CHAPTER XXIII.

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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