LAO-TZŬ AND CONFUCIUS.
It is not unusual for foreigners no less than for Chinese to speak of
Lao-tzŭ and Confucius as having lived on very bad terms with each
other and as having been diametrically opposite in their teachings.
One Chinese scholar who ought to have known much better sins very
badly in this respect. The excellent little book of Mr. Edkins on the
Religious Condition of the Chinese contains the following:
“Contemporary with Confucius, there was an old man afterwards known as
Laou-tsoo, who meditated in a philosophic mood upon the more profound
necessities and capacities of the human soul. He did so in a way that
Confucius, the prophet of the practical, could not well comprehend. He
conversed with him once, but never repeated his visit, for he could
not understand him. Laou-tsoo recommended quiet reflection. Water that
is still is also clear, and you may see deeply into it. Noise and
passion are fatal to spiritual progress. The stars are invisible
through a clouded sky. Nourish the perceptive powers of the soul in
purity and rest.”[1] Others have expressed a similar opinion and with
no more accuracy. This view, however, is not strictly correct. As has
been seen, Confucius was a disciple of Lao-tzŭ, and there is no
evidence to prove that any other than friendly relations existed
between them. A Confucianist philosopher has somewhere remarked that
Confucius and Lao-tzŭ were not the authors of opposite systems and
founders of rival schools of philosophy, and the observation is quite
correct. It was not until long after the two sages were dead that the
followers of the one came to look on those of the other as heretics
and enemies. Not only, however, did Confucius himself live in
friendship with his instructor, so far as we know, but he also imbibed
not a few of his tenets. The influence of Lao-tzŭ on his disciple, and
the amount of similarity between the doctrines of the two are subjects
well deserving a serious study. That they differ widely on many points
is a fact known to everybody, but few, so far as my knowledge extends,
have studied the affinities between them. To a thorough-going
Confucianist the mere idea of doing such a a thing is horrible, and
the Temple of Literature closed against the reception of the tablets
of the rare individuals who have essayed the task, deters the after
generations. By one, however, not anxious about his posthumous tablet,
and who takes pleasure in finding how near the divergent lines of
orthodoxy and heterodoxy may be found to have originally converged,
the work may be attempted without any misgivings. The present writer
can do nothing more than merely try to sketch a few of the features of
resemblance between the teachings of the two sages in speculative
Physics, Politics and Ethics, following the division adopted above.
The theories of Lao-tzŭ and Confucius on the physical world being
probably merely the popular and traditional notions of the time, might
naturally be expected to have not a little in common. For example, the
emanation of the visible universe, including also all that makes up
man, from an eternal existence at once material and immaterial, seems
to have been an old idea with the Chinese, and it is found in the
teachings of both the sages. Thus, as has been seen, the Tʽai-chi
(太極) or Grand Extreme, as it is translated, is only _Tao_ under
another name. Indeed Confucius uses the latter word in this
connection very much after the manner of Lao-tzŭ. In the appendix to
the Yi-ching (易經) it is stated that what is antecedent to external
form is called _Tao_; and in another passage it is said that one
passive and one active element (one Yin and one Yang) are called
Tao.[3] In the Li-chi (禮記) Confucius says to Tzŭ-kung that _Tao_ is
that which the whole world, (天下 may also mean the empire),
esteems.[4] Other writers also, such as the author of the preface to
the Yi-ching, distinctly assert that the two terms Tʽai-chi and Tao
have the same signification. Lao-tzŭ’s doctrine of dualism also, and
his theory that contraries produce each other are found explicitly
taught in the Confucian classics. Thus the Yi-ching says that hard and
soft alternately thrust each other forth,[5] and in another passage it
is said that the Yin and the Yang, or the passive and active elements
or powers of nature, generate each other. Again Lao-tzŭ teaches that
all the operations of Nature (Tao) and Heaven and earth are carried on
without any show of effort, silently and quietly. So also does
Confucius teach. In the Li-chi, for example, he says that the
Tʽien-tao or Way of Heaven is to be without exertion and yet have the
world completed.[6] In the Chung-yung a similar observation is made
respecting Chʽêng (誠) which Legge translates “sincerity” but which is
evidently another designation of Tao, as Mr. Meadows long ago
stated.[7] Further, it is almost unnecessary to state that in the
quinary classification of such things as tastes and colours our two
sages perfectly agree. Not only, however, do we find the same ideas on
these matters in Confucian classics and the Tao-tê Ching but we also
not seldom find in them similar forms of expression.[8] Thus, for
instance, the poetical metaphor by which Lao-tzŭ speaks of the sea and
the great rivers as being kings to the small streams which flow into
them is found in the Shu King and the Shi Khing. In the former the
Chiang (江) and Han (漢) are described as proceeding to the sovereign
Court of the Sea,[9] and in the latter it is written that the full
tide flows back to pay court to the sea, but the people of the country
forget their allegiance. It may be mentioned that we ourselves speak
of _tributary_ streams, and Tennyson has expressed the Chinese idea
fully in the words
“Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver.”
Coming now to Politics we find that on Government and other matters
connected with the State, the Confucian writings contain many opinions
closely resembling those of Lao-tzŭ. Thus in the Lun-yü, Book xv.,
Confucius is represented as saying—“May not Shun be instanced as
having governed efficiently without exertion? What did he do? He did
nothing but gravely and reverently occupy his imperial seat.” Here the
very expression of the Tao-tê Ching is used—無爲而治—and Dr. Legge has,
I think, rightly translated wu-wei by “without exertion.”[10] So also
in the Shu King it is said of King Wu, after his war with Shou was
finished, that “he had only to let his robes fall down, and fold his
hands, and the empire was orderly ruled.”[11] Other passages in the
Lun-yü show us that Confucius also disliked war, and the petty
squabbles into which the ambitious feudal chiefs of his time were
constantly falling. Again, Lao-tzŭ has been greatly reproached by
Confucianists and others for declining to continue in office under the
kings of Chow, but he went little farther in this respect than his
more fortunate disciple who was more earthly wise though less
politically consistent. Each kept his precious gem secreted for years,
but there was this difference, that Confucius was eager for a bidder
who would please him, and Lao-tzŭ seeing there was no chance of a
suitable bidder preferred to keep his gem. Not only, however, did
Confucius himself abstain for a considerable time from active official
life, but he also commended those of the past and some of his
contemporaries who had retired into privacy during evil times, and his
approbation of Ning-wu’s conduct is expressed in language worthy of
Lao-tzŭ.[12] Besides, Confucius had the utmost contempt for the
mandarins and chiefs of his time, and regarded them as either utter
villains or as mere nobodies.[13] Again, just as Lao-tzŭ teaches that
the ruler must first correct himself, making the purity of his own
inner life his first and greatest care and then cultivating moral
excellence in his family, so Confucius repeatedly teaches the same
doctrine and illustrates it by the example of the ancients. Like ruler
like people, is a maxim with him. If the sovereign be wicked the
people also will be wicked, and if he be good they also will be
good.[14] Lao-tzŭ says that government must be conducted by
uprightness or rectitude (正). So Confucius says that to govern means
to rectify, and in another passage he depicts the evil results of a
government which is not conducted in uprightness. Another political
doctrine which is stated expressly in the Tao-tê Ching is that capital
punishment is the work of a superhuman agent and that no one on earth
can safely act as proxy for that agent. Through all the Confucian
writings also there runs the idea that it is Heaven or the Upper Ruler
that is offended with wicked states, rebellious chiefs, or oppressive
rulers, and that all national rewards and punishments come from the
same source. Confucius, however, and his followers seem to have
believed that the virtuous neighbouring state, the pious sovereign, or
the successful rebel received a Heavenly edict to annex the wicked
territory, slay the mutinous chief, or dethrone the impious prince—a
political idea not confined to ancient times or to China. Yet there
are several passages in the Classics which seem to represent
Confucius, too, as forbidding, or at least disapproving of, capital
punishment. Thus in the Lun-yü he is made to say to Chi-kʽang, who had
asked him about slaying the bad in order to perfect the good—“Why use
capital punishment at all? Do you desire virtue and the people will be
virtuous. The moral character of the ruler is to that of his subjects
as wind is to grass—when the wind blows the grass bends.”[15] And in
another passage he is represented as approving of an old saying that
after good government for a hundred years capital punishment might be
dispensed with.[16] Another maxim of the Tao-tê Ching also inculcated
by Confucius is this—that the sovereign ought to anticipate and be
prepared for reverses of fortune—that he ought to devise measures for
repressing rebellion while as yet there is no sign of disturbance;
this, says the Shu King, was the method pursued by the ancient
rulers.[17] So also both sages taught that the ruler should always be
grave and serious, mindful of the solemn charge which he has received
from Heaven.[18] In the Confucian writings, again, no less than in the
Tao-tê Ching, rulers are forbidden to covet and strive for rare and
outlandish objects, such things having a tendency to stir up strife
and lead the heart astray.[19] Further in the high pre-eminence
assigned to the sovereign, Confucius is of the same mind with Lao-tzŭ.
As the latter ranks him with Heaven and Earth, so also does the
former.[20] In the opinion of each he reigns by divine right, and is
himself indeed at least half divine. Son of Heaven is a frequent
designation of him in the Classics. Confucius indeed in some places is
much more wildly extravagant in his statements about the sovereign
than we would be inclined to expect. Finally, to both sages the great
and paramount consideration for a prince or chief seemed to be the
peace and prosperity of his people. Light taxes, few legal
restrictions, and a general kind treatment are strongly recommended by
both.[21] They differ, however, in this respect that while Lao-tzŭ
overlooks or slights education, Confucius regards it as of great
importance; but few who know the nature of the education which
Confucius recommended to his son of carp-derived name, but which he
did not give him, would be disposed to regret the want of it in a
ruler or magistrate.
It now remains to speak of the Ethical teachings of Lao-tzŭ and
Confucius, and here also we find considerable similarity, only a few
instances of which can now be indicated. As Confucius disclaimed the
distinction of being original in his views, I am much inclined to
believe that the resemblance between the doctrines of the classics and
those of the Tao-tê Ching often point to a borrowing on the part of
the former from the latter. The low place which is assigned to
intellectual and mechanical accomplishment in this work seems to be
wrong, and Confucius would scarcely go so far. He too, however, places
virtue above wisdom, and seems sometimes to think that perfect virtue
ensures to its possessor other and less noble qualities. He is not
unmindful of the value of intellectual acquirements and assigns to
them considerable importance. It must be remembered besides that the
accomplishments of which Lao-tzŭ speaks disparagingly are those
more for show than utility, and that in this respect Confucius
is at one with him. The vice of talking specious and flattering words
is condemned by the one as strongly as by the other. Artful words and
a clever appearance are seldom virtuous, is a sentence which Confucius
is represented as repeating on several occasions.[22] In the Yi-ching
it is said that the good man talks little and the violent man talks
much.[23] Here it is worthy of notice that the word which is opposed
to _chi_ (吉), good, is not _hsiung_ (凶), wicked, but _tsʽao_ (躁), a
word which means fierce or violent. Indeed Confucius insists on the
gentle life no less earnestly than Lao-tzŭ, although he is not always
consistent. He also recommends abstinence from litigation. Like
Lao-tzŭ he teaches that the man of extensive influence ought to abase
himself before others—ought to yield and never wrangle.[24] On some
occasions Confucius is represented as holding the maxim that what a
man would not desire another to do to him he should not do to
others,[25] while he is also represented as objecting to the words of
Lao-tzŭ that injury should be repaid by kindness.[26] But on the other
hand he makes it one of the characteristics of the Chŭn-tzŭ (君子) or
noble man, that he does not strive, and a yielding, forbearing
disposition is one of the virtues which admiring disciples have
assigned to “the Master” himself. In connection with this it may be
mentioned that the Confucian writings are as bitter as the Tao-tê
Ching against the show and consciousness of being virtuous. The words
of the Emperor Shun to Yü as recorded in the Shu King are very like
those of Lao-tzŭ, “Without any prideful presumption, there is no one
in the empire to contest with you the palm of ability; without any
boasting, there is no one in the empire to contest with you the claim
of merit.”[27]
The lofty eminence on which Lao-tzŭ places the God-like man is not
greater than that to which Confucius raises him. This person ranks,
according to both, with Heaven and Earth, and assists these in their
great unceasing labours of producing, nourishing, and ruling the
creatures of the universe.[28] With Heaven and Earth he makes a
trinity, and is scarcely inferior to them. Like Heaven, which he
imitates, he is free from partialities, and is universal in his
sympathies.[29] One of the philosophers, Chʽêng, a Confucianist after
the most straitest sect, forgets his master’s doctrine in this respect
and through excess of orthodoxy actually becomes heterodox.[30]
Criticising Lao-tzŭ’s statement that Heaven, Earth, and the God-like
man are _pu jen_ (不仁), that is, are without any partialities or
particular affection, he says that we may make this remark of Heaven
and Earth but not of the God-like man who feels for and compassionates
his fellow creatures, and thus is able to enlarge his way of life.[31]
This author, however, seems to be here guilty of a _sophisma
equivocationis_, as _jĕn_ in the former part of the paragraph is used
in a bad sense while in the latter part it has a good sense. The words
of the King of Chow to the newly appointed Chief Hu on this subject
are very similar to those of Lao-tzŭ—“Great Heaven has no
affections—it helps only the virtuous.”[32] So also, as Lao-tzŭ says
it is Heaven’s way to take from that which has too much and give to
that which wants, the _Shu-ching_ says in like terms “It is virtue
which moves Heaven; there is no distance to which it does not reach.
Pride brings loss, and humility receives increase:—this is the way of
Heaven.”[33]
Again, the doctrine of the Tao-tê Ching, that violence and excess
cannot endure, appears also in the Confucian works. It occurs, for
instance, in the Li-chi, and it is worthy of observation that the
illustrious commentator on the passage regards the expression there
used as a quotation, but does not know from what work.[34] Had the
words been identical there could not have been any possibility of
doubt. There is also a common saying among the Chinese, derived from
the Yi-ching, that when the sun has reached his meridian he begins to
decline, and when the moon has reached her full she begins to wane,
thus intimating the fickleness of fortune. This idea is represented in
the Tao-tê Ching under a different figure.
In many passages of the books which go by his name, Confucius is made
to impress on his disciples the necessity of attending to what is
unseen and internal, and taking it for granted that the visible and
external will follow as a natural consequence.[35] In this too he is
nearly like to Lao-tzŭ. One passage of the Lun-yü even speaks of _Li_
(禮), or the full complement of external virtues, on which Confucius
generally lays great stress as something to be postponed to the
genuine qualities of the heart.[36] The whole of the thirty-third
chapter of the Chung-yung may be regarded as a sort of commentary on
what Lao-tzŭ has said on this and some other topics. The passages
quoted in this chapter from the Shi-ching are merely texts which have
not the slightest reference to the homilies on them except in one or
two cases.
Further, as Lao-tzŭ believed in a long-past time of simplicity and
purity, so also did Confucius, and his love for antiquity and his
esteem for the ancient sages were perhaps even greater than those of
Lao-tzŭ.[37] Of the five characteristics given of the old kings who
had kept good government in their kingdoms the first is that they
honoured those who had Te (德), that is, their perfect inborn nature,
and this is explained to mean those who approach _Tao_. Both sages
represent the ancients as solid and not showy, as wanting in
intellectual arts but perfect in simple virtue. They should be, both
thought, in the conduct of life no less than in affairs of State the
models for all after generations. Turn to the good old paths wherein
our forefathers walked who were better than we, is what Lao-tzŭ and
Confucius equally teach. Go back, says the latter, to the days of Yao
and Shun, and Yü, and kings Wên and Wu, and Duke Chou, and make them
your patterns in all things even as they made Heaven theirs. Ascend
still further, says Lao-tzŭ, and follow the lives of those primitive
worthies who died before the arts and vices of civilisation had
appeared on the earth.
What the inducements are which Lao-tzŭ holds out to a life of
self-subduing and virtue has been seen already, and those which the
Confucian books hold out to such a life are very similar.[38] An
insight into the mysteries of Providence, length of years, a peaceful
death, and a good name among men are the chief rewards for such a
life. Confucius in one place is represented as making perfect
knowledge precede self-purification.[39] This, however, is not, I
think, in accordance with the general spirit of his teachings, and if
he ever did make the statement reported it is probably only one of
those nonsensical utterances which he seems to have occasionally made,
solely for the purpose of having a long string of short sentences. The
statement in question is even on Chu-hsi’s interpretation absurd and
impossible.
In their views about death, also, our two sages seem to have been much
alike. They do not refer to a state of existence hereafter, and they
seem to have regarded the grave as the end of man, so far as his
consciousness of being was concerned, at least. On this subject,
however, we must speak with caution as the utterances of both are few
and dark.
A few general observations will now conclude these rather disjointed
remarks about the points of similarity in the Tao-tê Ching and the
Confucian classics. The Chung-yung, or Constant Mean, called by Dr.
Legge the Doctrine of the Mean, amplifies and illustrates several of
Lao-tzŭ’s teachings, and every reader of the book must have observed
the frequency of the occurrence of the word Tao in it. The expression
Chung-yung is, indeed, sometimes almost convertible with this word,
and Confucius speaks of _keeping_ it in terms very similar to those
which Lao-tzŭ uses about Tao. Again, the Li (禮) of the Li-chi, Lun-yü,
and other works is a word of far wider and deeper signification than
our translations usually represent. It seems often to indicate the
carrying out of the theoretical Tao into practical life.[40] Several
passages in the classic, named from the word, might be cited in
support of the above view, and in one remarkable sentence, Confucius
says that Li must have had its origin in the “Great One.”[41] The
Shu-ching, or Classic of historical excerpts, contains, as has been
seen, many doctrines and sayings similar to those of the Tao-tê Ching,
and a similar remark applies to the Yi-Ching, especially to its
appendix. The collection of early moral and immoral ballads usually
dignified by the title Shi-ching or Classic of poetry, as might have
been expected, does not throw much light on the influence exercised by
Lao-tzŭ over Confucius or the similarity of their teachings, and the
same is true of the Chʽun-chʽiu (春秋) or Annals of his Dynasty by
Confucius. Descending to Mencius we find in the sayings recorded of
him many doctrines very like some of Lao-tzŭ’s, and it is a remarkable
fact that he never refers to the latter either in praise or in
dispraise. Later Confucianists have regarded their Master as a born
sage, and they would generally scout the idea that he was under
serious obligations to any one, and to Lao-tzŭ in particular.
While noticing the many points of affinity between Lao-tzŭ and
Confucius, we ought not to forget that there are at the same time
great and important differences between them. The type of mind of the
former does not very much resemble that of the latter. Lao-tzŭ is
chiefly synthetic and Confucius analytic in tendency. The former likes
to sum up particular virtues and existences, and refer them to one
all-embracing idea. The latter shows how one great principle branches
off and becomes separated into many secondary odes and finally
permeates all things. The one is a philosopher at home, and the other
a schoolmaster abroad. The relation between the two may in some
respects be compared to that between Plato and Aristotle, if it be
lawful to compare small things with great. The character of Plato’s
mind also somewhat resembles that of Lao-tzŭ, while Aristotle is very
faintly foreshadowed in Confucius. He was a disciple of Plato and yet
he came to differ very widely from his master, but not more than
Confucius did from Lao-tzŭ. In both cases the disciple became more
practical and less theoretical than his master. Yet it must be borne
in mind that many of Confucius’ teachings in politics and morals are
either nonsensical or at least vague and incomprehensible, and that
Lao-tzŭ’s general theories are not seldom applicable to particulars
and the actual world.
[1] Page 9.
[2] Vol. ii., Appendix, ch. 12.
[3] Vol. ii., Appendix, ch. 5.
[4] Ch. 10, page 65, compare also the Chung-Yung, ch. 27.
[5] Vol. ii., Appendix, ch. 2.
[6] Ch. 9, p. 6. See also the remarks of Callery in his note to this
passage. Li-ki, p. 142.
[7] Chinese Classics, vol. i., p. 282 3–4. The Chinese and their
Rebellions, p. 351.
[8] Compare Yi-ching, Vol. ii., Appendix, ch. 11, with the Tao-tê
ching, ch. 6.
[9] Legge’s Shu, vol. i., p. 113.
[10] Chinese Classics, vol. 1, p. 159.
[11] Legge’s Shu King, vol. ii., p. 316.
[12] Legge’s Ch. Classics, vol, i., p. 44.
[13] See for instance Legge, Ch. Classics, vol. i., p. 136.
[14] See Legge, vol. i., ps. 122, 130; also the Li-chi, ch. 4, p. 52.
[15] Legge, &c., vol. i., p. 122.
[16] Legge, &c., vol. i., p. 131.
[17] Legge’s Shu King, vol. ii., p. 525. Vol. i., p. 257.
[18] Legge’s Shu King, vol. i., p. 74, also vol. ii., p. 532.
[19] Legge’s Shu King, vol. i., p. 349. Vol. ii., p. 574.
[20] See Li-chi, ch, 8, p. 70.
[21] Legge Shu King, &c., vol. i., p. 158.
[22] See Legge, Ch. Classics, vol. i., 166 and p. 3. Compare also the
memorable words in the Li-chi, ch. 9, p. 489.
[23] Vol. ii., Appendix, Part 2, ch. 12.
[24] See Legge Ch. Classics, vol. i, p. 21.
[25] See Legge, vol. i., p. 165.
[26] See Legge, vol. i., p. 152.
[27] Legge’s Shu King, vol. i., p. 60. See also Dr. Legge’s note on
the passage. See also do. p. 257.
[28] See Li-chi, ch. 4, p. 52.
[29] See Legge’s Chinese Classics, vol. i., p. 14.
[30] See the 性理縹題, ch., 17, p. 2.
[31] A quotation from the Lun-yü, B. xv, ch. 28.
[32] Legge’s Shu king, vol. ii., p. 490. See also, vol. i., p. 209.
[33] Legge’s voL i., p. 65. Reference is apparently made to the
Yi-ching where 謙 and 損 are two of the Diagrams. It is a
wonder that this escaped Dr. Legge’s notice.
[34] See Li-chi, ch. 1, p. 1, and Chu-hsi’s note.
[35] Compare on this, other topics mentioned by Lao-tzŭ, the character
of the 儒 in the Li-chi, ch. 10.
[36] Legge’s Ch. Classics, vol. i., p. 21.
[37] See Legge’s Shu, &c., vol. ii., p. 491.
[38] For the duty of self-denial at certain times see the Li-chi,
ch. 3, p. 53, and Callery’s Li-ki, p. 31.
[39] The Great Learning. See Legge’s Ch. Classics, vol. i., p. 222.
[40] In the Li-chi, Confucius says that as a parrot does not cease to
be a bird though it can speak, so though creatures have the
appearance of men, yet if they have not Li they are not men.
Ch. 1., p. 4.
[41] Li-chi, ch. 4, p. 60.