilibrium is the great root of the world,
and this harmony is its universal path.' What is here called 'the
state of equilibrium,' is the same as the nature given by Heaven,
considered absolutely in itself, without deflection or inclination.
This nature acted on from without, and responding with the
various emotions, so as always 'to hit [2]' the mark with entire
1 See the 續文獻通考, Bk. cxcix, art. 子思,--曾子得之于隨事省察,而子思
之學,則直達天德,庶幾顏氏之妙悟.
2 中節.
correctness, produces the state of harmony, and such harmonious
response is the path along which all human activities should
proceed.
Finally. 'Let the states of equilibrium and harmony exist in
perfection, and a happy order will prevail throughout heaven and
earth, and all things will be nourished and flourish.' Here we pass
into the sphere of mystery and mysticism. The language,
according to Chu Hsi, 'describes the meritorious achievements and
transforming influence of sage and spiritual men in their highest
extent.' From the path of duty, where we tread on solid ground,
the writer suddenly raises us aloft on wings of air, and will carry
us we know not where, and to we know not what.
3. The paragraphs thus presented, and which constitute Chu
Hsi's first chapter, contain the sum of the whole Work. This is
acknowledged by all;-- by the critics who disown Chu Hsi's
interpretations of it, as freely as by him [1]. Revolving them in
my own mind often and long, I collect from them the following as
the ideas of the author:-- Firstly, Man has received from Heaven a
moral nature by which he is constituted a law to himself;
secondly, Over this nature man requires to exercise a jealous
watchfulness; and thirdly, As he possesses it, absolutely and
relatively, in perfection, or attains to such possession of it, he
becomes invested with the highest dignity and power, and may
say to himself-- 'I am a god; yea, I sit in the seat of God.' I will
not say here that there is impiety in the last of these ideas; but
do we not have in them the same combination which we found in
the Great Learning,-- a combination of the ordinary and the
extraordinary, the plain and the vague, which is very perplexing to
the mind, and renders the Book unfit for the purposes of mental
and moral discipline?
And here I may inquire whether we do right in calling the
Treatise by any of the names which foreigners have hitherto used
for it? In the note on the title, I have entered a little into this
question. The Work is not at all what a reader must expect to find
in what he supposes to be a treatise on 'The Golden Medium,' 'The
Invariable Mean,' or 'The Doctrine of the Mean.' Those
l Compare Chu Hsi's language in his concluding note to the first
chapter:-- 楊氏所謂一篇之禮要, and Mao Hsi-ho's, in his 中庸說, 卷一,
p. 11:-- 此中庸一書之領要也.
names are descriptive only of a portion of it. Where the phrase
Chung Yung occurs in the quotations from Confucius, in nearly
every chapter from the second to the eleventh, we do well to
translate it by 'the course of the Mean,' or some similar terms;
but the conception of it in Tsze-sze's mind was of a different
kind, as the preceding analysis of the first chapter sufficiently
shows [1].
4. I may return to this point of the proper title for the Work
again, but in the meantime we must proceed with the analysis of
it.-- The ten chapters from the second to the eleventh constitute
the second part, and in them Tsze-sze quotes the words of
Confucius, 'for the purpose,' according to Chu Hsi, 'of illustrating
the meaning of the first chapter.' Yet, as I have just intimated,
they do not to my mind do this. Confucius bewails the rarity of
the practice of the Mean, and graphically sets forth the difficulty
of it. 'The empire, with its component States and families, may be
ruled; dignities and emoluments may be declined; naked weapons
may be trampled under foot; but the course of the Mean can not be
attained to [2].' 'The knowing go beyond it, and the stupid do not
come up to it [3].' Yet some have attained to it. Shun did so,
humble and ever learning from people far inferior to himself [4];
and Yen Hui did so, holding fast whatever good he got hold of, and
never letting it go [5]. Tsze-lu thought the Mean could be taken by
storm, but Confucius taught him better [6]. And in fine, it is only
the sage who can fully exemplify the Mean [7].
All these citations do not throw any light on the ideas
presented in the first chapter. On the contrary, they interrupt the
train of thought. Instead of showing us how virtue, or the path of
duty is in accordance with our Heaven-given nature, they lead us
to think of it as a mean between two extremes. Each extreme may
be a violation of the law of our nature, but that is not made to
appear. Confucius's sayings would be in place in illustrating the
doctrine of the Peripatetics, 'which placed all virtue in a medium
between opposite vices [8].' Here in the Chung Yung of Tsze-sze I
have always felt them to be out of place.
5. In the twelfth chapter Tsze-sze speaks again himself,
and we seem at once to know the voice. He begins by saying that
'the way of the superior man reaches far and wide, and yet is
1 In the version in 'The Sacred Books of the East,' I call the
Treatise 'The State of Equilibrium and Harmony.'
2 Ch. ix.
3 Ch. iv.
4 Ch. vi.
5 Ch. viii.
6 Ch. x.
7 Ch. xi.
8 Encyclopaedia Britannica, Preliminary Dissertations, p. 318,
eighth edition.
secret,' by which he means to tell us that the path of duty is to be
pursued everywhere and at all times, while yet the secret spring
and rule of it is near at hand, in the Heaven-conferred nature, the
individual consciousness, with which no stranger can
intermeddle. Chu Hsi, as will be seen in the notes, gives a
different interpretation of the utterance. But the view which I
have adopted is maintained convincingly by Mao Hsi-ho in the
second part of his 'Observations on the Chung Yung.' With this
chapter commences the third part of the Work, which embraces
also the eight chapters which follow. 'It is designed,' says Chu
Hsi, 'to illustrate what is said in the first chapter that "the path
may not be left."' But more than that one sentence finds its
illustration here. Tsze-sze had reference in it also to what he had
said-- 'The superior man does not wait till he sees things to be
cautious, nor till he hears things to be apprehensive. There is
nothing more visible than what is secret, and nothing more
manifest than what is minute. Therefore, the superior man is
watchful over himself when he is alone.' It is in this portion of
the Chung Yung that we find a good deal of moral instruction
which is really valuable. Most of it consists of sayings of
Confucius, but the sentiments of Tsze-sze himself in his own
language are interspersed with them. The sage of China has no
higher utterances than those which are given in the thirteenth
chapter.-- 'The path is not far from man. When men try to pursue a
course which is far from the common indications of
consciousness, this course cannot be considered the path. In the
Book of Poetry it is said--
"In hewing an axe-handle, in hewing an axe-handle,
The pattern is not far off."
We grasp one axe-handle to hew the other, and yet if we look
askance from the one to the other, we may consider them as
apart. Therefore, the superior man governs men according to their
nature, with what is proper to them; and as soon as they change
what is wrong, he stops. When one cultivates to the utmost the
moral principles of his nature, and exercises them on the
principle of reciprocity, he is not far from the path. What you do
not like when done to yourself, do not do to others.'
'In the way of the superior man there are four things, to
none of which have I as yet attained.-- To serve my father as I
would require my son to serve me: to this I have not attained; to
serve
my elder brother as I would require my younger brother to serve
me: to this I have not attained; to serve my ruler as I would
require my minister to serve me: to this I have not attained; to
set the example in behaving to a friend as I would require him to
behave to me: to this I have not attained. Earnest in practising the
ordinary virtues, and careful in speaking about them; if in his
practice he has anything defective, the superior man dares not but
exert himself; and if in his words he has any excess, he dares not
allow himself such license. Thus his words have respect to his
actions, and his actions have respect to his words;-- is it not
just an entire sincerity which marks the superior man?'
We have here the golden rule in its negative form expressly
propounded:-- 'What you do not like when done to yourself, do not
do to others.' But in the paragraph which follows we have the rule
virtually in its positive form. Confucius recognises the duty of
taking the initiative,-- of behaving himself to others in the first
instance as he would that they should behave to him. There is a
certain narrowness, indeed, in that the sphere of its operations
seems to be confined to the relations of society, which are
spoken of more at large in the twentieth chapter, but let us not
grudge the tribute of our warm approbation to the sentiments.
This chapter is followed by two from Tsze-sze, to the
effect that the superior man does what is proper in every change
of his situation, always finding his rule in himself; and that in
his practice there is an orderly advance from step to step,-- from
what is near to what is remote. Then follow five chapters from
Confucius:-- the first, on the operation and influence of spiritual
beings, to show 'the manifestness of what is minute, and the
irrepressibleness of sincerity;' the second, on the filial piety of
Shun, and how it was rewarded by Heaven with the throne, with
enduring fame, and with long life; the third and fourth, on the
kings Wan and Wu, and the duke of Chau, celebrating them for
their filial piety and other associate virtues; and the fifth, on the
subject of government. These chapters are interesting enough in
themselves, but when I go back from them, and examine whether I
have from them any better understanding of the paragraphs in the
first chapter which they are said to illustrate, I do not find that I
have. Three of them, the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth,
would be more in place in the Classic of Filial Piety than here in
the Chung Yung. The meaning of the
sixteenth is shadowy and undefined. After all the study which I
have directed to it, there are some points in reference to which I
have still doubts and difficulties.
The twentieth chapter, which concludes the third portion of
the Work, contains a full exposition of Confucius's views on
government, though professedly descriptive only of that of the
kings Wan and Wu. Along with lessons proper for a ruler there are
many also of universal application, but the mingling of them
perplexes the mind. It tells us of 'the five duties of universal
application,'-- those between sovereign and minister, husband and
wife, father and son, elder and younger brother, and friends; of
'the three virtues by which those duties are carried into effect,'
namely, knowledge, benevolence, and energy; and of 'the one thing,
by which those virtues are practised,' which is singleness or
sincerity [1]. It sets forth in detail the 'nine standard rules for
the administration of government,' which are 'the cultivation by
the ruler of his own character; the honouring men of virtue and
talents; affection to his relatives; respect towards the great
ministers; kind and considerate treatment of the whole body of
officers; cherishing the mass of the people as children;
encouraging all classes of artisans; indulgent treatment of men
from a distance; and the kindly cherishing of the princes of the
States [2].' There are these and other equally interesting topics in
this chapter; but, as they are in the Work, they distract the mind,
instead of making the author's great object more clear to it, and I
will not say more upon them here.
6. Doubtless it was the mention of 'singleness,' or
'sincerity,' in the twentieth chapter, which made Tsze-sze
introduce it into this Treatise, for from those terms he is able to
go on to develop what he intended in saying that 'if the states of
Equilibrium and Harmony exist in perfection, a happy order will
prevail throughout heaven and earth, and all things will be
nourished and flourish.' It is here, that now we are astonished at
the audacity of the writer's assertions, and now lost in vain
endeavours to ascertain his meaning. I have quoted the words of
Confucius that it is 'singleness' by which the three virtues of
knowledge, benevolence, and energy are able to carry into
practice the duties of universal obligation. He says also that it is
this same 'singleness' by which 'the nine standard rules of
government' can be effectively carried out [3]. This 'singleness' is
merely a name for 'the states of Equilibrium
1 Par. 8.
2 Par. 12.
3 Par. 15.
and Harmony existing in perfection.' It denotes a character
absolutely and relatively good, wanting nothing in itself, and
correct in all its outgoings. 'Sincerity' is another term for the
same thing, and in speaking about it, Confucius makes a
distinction between sincerity absolute and sincerity acquired.
The former is born with some, and practised by them without any
effort; the latter is attained by study, and practised by strong
endeavour [1]. The former is 'the way of Heaven;' the latter is 'the
way of men [2].' 'He who possesses sincerity,'-- absolutely, that
is,-- 'is he who without effort hits what is right, and apprehends
without the exercise of thought; he is the sage who naturally and
easily embodies the right way. He who attains to sincerity, is he
who chooses what is good and firmly holds it fast. And to this
attainment there are requisite the extensive study of what is
good, accurate inquiry about it, careful reflection on it, the clear
discrimination of it, and the earnest practice of it [3].' In these
passages Confucius unhesitatingly enunciates his belief that
there are some men who are absolutely perfect, who come into
the world as we might conceive the first man was, when he was
created by God 'in His own image,' full of knowledge and
righteousness, and who grow up as we know that Christ did,
'increasing in wisdom and in stature.' He disclaimed being
considered to be such an one himself [4], but the sages of China
were such. And moreover, others who are not so naturally may
make themselves to become so. Some will have to put forth more
effort and to contend with greater struggles, but the end will be
the possession of the knowledge and the achievement of the
practice.
I need not say that these sentiments are contrary to the
views of human nature which are presented in the Bible. The
testimony of Revelation is that 'there is not a just man upon
earth that doeth good and sinneth not.' 'If we say that we have no
sin,' and in writing this term, I am thinking here not of sin
against God, but, if we can conceive of it apart from that, of
failures in regard to what ought to be in our regulation of
ourselves, and in our behavior to others;-- 'if we say that we have
no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.' This
language is appropriate in the lips of the learned as well as in
those of the ignorant, to the highest sage as to the lowest child
of the soil. Neither the scriptures of God nor the experience of
man know of individuals
1 Par. 9.
2 Par. 18.
3 Pars. 18, 19.
4 Ana. VII. xix.
absolutely perfect. The other sentiment that men can make
themselves perfect is equally wide of the truth. Intelligence and
goodness by no means stand to each other in the relation of cause
and effect. The sayings of Ovid, 'Video meliora proboque,
deteriora sequor,' 'Nitimur in velitum semper. cupimusque negata,'
are a more correct expression of the facts of human
consciousness and conduct than the high-flown praises of
Confucius.
7. But Tsze-sze adopts the dicta of his grandfather without
questioning them, and gives them forth in his own style at the
commencement of the fourth part of his Treatise. 'When we have
intelligence resulting from sincerity, this condition is to be
ascribed to nature; when we have sincerity resulting from
intelligence, this condition is to be ascribed to instruction. But
given the sincerity, and there shall be the intelligence; given the
intelligence, and there shall be the sincerity [1].'
Tsze-sze does more than adopt the dicta of Confucius. He
applies them in a way which the Sage never did, and which he
would probably have shrunk from doing. The sincere, or perfect
man of Confucius, is he who satisfies completely all the
requirements of duty in the various relations of society, and in
the exercise of government; but the sincere man of Tsze-sze is a
potency in the universe. 'Able to give its full development to his
own nature, he can do the same to the nature of other men. Able to
give its full development to the nature of other men, he can give
their full development to the natures of animals and things. Able
to give their full development to the natures of creatures and
things, he can assist the transforming and nourishing powers of
Heaven and Earth. Able to assist the transforming and nourishing
powers of Heaven and Earth, he may with Heaven and Earth form a
ternion [2].' Such are the results of sincerity natural. The case
below this -- of sincerity acquired, is as follows,-- 'The
individual cultivates its shoots. From these he can attain to the
possession of sincerity. This sincerity becomes apparent. From
being apparent, it becomes manifest. From being manifest, it
becomes brilliant. Brilliant, it affects others. Affecting others,
they are changed by it. Changed by it, they are transformed. It is
only he who is possessed of the most complete sincerity that can
exist under heaven, who can transform [3].' It may safely be
affirmed, that when he thus expressed himself, Tsze-sze
understood neither what he said nor
1 Ch. xxi.
2 Ch. xxii.
3 Ch. xxiii.
whereof he affirmed. Mao Hsi-ho and some other modern writers
explain away many of his predicates of sincerity, so that in their
hands they become nothing but extravagant hyperboles, but the
author himself would, I believe, have protested against such a
mode of dealing with his words. True, his structures are castles
in the air, but he had no idea himself that they were so.
In the twenty-fourth chapter there is a ridiculous descent
from the sublimity of the two preceding. We are told that the
possessor of entire sincerity is like a spirit and can foreknow,
but the foreknowledge is only a judging by the milfoil and
tortoise and other auguries! But the author recovers himself, and
resumes his theme about sincerity as conducting to self-
completion and the completion of other men and things,
describing it also as possessing all the qualities which can be
predicated of Heaven and Earth. Gradually the subject is made to
converge to the person of Confucius, who is the ideal of the sage,
as the sage is the ideal of humanity at large. An old account of
the object of Tsze-sze in the Chung Yung is that he wrote it to
celebrate the virtue of his grandfather [1]. He certainly contrives
to do this in the course of it. The thirtieth, thirty-first, and
thirty-second chapters contain his eulogium, and never has any
other mortal been exalted in such terms. 'He may be compared to
heaven and earth in their supporting and containing, their over-
shadowing and curtaining all things; he may be compared to the
four seasons in their alternating progress, and to the sun and
moon in their successive shining.' 'Quick in apprehension, clear in
discernment, of far-reaching intelligence, and all-embracing
knowledge, he was fitted to exercise rule; magnanimous,
generous, benign, and mild, he was fitted to exercise forbearance;
impulsive, energetic, strong, and enduring, he was fitted to
maintain a firm hold; self-adjusted, grave, never swerving from
the Mean, and correct, he was fitted to command reverence;
accomplished, distinctive, concentrative, and searching, he was
fitted to exercise discrimination.' 'All-embracing and vast, he
was like heaven; deep and active as a fountain, he was like the
abyss.' 'Therefore his fame overspreads the Middle Kingdom, and
extends to all barbarous tribes. Wherever ships and carriages
reach; wherever the strength of man penetrates; wherever the
heavens overshadow
1 唐陸德明釋文謂孔子之孫,子思,作此以昭明祖德; see the 中庸唐說一, p. 1.
and the earth sustains; wherever the sun and moon shine;
wherever frosts and dews fall;-- all who have blood and breath
unfeignedly honour and love him. Hence it is said,-- He is the
equal of Heaven!' 'Who can know him but he who is indeed quick in
apprehension, clear in discernment, of far-reaching intelligence,
and all-embracing knowledge, possessing all heavenly virtue?'
8. We have arrived at the concluding chapter of the Work, in
which the author, according to Chu Hsi, 'having carried his
descriptions to the highest point in the preceding chapters, turns
back and examines the source of his subject; and then again from
the work of the learner, free from all selfishness and watchful
over himself when he is alone, he carries out his description, till
by easy steps he brings it to the consummation of the whole
world tranquillized by simple and sincere reverentialness. He
moreover eulogizes its mysteriousness, till he speaks of it at
last as without sound or smell [1].' Between the first and last
chapters there is a correspondency, and each of them may be
considered as a summary of the whole treatise. The difference
between them is, that in the first a commencement is made with
the mention of Heaven as the conferrer of man's nature, while in
this the progress of man in virtue is traced, step by step, till at
last it is equal to that of High Heaven.
9. I have thus in the preceding paragraphs given a general
and somewhat copious review of this Work. My object has been to
seize, if I could, the train of thought and to hold it up to the
reader. Minor objections to it, arising from the confused use of
terms and singular applications of passages from the older
Classics, are noticed in the notes subjoined to the translation. I
wished here that its scope should be seen, and the means be
afforded of judging how far it is worthy of the high character
attributed to it. 'The relish of it,' says the younger Ch'ang, 'is
inexhaustible. The whole of it is solid learning. When the skilful
reader has explored it with delight till he has apprehended it, he
may carry it into practice all his life, and will find that it cannot
be exhausted [2].'
My own opinion of it is less favourable. The names by which
it has been called in translations of it have led to misconceptions
of its character. Were it styled 'The states of Equilibrium and
Harmony,' we should be prepared to expect something strange and
probably extravagant. Assuredly we should expect nothing more
1 See the concluding note by Chu Hsi.
2 See the Introductory note below.
strange or extravagant than what we have. It begins sufficiently
well, but the author has hardly enunciated his preliminary
apophthegms, when he conducts into an obscurity where we can
hardly grope our way, and when we emerge from that, it is to be
bewildered by his gorgeous but unsubstantial pictures of sagely
perfection. He has eminently contributed to nourish the pride of
his countrymen. He has exalted their sages above all that is called
God or is worshipped, and taught the masses of the people that
with them they have need of nothing from without. In the
meantime it is antagonistic to Christianity. By-and-by, when
Christianity has prevailed in China, men will refer to it as a
striking proof how their fathers by their wisdom knew neither
God nor themselves.