THE FOUR BOOKS--MENCIUS
[Sidenote: THE LUN YÜ]
No Chinaman thinks of entering upon a study of the Five Classics until
he has mastered and committed to memory a shorter and simpler course
known as The Four Books.
The first of these, as generally arranged for students, is the _Lun
Yü_ or Analects, a work in twenty short chapters or books, retailing
the views of Confucius on a variety of subjects, and expressed so far
as possible in the very words of the Master. It tells us nearly all we
really know about the Sage, and may possibly have been put together
within a hundred years of his death. From its pages we seem to gather
some idea, a mere _silhouette_ perhaps, of the great moralist whose
mission on earth was to teach duty towards one’s neighbour to his
fellow-men, and who formulated the Golden Rule: “What you would not
others should do unto you, do not unto them!”
It has been urged by many, who should know better, that the negative
form of this maxim is unfit to rank with the positive form as given to
us by Christ. But of course the two are logically identical, as may
be shown by the simple insertion of the word “abstain;” that is, you
would not that others should abstain from certain actions in regard to
yourself, which practically conveys the positive injunction.
When a disciple asked Confucius to explain charity of heart, he replied
simply, “Love one another.” When, however, he was asked concerning the
principle that good should be returned for evil, as already enunciated
by Lao Tzŭ (see ch. iv.), he replied, “What then will you return for
good? No: return good for good; for evil, justice.”
He was never tired of emphasising the beauty and necessity of truth: “A
man without truthfulness! I know not how that can be.”
“Let loyalty and truth be paramount with you.”
“In mourning, it is better to be sincere than punctilious.”
“Man is born to be upright. If he be not so, and yet live, he is lucky
to have escaped.”
“Riches and honours are what men desire; yet except in accordance with
right these may not be enjoyed.”
Confucius undoubtedly believed in a Power, unseen and eternal, whom he
vaguely addressed as Heaven: “He who has offended against Heaven has
none to whom he can pray.” “I do not murmur against Heaven,” and so
on. His greatest commentator, however, Chu Hsi, has explained that by
“Heaven” is meant “Abstract Right,” and that interpretation is accepted
by Confucianists at the present day. At the same time, Confucius
strongly objected to discuss the supernatural, and suggested that our
duties are towards the living rather than towards the dead.
He laid the greatest stress upon filial piety, and taught that man is
absolutely pure at birth, and afterwards becomes depraved only because
of his environment.
Chapter x. of the _Lun Yü_ gives some singular details of the every-day
life and habits of the Sage, calculated to provoke a smile among those
with whom reverence for Confucius has not been a first principle from
the cradle upwards, but received with loving gravity by the Chinese
people at large. The following are extracts (Legge’s translation) from
this famous chapter:--
“Confucius, in his village, looked simple and sincere, and as if he
were not able to speak. When he was in the prince’s ancestral temple or
in the court, he spoke minutely on every point, but cautiously.
“When he entered the palace gate, he seemed to bend his body, as if it
were not sufficient to admit him.
“He ascended the daïs, holding up his robe with both his hands and his
body bent; holding in his breath also, as if he dared not breathe.
“When he was carrying the sceptre of his prince, he seemed to bend his
body as if he were not able to bear its weight.
“He did not use a deep purple or a puce colour in the ornaments of his
dress. Even in his undress he did not wear anything of a red or reddish
colour.
“He required his sleeping dress to be half as long again as his body.
“He did not eat rice which had been injured by heat or damp and turned
sour, nor fish or flesh which was gone. He did not eat what was
discoloured, or what was of a bad flavour, nor anything which was not
in season. He did not eat meat which was not cut properly, nor what was
served without its proper sauce.
“He was never without ginger when he ate. He did not eat much.
“When eating, he did not converse. When in bed, he did not speak.
“Although his food might be coarse rice and vegetable soup, he would
offer a little of it in sacrifice with a grave respectful air.
“If his mat was not straight, he did not sit on it.
“The stable being burned down when he was at Court, on his return he
said, ‘Has any man been hurt?’ He did not ask about the horses.
“When a friend sent him a present, though it might be a carriage and
horses, he did not bow. The only present for which he bowed was that of
the flesh of sacrifice.
“In bed, he did not lie like a corpse. At home, he did not put on any
formal deportment.
“When he saw any one in a mourning dress, though it might be an
acquaintance, he would change countenance; when he saw any one wearing
the cap of full dress, or a blind person, though he might be in his
undress, he would salute them in a ceremonious manner.
“When he was at an entertainment where there was an abundance of
provisions set before him, he would change countenance and rise
up. On a sudden clap of thunder or a violent wind, he would change
countenance.”
* * * * *
[Sidenote: MENCIUS]
Next in educational order follows the work briefly known as
MENCIUS. This consists of seven books recording the sayings
and doings of a man to whose genius and devotion may be traced the
final triumph of Confucianism. Born in B.C. 372, a little over
a hundred years after the death of the Master, Mencius was brought up
under the care of his widowed mother, whose name is a household word
even at the present day. As a child he lived with her at first near
a cemetery, the result being that he began to reproduce in play the
solemn scenes which were constantly enacted before his eyes. His mother
accordingly removed to another house near the market-place, and before
long the little boy forgot all about funerals and played at buying and
selling goods. Once more his mother disapproved, and once more she
changed her dwelling; this time to a house near a college, where he
soon began to imitate the ceremonial observances in which the students
were instructed, to the great joy and satisfaction of his mother.
Later on he studied under K‘ung Chi, the grandson of Confucius; and
after having attained to a perfect apprehension of the roms or Way
of Confucius, became, at the age of about forty-five, Minister under
Prince Hsüan of the Ch‘i State. But the latter would not carry out his
principles, and Mencius threw up his post. Thence he wandered away to
several States, advising their rulers to the best of his ability, but
making no very prolonged stay. He then visited Prince Hui of the Liang
State, and abode there until the monarch’s death in B.C. 319.
After that event he returned to the State of Ch‘i and resumed his old
position. In B.C. 311 he once more felt himself constrained
to resign office, and retired finally into private life, occupying
himself during the remainder of his days in teaching and in preparing
the philosophical record which now passes under his name. He lived at
a time when the feudal princes were squabbling over the rival systems
of federation and imperialism, and he vainly tried to put into practice
at an epoch of blood and iron the gentle virtues of the Golden Age.
His criterion was that of Confucius, but his teachings were on a lower
plane, dealing rather with man’s well-being from the point of view
of political economy. He was therefore justly named by Chao Ch‘i the
Second Holy One or Prophet, a title under which he is still known. He
was an uncompromising defender of the doctrines of Confucius, and he
is considered to have effectually “snuffed out” the heterodox schools
of Yang Chu and Mo Ti.
The following is a specimen of the logomachy of the day, in which
Mencius is supposed to have excelled. The subject is a favourite
one--human nature:--
“Kao Tzŭ said, ‘Human nature may be compared with a block of wood; duty
towards one’s neighbour, with a wooden bowl. To develop charity and
duty towards one’s neighbour out of human nature is like making a bowl
out of a block of wood.’
“To this Mencius replied, ‘Can you, without interfering with the
natural constitution of the wood, make out of it a bowl? Surely you
must do violence to that constitution in the process of making your
bowl. And by parity of reasoning you would do violence to human nature
in the process of developing charity and duty towards one’s neighbour.
From which it follows that all men would come to regard these rather as
evils than otherwise.’
“Kao Tzŭ said, ‘Human nature is like rushing water, which flows east
or west according as an outlet is made for it. For human nature
makes indifferently for good or for evil, precisely as water makes
indifferently for the east or for the west.’
“Mencius replied, ‘Water will indeed flow indifferently towards the
east or west; but will it flow indifferently up or down? It will not;
and the tendency of human nature towards good is like the tendency of
water to flow down. Every man has this bias towards good, just as all
water flows naturally downwards. By splashing water, you may indeed
cause it to fly over your head; and by turning its course you may keep
it for use on the hillside; but you would hardly speak of such results
as the nature of water. They are the results, of course, of a _force
majeure_. And so it is when the nature of man is diverted towards evil.’
“Kao Tzŭ said, ‘That which comes with life is nature.’
“Mencius replied, ‘Do you mean that there is such a thing as nature in
the abstract, just as there is whiteness in the abstract?’
“‘I do,’ answered Kao Tzŭ.
“‘Just, for instance,’ continued Mencius, ‘as the whiteness of a
feather is the same as the whiteness of snow, or the whiteness of snow
as the whiteness of jade?’
“‘I do,’ answered Kao Tzŭ again.
“‘In that case,’ retorted Mencius, ‘the nature of a dog is the same as
that of an ox, and the nature of an ox the same as that of a man.’
“Kao Tzŭ said, ‘Eating and reproduction of the species are natural
instincts. Charity is subjective and innate; duty towards one’s
neighbour is objective and acquired. For instance, there is a man who
is my senior, and I defer to him as such. Not because any abstract
principle of seniority exists subjectively in me, but in the same way
that if I see an albino, I recognise him as a white man because he
is so objectively to me. Consequently, I say that duty towards one’s
neighbour is objective or acquired.’
“Mencius replied, ‘The cases are not analogous. The whiteness of a
white horse is undoubtedly the same as the whiteness of a white man;
but the seniority of a horse is not the same as the seniority of a
man. Does our duty to our senior begin and end with the fact of his
seniority? Or does it not rather consist in the necessity of deferring
to him as such?’
“Kao Tzŭ said, ‘I love my own brother, but I do not love another man’s
brother. The distinction arises from within myself; therefore I call it
subjective or innate. But I defer to a stranger who is my senior, just
as I defer to a senior among my own people. The distinction comes to me
from without; therefore I call it objective or acquired.”
“Mencius retorted, ‘We enjoy food cooked by strangers just as much as
food cooked by our own people. Yet extension of your principle lands
us in the conclusion that our appreciation of cooked food is also
objective and acquired.’”
* * * * *
The following is a well-known colloquy between Mencius and a sophist of
the day who tried to entangle the former in his talk:--
The sophist inquired, saying, “‘Is it a rule of social etiquette that
when men and women pass things from one to another they shall not allow
their hands to touch?’
“‘That is the rule,’ replied Mencius.
“‘Now suppose,’ continued the sophist, ‘that a man’s sister-in-law were
drowning, could he take hold of her hand and save her?’
“‘Any one who did not do so,’ said Mencius, ‘would have the heart of a
wolf. That men and women when passing things from one to another may
not let their hands touch is a rule for general application. To save
a drowning sister-in-law by taking hold of her hand is altogether an
exceptional case.’”
* * * * *
The works of Mencius abound, like the Confucian Analects, in
sententious utterances. The following examples illustrate his general
bias in politics:--“The people are of the highest importance; the gods
come second; the sovereign is of lesser weight.”
“Chieh and Chou lost the empire because they lost the people, which
means that they lost the confidence of the people. The way to gain
the people is to gain their confidence, and the way to do that is to
provide them with what they like and not with what they loathe.”
* * * * *
This is how Mencius snuffed out the two heterodox philosophers
mentioned above:--
“The systems of Yang Chu and Mo Ti fill the whole empire. If a man is
not a disciple of the former, he is a disciple of the latter. But Yang
Chu’s egoism excludes the claim of a sovereign, while Mo Ti’s universal
altruism leaves out the claim of a father. And he who recognises the
claim of neither sovereign nor father is a brute beast.”
* * * * *
Yang Chu seems to have carried his egoism so far that even to benefit
the whole world he would not have parted with a single hair from his
body.
“The men of old knew that with life they had come but for a while,
and that with death they would shortly depart again. Therefore they
followed the desires of their own hearts, and did not deny themselves
pleasures to which they felt naturally inclined. Fame tempted them not;
but led by their instincts alone, they took such enjoyments as lay in
their path, not seeking for a name beyond the grave. They were thus out
of the reach of censure; while as for precedence among men, or length
or shortness of life, these gave them no concern whatever.”
Mo Ti, on the other hand, showed that under the altruistic system all
calamities which men bring upon one another would altogether disappear,
and that the peace and happiness of the Golden Age would be renewed.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: TA HSÜEH AND CHUNG YUNG]
In the _Ta Hsüeh_, or Great Learning, which forms Sect. xxxix. of the
Book of Rites, and really means learning for adults, we have a short
politico-ethical treatise, the authorship of which is unknown, but
is usually attributed partly to Confucius, and partly to TSÊNG
TS’AN, one of the most famous of his disciples. In the former
portion there occurs the following well-known climax:--
“The men of old, in their desire to manifest great virtue throughout
the empire, began with good government in the various States. To
achieve this, it was necessary first to order aright their own
families, which in turn was preceded by cultivation of their own
selves, and that again by rectification of the heart, following upon
sincerity of purpose which comes from extension of knowledge, this last
being derived from due investigation of objective existences.”
* * * * *
One more short treatise, known as the _Chung Yung_, which forms Ch.
xxviii. of the Book of Rites, brings us to the end of the Four Books.
Its title has been translated in various ways.[2] Julien rendered the
term by “L’Invariable Milieu,” Legge by “The Doctrine of the Mean.” Its
authorship is assigned to K‘UNG CHI, grandson of Confucius.
He seems to have done little more than enlarge upon certain general
principles of his grandfather in relation to the nature of man and
right conduct upon earth. He seizes the occasion to pronounce an
impassioned eulogium upon Confucius, concluding with the following
words:--
“Therefore his fame overflows the Middle Kingdom, and reaches the
barbarians of north and south. Wherever ships and waggons can go, or
the strength of man penetrate; wherever there is heaven above and earth
below; wherever the sun and moon shed their light, or frosts and dews
fall,--all who have blood and breath honour and love him. Wherefore it
may be said that he is the peer of God.”
FOOTNOTE:
[2] _Chung_ means “middle,” and _Yung_ means “course,” the former being
defined by the Chinese as “that which is without deflection or bias,”
the latter as “that which never varies in its direction.”