Confucius remained in Ch'en over three y_Ancient China Simplified

the barbarian King of Wu annexed several neighbouring towns,

whilst Tsin and Ts'u ravaged the surrounding country in turn, in

their rival efforts to secure a predominant influence there. Here

it was, too, that a bird of prey, pierced with a strange arrow,

fell near the prince's palace: from the wood used in making the

arrow and the peculiar stone barb employed to tip it, Confucius

was able to explain that the bird must have flown from (modern)

Manchuria. (This annual flight of bustards and geese, to and from

the Steppes, may be observed any winter to-day.) He next turned

north, and arrived once more at the spot in Sung he had visited in

496: here he was arrested, but set free on his solemn promise that

he would not go to Wei, which state at the moment was considering

the advisability of attacking that very Sung town. Confucius

deliberately broke his plighted word, on the ground that "promises

extorted by violence are void, and are not recognized by the

gods." (These words, which, after all, are good English law, were

quoted by the irate Chang Chf-tung when Russia "extorted" the

Livadia Treaty from Ch'unghou.) On his arrival in Wei, he advised

his old friend, the Wei duke, to attack the Sung town he had just

left. But the duke thought it best to have the Yellow River

between himself and the rival states of Ts'u and Tsin (this

specific mention of the Yellow River as being west of a city in

long. 114ø 30' E. is interesting). The latter state, Tsin, then

held most of the left bank. Confucius even thought of accepting

the invitation of a Tsin rebel to go and assist him: this was just

at the moment when the "six families" were gradually breaking up

the once powerful northern orthodox state. He also hesitated

whether he would not do better, as the prince of Wei would not

employ him, to proceed west to Tsin in order there to serve one of

the contending six families: in fact he actually got as far as the

Yellow River (another proof that it must then have run on the west

side of Wei-hwei Fu in Ho Nan); but turned back to Wei on hearing

unfavourable news from the Tsin capital (in south Shan Si). As the

Wei prince treated him somewhat cavalierly during an interview, he

decided to go back once more due south to the ancient state of

Ch'en. Here (492) he heard news of the destruction by fire of some

of the Lu ancestral temples, and of the death of the "powerful

family" minister whose disgraceful conduct with the singing girls

had led to his departure from Lu in disgust. This minister was a

sort of hereditary _maire du palais_, an arrangement which

seems to have been customary in many states, and his last words to

his son were: "When you succeed me, send for Confucius: my

administration has failed: I did wrong in dismissing him." The son

had not the courage to ask Confucius himself, but he sent instead

for one of the philosopher's disciples, and it was arranged with

Confucius' friends that this disciple on taking office should send

for Confucius himself, who really wished to be employed in Lu

again. Meanwhile Confucius decided to visit the orthodox state of

Ts'ai (imperial clan), lying to the south of Che'n: the capital of

this state had been originally a town on the upper waters of the

Hwai River, right in the heart of modern Ho Nan province; but,

under stress of the Tsin and T'su wars, it had twice moved its

chief city eastwards, and owing to a Ts'u invasion, it was now

(491) on the main Hwai River in modern An Hwei province, and was

at the moment under the political influence of Wu; it is not

clear, however, whether Confucius visited the old or the new

capital. After a year's stay here, Confucius went further

westwards to a certain Ts'u town (near Nan-yang Fu in Ho Nan),

passing, on his way, near the place in which Lao-tsz was born. He

soon returned to Ts'ai, where he stayed three years. It will be

observed that ever since 700 B.C. it had been the deliberate

policy of Ts'u to annex or overshadow as many of the orthodox

states as possible, so that Ts'u's undoubtedly high literary

output, in later years, is easily accounted for: in other words,

Ts'u's northern population was now already orthodox Chinese.

Moreover, it must not be forgotten that, even before the Chou

conquest, one of the early Ts'u rulers was an author himself, and

had been tutor to the father of the Chou founder: that means to

say Ts'u was possibly always as literary as China.

Meanwhile Ts'u and semi-barbarian Wu were contesting possession of

Ch'en, and the King of Ts'u tried to secure by presents the

services of Confucius, who had prudently transferred himself to a

safe place in the open country lying between Ch'en and Ts'ai The

ministers of these two orthodox states, fearing the results to

their own people should Confucius (as he seems in fact to have

contemplated) decide to accept the Ts'u offer, with a police force

surrounded the Confucian party; they were only able to escape from

starvation by sending word to the King, who at once sent a

detachment to free the sage. He would have conferred a fief upon

Confucius, but his ministers advised him of the danger of such a

proceeding, seeing that the Chou dynasty conquered the empire

after beginning with a petty fief, and that the great kingdom of

Ts'u itself had arrived at its present greatness after beginning

with a still smaller fief. Accordingly the sage decided to return

to Wei (489), where several of his disciples received official

posts, and where Confucius himself seems to have acted as

unofficial adviser, especially in the matter of a contested

succession. All this competition for, or at least jealousy of,

Confucius' services proves that his repute as an administrator

(not necessarily as a philosopher) was already widely spread. The

following year the King of Wu appeared before the Lu capital, and

one of Confucius' former disciples holding office there (the one

who went in advance in 492) just succeeded in moderating the

barbarians' demands, which, however, only took the comparatively

harmless "spiritual" form of orthodox sacrificial victims.

[Illustration: Map

1. The dotted line shows the present Grand Canal; the part between

the Yang-tsz and Hwai Rivers was made by the King of Wu. The part

north of the Hwai is chiefly the channel of the River Sz, flowing

from the Lu capital into the Hwai.

2. The old Hwai embouchure, running from the Lake Hung-tseh to the

sea, no longer exists; it dissipates itself in canals and salt

flats.

3. From 1852 the Yellow River has flowed north as depicted in the

other maps. For several centuries previous to 1851 it flowed as

shown by the long-link-and-dot line, and took possession of the

now extinct Hwai embouchure.

4. The crosses mark capitals. Ts'ai (two marked) and Hii (one

marked) frequently shifted capitals.]

In 484 Confucius was still in Wei, for in that year he is stated

to have declined to discuss there a question connected with making

war. In the year 484 or 483 the disciple sent by Confucius to Lu,

as stated, in 492 conducted an expedition against Ts'i: this was

the shameful period when orthodox Lu, in compulsory league with

barbarous Wu, was playing a double and treacherous game under

stress, and the question of recalling Confucius to save his native

country was on the _tapis_. Hearing of this, and despite the

heavy bribes offered him to stay by the ruler of Wei, Confucius

started with alacrity for Lu, where he arrived safely after

fourteen years of wandering. He is often stated to have visited

over forty states in all; but it must be remembered that each of

the important countries he visited had in turn a number of

satellites of its own; as, for instance, the extremely ancient

"marquess state" of Ki, or K'i, subordinate to Lu, which, though

possessing great spiritual authority, had no weight in lay policy.

An interesting point to notice is that Confucius' travels almost

exactly coincide with those of the Second Protector 150 years

earlier (see Chapter XXXIX); both of them ignored the Emperor, and

both of them visited Ts'i, Ts'ao, Sung, and Cheng on their way to

the Ts'u frontiers; but Confucius was not able to get much farther

west so as to reach the Ts'u capital; nor was he able to get to

Tsin; not to say the still more distant Ts'in. In other words, the

limited centre of orthodox China remained for many centuries the

same, and the vast regions surrounding it were still semi-

barbarian in the fifth century B.C. Now it was that Confucius,

seeing that the imperial power had diminished almost to nothing;

that the Odes and Book, the Rites, and the Music no longer

possessed their former influence; employed himself in making

systematic search for documents, in re-editing the Book (of

History), and in endeavouring to ascertain the exact ritual or

administration of the preceding dynasties. "Henceforth the Rites

could be understood and transmitted,"--from which we may assume

that, up to this time, they had been practically a monopoly of the

princely caste. He did not go further back into the mythical

period than the two emperors who preceded the Hia dynasty, nor did

he bring the Book farther down than to the time of Duke Muh of

Ts'in, which practically means the time of the first Protectors.

He really did for rites and history what he had blamed Tsz-ch'an

for doing with the law: he popularized it. He also attempted with

persistent study to master the Changes, to which incomprehensible

work he added features of his own--very little more understandable

than the original texts. As to the Odes, 3000 in number, he used

the pruning knife much more vigorously, and nine-tenths of them

were rejected as unsuitable for the purposes of good didactic

lessons or conservative precedents. If we substitute, as we are

entitled to do, the vague word "religion" for the equally vague

word "rites" (which in fact were the only ancient Chinese

religion); if we substitute the empty Christian churches of to-

day, and the too little scrupulous ambitions of rival European

Powers, for the neglected _tao_ of the Chou ideal, and for

the savage rivalry of the great Chinese vassals; we obtain an

almost precisely similar situation in modern Europe. If we can

imagine a great Pope, or a great philosopher, taking advantage of

a turn in the European conscience to bring back the simple ideals

of Christianity, we can easily imagine this European Confucius

being universally hailed in future times as the saviour of a

parlous situation; which, in Europe now, as 2000 years ago in

China, entails on the people so much misery and suffering.

Confucius was, in short, in a way, a Chinese Pius X. declaiming

against Modernism.

Confucius' only certain original work was the "Springs and

Autumns," which is practically a continuation (with the necessary

introductory years) of the ancient Book edited or, as some think,

composed by him. He brought the former, this history of his, down

from 722 to 481 B.C. and died in 479. His pupil Tso K'iu-ming,

who was official historian to the Lu court, annotated and

expounded Confucius' bald annals, bringing the narrative down from

481 to 468; and Tso's delightful work forms the chief, but by no

means the sole, basis for what we have to say in the present book

of sketches.

CHAPTER XLV

CONFUCIUS AND LAO-TSZ

Apart from the fact that reverence for rulers was the pivot of the

Chou religious system, or, what was then the same thing,

administrative system; official historiographers, who were mere

servants of the executive, had to be careful how they offended the

executive power in those capricious days; all the more had a

private author and a retired official like Confucius carefully to

mind the conventions. For instance, two historians had been put to

death by a king-maker in Ts'i for recording the murder by him of a

Ts'i reigning prince; and Ts'i was but next door to Lu. Hence we

find the leading feature of his work is that he hints rather than

criticizes, suggests rather than condemns, conceals rather than

exposes, when it is a question of class honour or divine right;

just as, with us, the Church prefers to hush up rather than to

publish any unfortunate internal episode that would redound to its

discredit. So shocked was he at the assassination of the ruler of

Ts'i by an usurping family in 481, that, even at his venerable

age, he unsuccessfully counselled instant war against Ts'i. His

motive was perhaps doubtful, for the next year we find a pupil of

his, then in office, going as a member of the mission to the same

usurper in order to try and obtain a cession of territory

improperly held. This pupil was one of the friends who assisted at

the arrangement made in Wei in 492. Confucius' failings--for after

all he was only a man, and never pretended to be a genius--in no

way affect the truth of his writings, for they were detected

almost from the very beginning, and have never been in the least

concealed. Notable instances are the mission from Lu to Ts'u in

634; Confucius conceals the fact that, not courtesy to barbarian

Ts'u, but a desire to obtain vengeance against orthodox Ts'i was

the true motive. Again, in 632, when the _faineant_ Emperor

was "sent for" by the Second Protector to preside at a durbar;

Confucius prefers to say: "His Majesty went to inspect his fiefs

north of the river," thus even avoiding so much as to name the

exact place, not to say describe the circumstances. He punishes

the Emperor for an act of impropriety in 693 by recording him as

"the King," instead of "the Heavenly King." On the other hand, in

598, even the barbarian King of Ts'u was "a sage," because, having

conquered the orthodox state of Ch'en, he magnanimously renounced

his conquest. In 529 the infamous ruler of the orthodox state of

Ts'ai is recorded as being "solemnly buried"; but the rule was

that no "solemn funeral" should be accorded to (1) barbarians, (2)

rulers who lose their crown, (3) murderers. Now, this ruler was a

murderer; but it was a barbarian state (Ts'u) that killed him,

which insult to civilization must be punished by making two blacks

one white, _i.e._ by giving the murdered murderer an orthodox

funeral. Again, in 522, a high officer was "killed by robbers"; it

is explained that there were no robbers at all, in fact, but that

the mere killing of an officer by a common person needs the

assumption of robbery. It is like the legal fiction of lunacy in

modern Chinese law to account for the heinous crime of parricide,

and thus save the city from being razed to the ground. Once more,

at the Peace Conference of 546, Ts'u undoubtedly "bluffed" Tsin

out of her rightful precedence; but, Tsin being an orthodox state,

Confucius makes Tsin the diplomatic victor. We have already seen

that he once deliberately broke his plighted word, meanly attacked

the men who spared him; and, out of servility, visited a woman of

noble rank who was "no better than she ought to have been." There

is another little female indiscretion recorded against him. When,

in 482, the Lu ruler's concubine, a Wu princess (imperial clan

name), died, Confucius obsequiously went into mourning for an

"incestuous" woman; but, seeing immediately afterwards that the

powerful family then at the helm did not condescend to do so, he

somewhat ignominiously took off his mourning in a hurry. All

these, and numerous similar petty instances of timorousness, may

appear to us at a remote distance trifling and pusillanimous, as

do also many of the model personal characteristics and goody-goody

private actions of the sage; but if we make due allowance for the

difficulty of translating strange notions into a strange tongue,

and for the natural absence of sympathy in trying to enter into

foreign feelings, we may concede that these petty details, quite

incidentally related, need in no way destroy the main features of

a great picture. Few heroes look the character except in their

native clothes and surroundings; and, as Carlyle said, a naked

House of Lords would look much less dignified than a naked negro

conference.

As a philosopher, Confucius in his own time had scarcely the

reputation of Tsz-ch'an of Cheng, who in many respects seems to

have been his model and guide. Much more is said of Tsz-ch'an's

philosophy, of his careful definition of the ritual system, of his

legal acumen, of his paternal care for the people's welfare; but,

like his contemporaries and friends of Ts'i, Tsin, Cheng, Sung,

Wei; and even of Wu and Yueh; he was working for the immediate

good of his own state in times of dire peril; whereas Confucius

from first to last was aiming at the restoration of religion

(i.e., of the imperial, ritualistic, feudal system); and for this

reason it was that, after the violent unification of the empire by

the First August Emperor in 221 B.C., followed by his fall and the

rise of the Han dynasty in 202 B.C., this latter house finally

decided to venerate, and all subsequent houses have continued to

venerate, Confucius' memory; because his system was, after Lao-

tsz's system had been given a fair trial, at last found the best

suited for peace and permanency.

Not only is Lao-tsz not mentioned in the "Springs and Autumns" of

Confucius, as extended by his contemporary and latter commentators,

but none other of the great writers and philosophers anterior

to and contemporary with Confucius are spoken of except

strictly in their capacity of administrators. Thus the Ts'i

philosopher Kwan-tsz of the First Protector's time, 650 B.C.; the

Ts'i philosopher Yen-tsz of Confucius' time; and the others

mentioned in preceding chapters, notably in Chapter XV. (of whom

each orthodox state of political importance can boast at least

one); based their reputation on what they had achieved for the

state rather than what they had taught in the abstract; and their

economical and historical books, which have all come down to us in

a more or less complete and authentic state, are valued for the

expression they give to the definite theories by which they

arrived at practical results, rather than for the preaching of the

counsels of perfection, We have seen that Yen-tsz expressed rather

a contempt for the (to him) out-of-date formalistic ideals of

Confucius, though Confucius himself had a high opinion of Yen-tsz.

Lao-tsz is first mentioned by the writers of the various "schools"

brought into existence by the collapse of Tsin in 452 B.C., and

its subdivision into three separate kingdoms, recognized as such

by the puppet Emperor in 403 B.C. The diplomatic activity was soon

after that quite extraordinary, and each of the seven royal courts

became a centre of revolutionary thought; that is, every literary

adventurer had his own views of what interpretation of ancient

literature was best suited to the times: it was Modernism with a

vengeance. There is ample evidence of Lao-tsz's influence upon the

age, though Lao-tsz himself had been dead for a century or more in

the year 403. Lao-tsz is spoken of and written about in the fourth

century B.C. as though it were perfectly well known who he was,

and what his sentiments were; but as, up to Confucius' time, state

intercourse had been confined to traders, warriors, and officials

of the princely castes; and as books had been unwieldy objects

stored only in capitals and great centres; there is good reason to

assume that philosophy had been taught almost entirely by word of

mouth, and that something must have occurred shortly after his

death to cheapen and facilitate the dissemination of literature.

Probably this something was the gradual introduction of the

practice of writing on silk rolls and on silk "paper," which

practice is known to have been in vogue long before the discovery

of rubbish paper A.D. 100. Confucius himself evidently made use of

the old-fashioned bamboo slips, strung together by cords like a

bundle of tickets; for we are told that he worked so hard in

endeavouring to understand the "Changes," that he "wore out three

sets of leather bands"; and it will be remembered from Chapter

XXXV. how the Bamboo Books buried in 299 B.C., to be discovered

nearly 600 years later, consisted of slips strung together in this

way.

Confucius' movements during the fourteen years of his exile are

very clearly marked out, and there seems to be no doubt that his

visit to the Emperor's court took place when he was a young man;

firstly, because Lao-tsz ironically calls him a young man, and

secondly because he went to visit Lao-tsz with the son of the

statesman who on his death-bed foretold Confucius' future

distinction; and there was no Lu mission to the imperial court

after 520. In the second century B.C., not only are there a dozen

statesmen specifically stated to have studied the works of Lao-

tsz, but the Empress herself is said to have possessed his book;

and a copy of it, distinctly said to be in ancient character, was

then stored amongst other copies of the same book in the imperial

library. The two questions which the Chinese historians and

literary men of the fifth, fourth, third, and second centuries

B.C. do not attempt to decide are: Why is the life of Lao-tsz not

given to us earlier than 100 B.C.? Why is that life so scant, and

why does the writer of it allude to "other stories" current about

him? Why is it that the book which Lao-tsz wrote at the request of

a friend is not alluded to by any writer previous to 100 B.C.?

As not one single one of these numerous Taoists or students of

Lao-tsz expresses the faintest doubt about Lao-tsz's existence, or

about the genuineness of his traditional teachings, it is evident

that the meagreness of Lao-tsz's life, as told by the historian,

is rather a guarantee of the truth of what he says than the

reverse, so far as he knows the truth; otherwise he would have

certainly embellished. The essence of Lao-tsz's doctrine is its

democracy, its defence of popular rights, its allusion to kings

and governments as necessary evils, its disapproval of luxury and

hoarding wealth; its enthusiasm for the simple life, for absence

of caste, for equality of opportunity, for socialism and

informality; all of which was, though extracted from the same

Odes, Book, Changes, and Rites, quite contrary in principle to the

"back to the rites" doctrine of Confucius. Therefore, there could

be no possible inducement for Confucius, the pruning editor of the

Odes, Book, etc., or for his admirers, to mention Lao-tsz in

either his original work, the "Springs and Autumns," or in the

other works (composed by his disciples) giving the original words

and sentiments of Confucius. Besides, during the whole of Lao-

tsz's life, the imperial court (where he served as a clerk) was

totally ignored by all the "powers" as a political force; the only

persons mentioned in what survives of Chou history are the

historiographers, the wizards, the ritual _clerks,_ the ducal

envoys, now sent by the Emperor to the vassals, now consulted by

the vassals upon matters of etiquette. Lao-tsz, being an obscure

clerk in an obscure appanage, and holding no political office, had

no more title to be mentioned in history than any other servant or

"harmless drudge." That his doctrines were well known is not

wonderful, for Tsz-ch'an, his contemporary, and this great man's

colleagues of the other states, also had doctrines of their own

which were widely discussed and, as we have seen, even Tsz-ch'an

was severely blamed for the unheard-of novelty of committing the

laws to writing, both by Confucius of Lu and by Shuh Hiang of Tsin

(imperial clan states). It is reasonable to suppose, therefore,

that the traditional story is true; namely, that Lao-tsz's

doctrines were never taught in a school at all, and that he had no

followers or admirers except the vassal envoys who used to come on

spiritual business to the metropolis. We have seen how these men

used to entertain each other over their wine by quoting the Odes

and other ancient saws; when consulting the imperial library to

rectify their own dates, they would naturally meet the old recluse

Lao-tsz, and hear from his own mouth what he thought of the coming

collapse anticipated by all. He is said to have left orthodox

China in disgust, and gone West--well, he must have passed through

Ts'in if he went to the west. At the frontier pass (it is not

known precisely whether on the imperial frontier or on the Ts'in

frontier) an acquaintance or correspondent on duty there invited

him to put his thoughts into writing, which he did. Books being

extremely rare, copies would be slowly transmitted. This was about

500 B.C., between which time and 200 B.C., when a copy of his book

is first reported to be actually held in the hand by a definite

person, the great protecting powers, and later the seven kings,

were all engaged in a bloodthirsty warfare, which ended in the

almost total destruction throughout the empire of the Odes, Rites,

and the Book in 213 B.C. Remember, however, that the literary

empire practically meant parts of the modern provinces of Ho Nan

and Shan Tung. The "Changes" were not destroyed; and as the First

August Emperor himself, his illegitimate father, several of his

statesmen, and his visitors the travelling diplomats, were all

either Taoists or imbued with Taoist doctrines (their sole policy

being to destroy the old ritual and feudal thrones), there is

ground to conjecture that Lao-tsz's book escaped too, and was

deliberately suffered to escape. We know absolutely nothing of

that; assuming the truth of the tradition that there was a book,

we do not know what became of the first copy, nor how many copies

were made of it during the succeeding 300 years. No attempt

whatever has ever been made by the serious Chinese historians

themselves to manufacture a story. It is, of course, unsatisfactory

not to know all the exact truth; but, for the matter of that, the

existence, identity, and authorship of Confucius' pupil and commentator

Tso K'iu-ming, the official historian of Lu, is equally obscure; not to

mention the history of the earliest Taoist critics who actually mention

Lao-tsz, and quote the words of (if they do not mention) his book.

When we read Renan's masterly examination into the origins of our

own Gospels, and when we reflect that even the origin of Shakespeare's

plays, and the individuality of Shakespeare's person, are open to

everlasting discussion, we may not unreasonably leave Chinese

critics and Chinese historians to judge of the value of their own

national evidence, and accept in general terms what they tell us

of fact, however imperfect it may be in detail, without adding

hypothetical facts or raising new critical difficulties of our own.

No such foreign criticisms are or can be worth much unless the

original Chinese histories and the original Chinese philosophers have

been carefully examined by the foreign critic in the original Chinese text.

CHAPTER XLVI

ORACLES AND OMENS

Consulting the oracles seems to have been a universal practice,

and there are numerous historical allusions, made by statesmen of

the orthodox principalities, to supposed interpretations attached

to this or that combination of mystic signs or diagrams from the

"Changes," together with arguments as to their specific meaning or

omen in given circumstances. Doubtless the Chinese of those dates,

like our own searchers for religious "analogies" and mysteries,

examined with perfect good faith combinations of the Diagrams

which to us appear arrant nonsense; and there can be no doubt of

Confucius' own individual zeal, though the fact that he thought

fifty years' study at least would be necessary for full

comprehension points to the tacit confession that he had totally

failed to understand much of the mystery. The Changes are supposed

to have been developed by the father of the Warrior King when

(about 1160 B.C.) he was in prison under the tyrannous suspicions

of the last Shang emperor; and we have seen that the ruler of Ts'u

_was_ his tutor, at a time when Ts'u was not yet vassal to

Chou. Like the Odes, Book, and Rites, the Changes were Chou

literature, though possibly the unwritten traditions of earlier

dynasties may have contributed to that literature; which, indeed,

seems very likely, as Ts'u was already able to teach Chou.

Another form of augury was the examination of the marks on the

carapax of a tortoise; thus the Martial King in 146 consulted, and

found unfavourable, such marks--this was before attacking the last

Shang emperor; and it was only at the earnest instigation of his

chief henchman (afterwards vassal king and founder of Ts'i) that

he was prevailed upon to proceed. Possibly he borrowed Eastern

ideas from this founder of Ts'i too. Later on, the Martial King's

younger brother, the Duke of Chou, consulted the oracle along with

the same Ts'i adviser: this was done before the three ancestral

altars of their father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, in

order to ascertain if the Emperor (_i.e._ the Martial King)

would recover from a sickness. In 1109 the Martial King's son and

successor sent one of his uncles or near relatives to examine the

site of modern Ho-nan Fu, with a view to transferring the

metropolis thither, and, the oracles being favourable, the Nine

Tripods were removed to that place, and it was afterwards called

the "Eastern Metropolis" (the original or western capital was not

moved for over 300 years after that). It was at the same time

foretold that there would be thirty more reigns, of 700 years in

all: this was "Heaven's decree." On the other hand, when the Duke

of Chou died during a tempest, the young Emperor was advised not

to consult the oracles as to what the storm signified, because his

uncle's virtues were so manifest that Heaven itself had, by the

agency of a tempest, spontaneously announced the fact.

Astrology was another form of soothsaying. In 780 B.C. the

imperial astrologer (one of those two men, by the way, whom

erroneous tradition 1000 years later confused with Lao-tsz)

foretold the rise of Ts'i, Tsin, Ts'u, and Ts'in, upon the ruins

of the imperial power; in 773 the same astrologer repeated the

prophecy to the imperial prince then recently enfeoffed by his

relative the Emperor in the state of CHÊNG. In 705 the imperial

astrologer, when passing through the orthodox state of CH'ÊN,

foretold from the diagrams that a scion of the CH'ÊN house would

obtain the throne of Ts'i (which actually took place when the

_maire du palais,_ to the horror of Confucius, assassinated

the last legitimate duke in 481 B.C.); this particular prophecy is

doubly interesting, because the diagrams from the Changes, thus

cited in detail in Confucius' history, correspond exactly with the

diagrams of the Book of Changes as we have it now, since Confucius

manipulated it--proof that no change has taken place in this part

of the text at least.

The ruler of Ts'in in the year 762, nine years after receiving the

western half of the Chou imperial domain, and being recognized as

a first-class vassal, consulted the oracle as to whither he should

move his own capital. In the year 677 the oracles once more

decided the then reigning ruler to shift his capital to (the

modern) Feng-siang Fu in West Shen Si; the oracles added: "And

later you will water your steeds in the Yellow River"; which came

to pass after the conquests and annexations of 643 B.C., as

already related. In 374 B.C. the imperial astrologer (the second

man whom tradition, 300 years later this time, erroneously

confused with Lao-tsz) then on a visit to the now royal Ts'in

court said: "After 500 years of separation Ts'in is reunited to

our imperial house; in 77 years more a domineering monarch will

arise." Seven years later the "raining down of metal" (probably

some natural phenomenon not clearly understood at the time) was

considered a good omen in connection with the new capital, now

placed on the south bank of the River Wei. After Ts'in had

conquered China, there are numerous other instances of oracles,

omens, and so forth, all supposed to have had political

significance.

In 645 the ruler of the neighbouring state of Tsin consults the

oracles in order to ascertain who will be the most suitable war

charioteer. A few years before that the court diviner foretold the

future success of the petty Ngwei sub-principality of Tsin, which

in 403 B.C. actually became a separate vassal kingdom. In 575 Tsin

dared not, at the moment, accept the battle challenge of Tsu,

because the particular day was a dies _nefas,_ being the last

day of the moon. Meanwhile the spies of the Ts'u army discerned

that the Tsin leaders were consulting the oracles before the

tablets of their ancestors in the field tent. In 535 the Ts'in

administration consulted its own astrologer upon the point: "Will

the state of Ch'en survive?" The answer was: "When it secures

Ts'i, it will perish." As just explained, a scion of the Ch'en

house did practically obtain Ts'i in 481 B.C., and the very next

year Ch'en was annexed by Ts'u. In 510 the Tsin astrologer

prophesied the destruction of Wu by Yiieh within forty years, and

also the predominancy of the Lu private family so intimately

connected with Confucius' troubles. There were not lacking

sensible men, even in those days, who ridiculed the science of

astrology: for instance, Shuh Hiang of Tsin--the man who so

strongly disapproved Tsz-ch'an's written laws, and the man who

discussed with the Ts'i envoy, the philosopher Yen-tsz, the

worthlessness of their respective dukes--said on one occasion when

the "course of the heavens towards north-west" was supposed to

indicate a success for Tsin: "The course of the heavens, as that

of our success, lies in the qualities of the prince, and not in

the situation of the stars."

Tsz-ch'an of Cheng himself pooh-poohed oracular warnings, and said

that he preferred to do his best, and leave omens to do their

worst. On one occasion, outside the south gate of the Cheng

capital, two snakes (one from the city, one from outside) were

observed fighting; the one from the inside was defeated. Sure

enough! the exiled duke six years after that returned to his own.

So, in the state of Lu, the children sang: "When the thrushes come

and make their nests, the ruler will go to a place on the Tsin

frontier; when the thrushes settle here, the duke will be abroad"--

in allusion to the future ejecting of the reigning prince by the

powerful family above referred to. And, again (480 B.C.), in the

state of Sung, whose terrestrial position was supposed to be

"invaded" by the then peculiar celestial position of the planet

Mars: it was suggested, however, to the ruling prince that he

might "pass on" the threatened disaster to his ministers, to his

people, or to their harvests--a solution the duke declined to

avail himself of. 'Yours are indeed the words of a sage,' said the

astrologer.

We now come to the semi-civilized state of Ts'u, which seems to

have had its oracles with the best of them, at all events after

560 B.C. At that date it was explained to the King that "the

ancient emperors would at times consult the oracles for five years

before deciding upon an expedition, or fixing the date of it; they

were content to await patiently the decrees of Heaven." In 537 the

Ts'u king, having a prince of Wu in his power, sent to ask him

ironically if he had duly consulted the oracles. "Yes," said the

prince, "every ruler has his tortoise, and it is easy to

demonstrate by our oracles how injurious it will be for you if any

harm comes to me." This presence of mind saved his life. In 528 a

Ts'u usurper invited a man who had once assisted him to name any

post he would like. The man chose that of diviner, which, it

appears, was an office of the first rank. The father of this king

had secretly arranged with a concubine, notwithstanding the Ts'u

rule (or possibly in accordance with it) that one of the youngest

sons should succeed, to "sacrifice from a distance to the gods in

general, and ask of them which of five sons should sacrifice to

the spirits of the land"; then he buried a jade symbol of rule in

the ancestral temple, and ordered the five sons to enter after

proper purification; the three sons who happened to touch the spot

reigned one after the other. In 489 the King of Ts'u, then engaged

in assisting the orthodox state of Ch'en against the attacks of

Wu, interrogated the imperial astrologer (who must have been there

on a visit): "What is the meaning of that halo, like a bird's

wings, on each side of the sun?" The astrologer replied: "It

presages calamity, but you can transfer it to your generals." The

generals then offered to consult the gods themselves, and even to

sacrifice their own persons if necessary; but the King declined

(on the same ground as the Duke of Sung above mentioned) because

"my generals are my own limbs." It was then proposed to transfer

the calamity to the Yellow River. "No, the Yellow River has never

played me false: ever since we received our fief, we have never at

full moon sacrificed beyond the River Han and Yang-tsz." Confucius

registered his approval of this answer. It will be remembered that

just at this time Confucius was hanging about Ch'Ün and coquetting

with Ts'u, so that possibly this approval had something to do with

his own prospects.

In recording these instances of prophecies and omens (which might

be multiplied tenfold), it is desired to show how one main set of

ideas pervaded the whole. We should not be too ready to ridicule

them, or to hint at "after the event." Our own Scriptures are full

of similar prophecies, and what is good for us is good for the

Chinese. If the celestial movements can be foretold, why not

corresponding terrestrial movements, each corner of the earth

being on the meridian of something? In the infancy of science, it

is rather a question of good faith than of truth; and even the

truth, if we insist on expecting it, was rudely guessed at by such

great thinkers as Tsz-ch'an and Shuh Hiang.

CHAPTER XLVII

RULERS AND PEOPLE

A feature of the times was the remarkably personal character of

the wars, and the apparent utter indifference to humble popular

interests; _Quidquid delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi;_ stress

is laid upon this point by the democratic philosopher Lao-tsz, who,

however, in his book (be it genuine or not), is wise enough never

to name a person or place; probably that prudence saved it from

the flames in 213 B.C.

In 684 B.C. the ruler of Ts'ai (imperial clan) treated very rudely

his own wife's sister, married to a petty prince (imperial clan)

close by; the sister was simply passing through as a traveller;

the result was that this petty prince, her husband, induced Ts'u

to make war upon Ts'ai, whose reigning prince was captured, and

died a prisoner. In _657_ the ruler of Ts'ai had a sister

married in Ts'i. The First Protector, offended at some act of

playful disobedience, sent her back, but without actually

divorcing her. Her brother was so angry that he found her another

husband. On this Ts'i declared war, and captured the brother, who,

however, at the intercession of the other vassal princes, was

restored to his kingdom. In 509 and 506 B.C. Ts'ai induces Tsin to

make war on Ts'u, and also assists Wu in her hostilities against

Ts'u, because a Ts'u minister had detained the ruler of Ts'ai for

refusing to part with a handsome fur coat. It is like the stealing

of the Golden Fleece by Jason, and similar Greek squabbles. In 675

B.C. the Emperor, for the third time, had to fly from his capital,

the immediate cause of the trouble being an attempt on his part to

seize a vassal's rice-field for including in his own park--a

Chinese version of the Naboth's vineyard dispute. Nothing could

better prove the pettiness of the ancient state-horizon; no busily

active great power could find time for such trifles.

When the Second Protector came to the throne, the orthodox states

of Wei, Ts'ao, and Cheng (all of the imperial clan), which had

treated him scurvily as a wanderer, had all three of them to pay

dearly for their meanness. In 632, when the Protector had secured

the Tsin throne, the ruler of Ts'ao was promptly captured, and

part of his territory was given to Sung (where the wanderer had

been well treated). The same year Tsin wished to assist Sung, and

accordingly asked right of way through the state of Wei, which was

curtly refused; the Tsin army therefore crossed the Yellow River

to the south of Wei: as a punishment for this refusal, and also

for the previous rude treatment, Wei also had to give part of her

territory to the favoured Sung. In 630 Tsin induced Ts'in to join

in an attack upon Cheng, the object being, of course, to revenge

similar personal rudenesses; however, Cheng diplomacy was

successful in inducing Ts'in to abandon Tsin in the nick of time:

this was one of the very few cases in which Ts'in interfered, or

was about to interfere, in "orthodox" affairs. In 592 Tsin sent a

hunchback envoy to Ts'i; it so happened that at the same time Lu

sent one who was lame, and Wei a third who was blind of one eye.

The Ts'i ruler thereupon appointed an officer mutilated in some

other way to do the duties of host to this sorry trio. The Tsin

envoy swore: "If I do not revenge this upon Ts'i, may the God of

the Yellow River take note of it!" Reaching his own country, he

tried to induce the ruler to make war on Ts'i; but the prince

said: "Your personal pique should hardly suffice for ground to

trouble the whole country": and he refused.

The principle of the divinity that doth hedge a king was early

established, but there are certainly more numerous evidences of

royal absolutism in Ts'u than in orthodox China, where responsibility

of rulers before Heaven and the People (symbolical of Heaven also)

was an accepted axiom. For instance, in 522 B.C., an officer, knowing

that the King of Ts'u was sending for him in order to kill him, said to his

brother: "As the king orders it, one of us two must go, but you can

avenge me later on." When the next Ts'u king was a fugitive, and it

was a question in a subject's mind of killing him because his father

had taken a brother's life, it was objected: "No! if the king slays one

of his officers, who can avenge it? His commands emanate from Heaven.

It is unpardonable to cut off the ancestral sacrifice of a whole house

in this way."

In still more ancient times, when the last Emperor of the Shang

dynasty was being warned of the rising popular feeling in favour

of the rising Chou power, he remarked: "Have I not Heaven's

mandate? What can they do to me?" When the Martial King achieved

his conquest, he smeared the god of the soil with the sacrificial

victims' blood, and announced the crimes of the dead tyrant to

Heaven. In the war of 589 between Tsin and Ts'i, the ruler of

Ts'i, who had changed places with his charioteer in order to

escape detection, was hotly pursued; but his chariot caught in a

tree. Seeing this, the Tsin captain prostrated himself before the

chariot, and said: "My princely master's orders are to assist the

states of Lu and Wei" (i.e. not to attack your person). Meanwhile

the disguised charioteer ordered the disguised king to fetch a

drink of water, and the king thus escaped even the humiliation of

a favour from his generous victor. When in 548 a worthless Ts'i

ruler was assassinated, the philosopher Yen-tsz said: "When the

ruler dies or is exiled for the gods of the land and its harvests,

one dies or is exiled with him; but if he dies or is exiled for

private reasons, then only his personal friends die with him." He

therefore contented himself with wailing, and with laying his head

on the royal body. The same Tsin captain who was so tender to the

Ts'i duke in 589 had an opportunity fourteen years later of taking

prisoner the ruler of CHÊNG in battle; but he said: "Evil cometh

to him who toucheth a crowned head! I have already committed

sacrilege once against the ruler of Ts'i; preserve me from

committing this crime a second time!" And he turned promptly back.

During the same fight, the King of Ts'u's body-guard was attacked

by the Tsin generalissimo, who, when he discerned the king in the

centre of the guards, got out of his chariot, doffed his helmet,

and fled in horror, "such was his respect for the person of

royalty." It was a ritual rule in China for the distinguished men

not to remove the official head-covering in death; for instance,

in 481, when one of Confucius' pupils was killed in war, his last

patriotic act was to tie his hat-strings tighter. Though rulers

were supposed to owe duties to the gods in general, yet the power

of the gods was limited. Thus when Tsz-ch'an of CHÊNG was sent as

envoy to Tsin in 541, the sick Tsin ruler asked him: "How can the

two gods who, they say, are responsible for my malady, be

conjured?" Tsz-ch'an replied: "These particular gods cannot injure

you; we sacrifice to them in connection with natural phenomena,

such as drought, flood, or other disaster; just as in matters of

snow, hail, rain, or wind we sacrifice to the gods of the sun,

moon, planets, and constellations. Your illness is the result of

drink, over-feeding, women, passionate anger, excessive pleasure."

Shuh Hiang approved this common-sense view of the situation.

ANCIENT CHINESE LAW

APPENDIX I

In the spring of the year 536 B.C., Tsz-ch'an, one of the leading

statesmen in the Chinese Federal Union, decided to publish for

popular information the Criminal Law which had hitherto been

simply "declared" by the various rulers and their officers

according to the circumstances of each case. At this time the

different premiers and ministers used to visit each other freely,

generally in the suite of the reigning prince who happened to be

either receiving or paying a visit from or to some other vassal

prince. The Emperor himself, now shorn of his power, was only

_primus inter pares_ amongst these princes. Shuh Hiang, one

of the ministers at the neighbouring court of Tsin, addressed the

following remarkable letter to the colleague above mentioned who

had introduced the legal innovation. It is published in

_exteso_ in Confucius' own history of the times, as expanded

by one of his pupils:--

"At first I used to regard you as a guide, but now all this is at

an end. Our monarchs in past times were wont to decide matters by

specific ordinance, and had no prepared statutes, fearing lest the

people should grow contentious. Yet even so it was impossible to

suppress wrong-doing; for which reason they employed justice as a

preventive, administration to bring things into line, external

formality to secure respect, good faith as an abiding principle,

and kindness in actual treatment. They appointed certain ranks and

emoluments with a view to encouraging their officers to follow the

course thus sketched out for them, and they fixed certain stern

punishments and fines in order to fill these officers with a dread

of arbitrariness, fearing that otherwise they might fail in their

duty. Thus admonition was given with every loyalty; fear was

inspired by personal example; instruction was conveyed as occasion

required; employment in service was accompanied by suavity;

contact with inferiors was marked by a respectful demeanour; the

executive arm was firmly applied; and decisions were carried out

with virility. Yet, with all this, it was never too easy to secure

wise and saintly (vassal) princes, clever and discriminating

ministers, loyal and trusty officials, or kind and affectionate

instructors. Under these circumstances, however, it was possible

to set the people going, and China was at least free from

revolution and misery.

"But when the people themselves become cognizant of a written law,

they will cease to fear their superiors, and, moreover, they will

acquire a contentious spirit. Having book to refer to, they will

employ every device to elude the letter of the law. This will not

do at all. It was only in times of anarchical rule that the

founders of the Hia and Shang dynasties (2200 B.C. and 1760 B.C.)

found it necessary to issue (to their officers) the collections of

laws which still bear their two respective names; and it was also

only in anarchical times (1000 B.C.) that one Emperor of our

present dynasty found it necessary to publish (for his officers)

the so-called Nine Laws. In other words, the advent of written law

has on all three occasions connoted a decay in government. You,

sir, are the chief minister of _CHÊNG_ state (part of modern

Ho Nan); you made a few years ago some new regulations about the

parcelling of land; next you placed the system of your taxation on

a fresh basis; and you now proceed to embody the three special

collections just cited in a new popular code, which you have had

cast in metal characters. If you are doing it with a view to

pacify the people, surely you will not find this an easy matter?

The 'Book of Odes' says: 'King _Wên_ (the virtual founder,

2200 B.C., of the then reigning Chou dynasty) took virtue as his

guide, and thus gradually pacified the four quarters of the

world.' It also says: 'The methods of King _Wu_ (son of the

virtual founder) secured the confidence of all the other

countries.' Where were the written laws in those times? When

people begin to get the contentious spirit upon them, they will

have done with the principles of propriety, and only stickle for

the letter; they will haggle upon every tiny point accessible to

knife's edge or awl's tip. We shall witness a flood of litigious

accusations; bribery and corruption will be rampant. Do you think

the state of _Cheng_ will last out your life? I have heard it

said: 'When a country is about to collapse, there are many

conflicting administrative changes.' Will this apply to present

conditions?"

The reply returned was:-

"With regard to what my honourable friend has been pleased to say,

I am afraid my humble capacities are not sufficiently great to

take the interests of posterity; my action has been taken in the

interests of the state as I find it, and as I have to govern it.

Though, therefore, I cannot accept tour commands, I shall be

careful not to forget your kindness in proffering advice."

Though the exact words of the above-mentioned Code in Brass have

not come down to us, they are (like the Twelve Tables of Rome,

eighty years later in date, were in relation to Roman jurisprudence)

the foundation of Chinese Criminal Law as it exists to-day, modified,

of course, dynasty by dynasty. At this time Confucius was a mere

youth; but later on, as minister of a third vassal state, that of Lu, he

also expressed his disapproval of a written code, much though he

respected the author, whom he knew personally. Shuh Hiang's letter

is of interest as showing the pitch of philosophy, common-sense, and

international courtesy to which the statesmen of China had attained

2400 years ago.

APPENDIX II

In 539 B.C. the Ts'i statesman and philosopher Yen-tsz was sent on

a mission to Tsin in order to negotiate a political marriage. At

this period Han K'i, also called Han Süan-tsz, was the premier of

Tsin, and he despatched the minister Shuh Hiang with a complimentary

message to the Ts'i envoy, accepting the offer of a suitable wife. At

this time the diplomatic relations of the Chinese states were particularly

interesting, because, apart from the fact that intellectual premiers ruled

all the great states, most of them were personal friends, acquaintances,

or correspondents of Confucius, who has left on record his judgment

upon each. After the official marriage negotiations were over, Shuh

Hiang ordered refreshments, and he and Yen-tsz sat down to a nice

quiet little chat by themselves.

_Shuh Hiang_. How is Ts'i going on?

_Yen-tsz_. These are bad times. I don't know what I can say

about Ts'i, except that it appears to be falling into the hands of

the CH'ÊN family. The prince neglects his people, and consequently

they turn to the CH'ÊN family for protection. In former times Ts'i

had three grain measures, each a four multiple of the other--etc.

four pints, sixteen pints, sixty-four pints--and finally there was

a large measure containing ten times the last, or 640 pints (or

litres); but the three measures of the CH'ÊN family have each been

raised by one unit, so that three successive fives multiplied by

ten give 800 pints, and their plan is to make loans of grain with

their private 8oo-pint measure, and then to take back payments in

the prince's measure. The wood from the mountains is sold in the

market-place as cheaply as on the mountains; fish, salt, clams,

and cockles are sold in the market-place as cheaply as on the

shore. On the other hand, two-thirds of the produce of the

people's labour go to the prince, whilst only one-third remains

for the sustenance of the producers. The prince's stores rot away,

whilst our old men die of starvation. False feet are cheaper than

shoes in the market-place (owing to the number of people punished

with amputation of a foot); the people are smarting with a sense

of wrong, and are longing for the advent (of the CH'ÊN family),

whom they love as a parent, and towards whom they tend, just as

water runs downhill. Under these circumstances, even if they did

not want to gain the people over, how can they avoid it? The last

surviving member of that branch of the CH'ÊN family who traced his

descent to previous dynasties has still left his spirit in the

land of Ts'i, though the representatives of the family are

nominally subjects of Ts'i.

_Shuh Hiang_. Yes. And even our ruling house of Tsin has

fallen on degenerate times. Armies are no longer equipped, and our

statesmen are not ready for war. There is no one to lead the

chariots, and our battalions have no competent commanders. The

common people are utterly exhausted, whilst the extravagance of

the palace is unbounded. The starving folk line the roads, whilst

money is squandered upon female favourites. The commands of the

prince are received by the people as though they longed to escape

the clutches of a bandit. The representatives of the eight leading

families who have served the state so long and faithfully are

reduced to the most insignificant offices. Government is

administered in certain private interests, and the people have no

one to whom to appeal. The ruler shows no sign of amendment, and

endeavours to drown his cares in excessive indulgence. When did

the ruling house ever before reach the low depths of to-day? The

warning oracle inscribed on the tripod says: "However early you

may get to zealous work, your descendants may be lazy." How much

more, in the case of a man who will not reform, is disaster likely

to be impending soon!

_Yen-tsz_. What do you propose to do?

_Shuh Hiang_. The ruling house of Tsin is about exhausted. I

have heard it said that when a ruling house is about to fall, its

family members drop off first, like the branches and leaves of a

stricken tree; and the ruler himself, like the trunk, follows

suit. Take my own stock, for instance, which formerly contained

eleven family or clan names. The Sheepstongue (_cf_, English

Sheepshanks) clan is my clan, and the only one now left; and I

myself have no son fit to be my heir. The ruling house is

arbitrary and capricious, so that, even if I am fortunate enough

to die in my bed myself, I shall have no one to perform the

_sacra_ for me.

In 513 B.C. two generals of the Tsin state carried their arms into

the Luh-hun reservation (in modern Ho Nan province), whither, in

638 B.C., the Tartar tribe of that name had been brought to settle

by agreement between the two Chinese powers whose territories

(Ts'in and Tsin) ran with the Tartars; "and then they drew upon

Tsin state for four cwt. of iron, in order to cast a punishment

tripod upon which to inscribe the law-book composed by Fan Süan-

tsz (a minister)." Confucius said:--

"It looks as though Tsin were about to perish, as it has made a

mistake in its calculations. The state of Tsin ought to govern its

people by maintaining the ancient laws and ordinances received by

their ancestor who was first enfeoffed there (in 1120 B.C.), when

the officers of state would each observe the same in their degree.

Thus the people would know how to respect their superiors, and the

ruling classes would be in a position to maintain their

patrimonies. The proper balance between superior classes and

commoners is what we call 'ordinance.' The ruling prince W&n (who

assumed the Protectorship of China in 632 B.C.) for this reason

established an official body of dignitaries, and organized the

annual spring revision of the laws of his ancestors as Representative

Federal Prince. Now Tsin abandons this system, and makes a tripod,

which tripod--will henceforth govern the people's acts. How can they

now respect their superiors (having book to go by)? How can the

superiors maintain their patrimonies? If superiors and commoners

confuse degree, how can the state go on? Moreover, Süan-tsz's

punishments date from the spring revision (of 621 B.C.), when confusion

and change was going on in Tsin state; how can they take this as a

fit precedent?"

APPENDIX III

About twenty-five centuries ago--in 546 B.C., to be precise--the

Chinese Powers had a "Hague Conference" with a view to the

reduction of armaments. This is how Confucius' pupil, Tso K'iu-

ming, tells the story in the "Tso Chwan," or expanded version of

Confucius' "Springs and Autumns" (for convenience the names of the

ancient States are changed to those of the modern provinces

corresponding with them):--

"A statesman of Ho Nan, being on friendly terms with his

colleagues of Shan Si and Hu P&h, conceived the idea of making a

name for himself by proposing a cessation of armaments. He went

first to Shan Si, and interviewed the Premier there; the Premier

consulted his colleagues in the Shan Si ministry, and one of them

said: 'War is ruinous to the people, and a fearful waste of

wealth; it is the curse of the smaller Powers. Although the idea

will come to nothing, we must consent to a conference; otherwise

Hu P&h will consent to it first, in order to gain favour with the

Powers, and thus we shall lose the predominant position we now

occupy.' So Shan Si consented.

"Then (the narrative continues) Hu Pêh was visited, and also

consented. Then Shan Tung (the German sphere now). Shan Tung did

not like the idea; but one of the Shan Tung Ministers said: 'Shan

Si and Hu P&h have agreed, and we have no help for it. Besides,

the world will say that there would be a cessation of armaments

were it not for our refusal, and thus our own people will vote

against us. What is the use of that?' So Shan Tung consented. Next

Shen Si was notified. Shen Si also consented. Then the whole four

great Powers notified the minor States, and a great durbar (of

fourteen States) was held at a minor court in Ho Nan."

The curious part of it all is that the representative of the

Emperor (whose political position was not unlike that of the Popes

in Europe since 1870) did not appear at the Conference at all,

though all the Great Powers maintained the fiction of granting

precedence to the Emperor and his nuncios, and even went through

the form of accepting investiture from him and taking tribute

presents to the Imperial Court-when it suited them.

This celebrated Peace Conference closed the seventy-two years of

almost incessant war that had been going on between Tsin and Ts'in

(Shan Si and Shen Si), apart from the subsidiary war between Tsin

and Ts'u (Hu Pêh).

INDEX

Absorption, Chinese

Accadian. See Babylonian

Adams, Will

Address, forms of

Advisers, Chinese

Advisers, Tartar

African parallels

Agriculture

Ainus, people

Alexander the Great

Alienation of fiefs

Alliances

Alphabets, imperfection of

Altars

Altars, private

Ambassadors. See Envoys; Missions

American parallels

Analects of Confucius

Ancestral feeling

Ancestral sacrifices

Ancestral tablets

Ancestral temples

Anglo-Saxon civilization

An Hwei, province

Annals (see History and Bamboo Books)

Annam, King of

Annamese race

Appanages, ducal

Aquarius

Confucius remained in Ch'en over three years, and during that time