distinguished?--The Master said: What do you mean by the term
"distinguished"?--Tzŭ Chang replied: I mean one whose fame fills both
his own private circle and the State at large.--The Master said: That
is notoriety, not distinction. The man of true distinction is simple,
honest, and a lover of justice and duty. He weighs men's words, and
observes the expression of their faces.[25] He is anxious to put
himself below others. Such a one is truly distinguished in his private
and his public life. As to the man who is merely much talked about, he
puts on an appearance of charity and benevolence, but his actions belie
it. He is self-satisfied and has no misgivings. Neither in private nor
in public life does he achieve more than notoriety.
Tzŭ Kung asked a question about friendship. The Master said: Be
conscientious in speaking to your friend, but tactful in your efforts
to guide him aright. If these fail, stop. Do not court a personal
rebuff.
The Duke of Shê addressed Confucius, saying: We have an upright man
in our country. His father stole a sheep, and the son bore witness
against him.--In our country, Confucius replied, uprightness is
something different from this. A father hides the guilt of his son, and
a son hides the guilt of his father. It is in such conduct that true
uprightness is to be found.
Fan Ch‘ih asked a question about moral virtue. The Master said: In
private life, show self-respect; in the management of affairs, be
attentive and thorough; in your dealings with others, be honest and
conscientious. Never abandon these principles, even among savages.
The Master said: The nobler sort of man is accommodating but not
obsequious; the inferior sort is obsequious but not accommodating.
The nobler sort of man is easy to serve yet difficult to please. Who
seeks to please him in wrongful ways will not succeed. In exacting
service from others, he takes account of aptitudes and limitations.
The baser sort of man is difficult to serve yet easy to please. Who
seeks to please him in any wrongful way will assuredly succeed. And he
requires absolute perfection in those from whom he exacts service.
The nobler sort of man is dignified but not proud; the inferior man is
proud but not dignified.
Hsien said: To refrain from self-glorification, to subdue feelings of
resentment, to control selfish desire--may this be held to constitute
perfect virtue?--The Master said: These things may certainly be
considered hard to achieve, but I am not so sure that they constitute
perfect virtue.[26]
The Master said: A man of inward virtue[27] will have virtuous words
on his lips, but a man of virtuous words is not always a virtuous man.
The man of perfect goodness[27b] is sure to possess courage, but the
courageous man is not necessarily good.
Can true love be anything but exacting? How can our sense of duty allow
us to abstain from admonition?
The nobler sort of man tends upwards; the baser sort tends downwards.
The princely type of man is modest in his speech, but liberal in his
performance.
The princely man has three great virtues, which I cannot claim for
myself. He is truly benevolent, and is free from care; he is truly
wise, and is free from delusions; he is truly brave, and is free from
fear.--Nay, replied Tzŭ Kung, these virtues are our Master's own.[27]
The Master said: Is not he a sage who neither anticipates deceit nor
suspects bad faith in others, yet is prompt to detect them when they
appear?
Some one asked: How do you regard the principle of returning good for
evil?--The Master said: What, then, is to be the return for good?
Rather should you return justice for injustice, and good for good.[28]
Tzŭ Lu asked about the conduct of the princely man.[29] The Master
said: He cultivates himself so as to gain in self-respect.--Does he
rest content with that?--He cultivates himself, was the reply, so as to
give happiness to others.--And is he content with that?--He cultivates
himself so as to confer peace and prosperity on the whole people.
By self-cultivation to confer peace and prosperity on the whole
people!--was not this the object which Yao and Shun still laboured to
attain?
Tzŭ Kung asked for advice on the practice of moral virtue. The Master
replied: If an artisan wants to do his work well, he must begin by
sharpening his tools. Even so, among the great men of your country, you
should serve the wise and good, and make friends of men who have this
moral virtue.
The Master said: The higher type of man makes a sense of duty the
groundwork of his character, blends with it in action a sense of
harmonious proportion, manifests it in a spirit of unselfishness, and
perfects it by the addition of sincerity and truth. Then indeed is he a
noble character.
The higher type of man seeks all that he wants in himself; the inferior
man seeks all that he wants from others.
The higher type of man is firm but not quarrelsome; sociable, but not
clannish.
The wise man does not esteem a person more highly because of what he
says, neither does he undervalue what is said because of the person who
says it.
Tzŭ Kung asked, saying: Is there any one maxim which ought to be acted
upon throughout one's whole life?--The Master replied: Surely the maxim
of charity[30] is such:--Do not unto others what you would not they
should do unto you.
The nobler sort of man pays special attention to nine points. He is
anxious to see clearly, to hear distinctly, to be kindly in his looks,
respectful in his demeanour, conscientious in his speech, earnest in
his affairs; when in doubt, he is careful to inquire; when in anger, he
thinks of the consequences; when offered an opportunity for gain, he
thinks only of his duty.
Tzŭ Chang asked Confucius a question about moral virtue. Confucius
replied: Moral virtue simply consists in being able, anywhere and
everywhere, to exercise five particular qualities. Asked what these
were, he said: Self-respect, magnanimity, sincerity, earnestness and
benevolence. Show self-respect, and others will respect you;[31]
be magnanimous, and you will win all hearts; be sincere, and men
will trust you; be earnest, and you will achieve great things; be
benevolent, and you will be fit to impose your will on others.
Tzŭ Lu asked: Docs not the princely man[32] value courage?--The Master
said: He puts righteousness first. The man of high station[33] who has
courage without righteousness is a menace to the State; the common man
who has courage without righteousness is nothing more than a brigand.
Tzu Kung asked: Has the nobler sort of man any hatreds?--The Master
replied: He has. He hates those who publish the faults of others; he
hates men of low condition who vilify those above them; he hates those
whose courage is unaccompanied by self-restraint; he hates those who
are audacious but narrow-minded. And you, Tz‘ŭ, he added, have you
also your hatreds?--I hate, replied the disciple, those who think
that wisdom consists in prying and meddling; courage, in showing no
compliance; and honesty, in denouncing other men.
[1] This is the much-discussed _chün tzŭ_, an expression of which the
stereotyped English equivalent is "the superior man." But in this there
is, unhappily, a tinge of blended superciliousness and irony absolutely
foreign to the native phrase, which in my opinion makes it unsuitable.
"Princely man" is as nearly as possible the literal translation, and
sometimes, as we shall see, it actually means "prince." But in the
majority of cases the connotation of rank or authority is certainly
not explicit, and as a general rendering I have preferred "the higher
type of man," "the nobler sort of man," or sometimes more simply, "the
good man." Perhaps the nearest approximation in any European language
is to be found in the Greek ὁ καλὸς κἀγαθός, because that implies high
mental and moral qualities combined with all the outward bearing of a
gentleman. Compare also Aristotle's ὁ σπουδαἲος, who is however rather
more abstract and ideal.
[2] _Jên_, the term here translated "virtue," is perhaps the most
important single word in the Analects, and the real corner-stone
of Confucian ethics. Its primary meaning, in accordance with the
etymology, is "humanity" in the larger sense, i.e. natural goodness
of heart as shown in intercourse with one's fellow-men. Hence it
is sometimes best translated "loving-kindness" or "charity" in the
biblical sense, though in many cases a more convenient, if vaguer,
rendering is "virtue," "moral virtue," or even, as in Legge, "perfect
virtue."
[3] Literally, "he may be called a lover of learning." But "learning"
in the mouth of Confucius is generally to be understood as study of
the rules of right conduct with a view to their practical application.
The object of all learning was to enable a man to develop the natural
goodness within him, so as to lead a life of virtuous culture. It was
not pursued solely for its own sake, nor had it become, as with us,
divorced from all ethical significance.
[4] The chief of the house of Mêng, one of the three great families of
Lu, and (according to Ssŭ-ma Ch‘ien) a disciple of Confucius.
[5] The reply is enigmatical, but it is clear from what follows that
this, and not, as Legge translates, "disobedience," is the true meaning.
[6] The eldest son of Mêng I Tzŭ.
[7] It is astonishing that Chu Hsi should have tried to improve on
the old commentators here, and almost equally astonishing that Legge
should have followed him, with this result: "The Master said, Parents
are anxious lest their children should be sick" (and therefore children
should take care of their persons)!
[8] Here again it is almost incredible that Legge should have adopted
such a ridiculous interpretation as the following--without the
authority, this time, of Chu Hsi: "The filial piety of nowadays means
the support of one's parents. But dogs and horses likewise are able
to do something in the way of support." The image conjured up by this
sentence is grotesque, to say the least.
[9] Literally, "colour difficult." This famous sentence, a
stumbling-block to native and foreigner alike, surely marks the extreme
limit to which conciseness can be carried in Chinese. "The difficulty
is with the countenance" is the lame translation offered by Legge,
and later scholars have mostly followed in his footsteps, even Mr. Ku
Hung-ming failing badly for once. Where all have gone astray is in
taking the "difficulty" to exist in the mind of the would-be filial
son, instead of being that felt by the onlooker who wishes to gauge
the genuineness of the quality in others. Only a few months ago, a new
and ingenious interpretation was suggested by my father, Professor
H. A. Giles, namely: "To define it is difficult"; but after much
consideration I am led to prefer the rendering in the text, inasmuch as
the word _sê_ is quite commonly used to denote the external as opposed
to the internal, form as opposed to essence.
[10] The answer of course is--No; outward acts do not constitute filial
piety, unless prompted by a genuine duteous feeling in the heart.
[11] A notable utterance, which may be commended to those who have been
taught to regard Confucius as a man of ceremonies and outward show.
[12] In order that the parents may know where their son is.
[13] Of the Ch‘u State.
[14] The root idea of this word _chung_ is loyalty to _oneself_,
devotion to principle, or, as Mr. Ku Hung-ming well translates it,
conscientiousness. Loyalty or fidelity to the sovereign is only an
extended sense. Here the two ideas appear to be blended, but in a
famous passage to be noted further on (p. 118) much trouble has
resulted from ignoring the first and fundamental meaning.
[15] A high officer in Ch‘i, the state adjoining Lu.
[16] The fact that Ch‘ên Wên Tzŭ could not reconcile it with his
conscience to settle in any of the states which he visited throws a
lurid light on the disorder prevailing in the Empire at this period
(547 B.C.). Murder and usurpation were evidently the rule rather than
the exception.
[17] That is to say, the virtuous act, which he will perform for its
own sake, regardless of consequences.
[18] Each finds pleasure in that part of Nature which resembles himself.
[19] As may be inferred from its composition, the character _li_
originally had sole reference to religious rites, whence however
it came to be applied to every sort of ceremonial, including the
ordinary rules of politeness, the etiquette of society, the conduct
befitting all stations of life, and moreover to the state of mind
of which such conduct is the outcome. This state of mind is one of
equably adjusted harmony and self-restraint, and it is in this sense
of an inward principle of proportion and self-control that the word
is frequently used in the Analects. Why such a vile phrase as "the
rules of propriety" was ever coined to express this subtle conception,
and retained in every context, however inappropriate, must remain
an insoluble mystery. Is it surprising that one of the greatest
of world-teachers should still be waiting to come into his full
heritage, when his sayings are made to suggest nothing so much as the
headmistress of a young ladies' seminary?
[20] It is interesting to observe that Confucius allows a grade of
heroic and almost divine virtue even above that which constitutes
complete goodness for all practical purposes, just as Aristotle places
his θεῖός τις ἀνήρ above the σώφρων.
[21] It is only fair to mention that the above is not an exact
translation of the words in the Chinese text, though I believe their
import to be what I have set down. The point is too technical and
abstruse to be discussed here.
[22] See note on p. 60. This is the solemn nonsense dished up by Legge:
"Look not at what is contrary to propriety; listen not to what is
contrary to propriety; speak not what is contrary to propriety; make no
movement which is contrary to propriety."
[23] Confucius here, as in general, suits his reply to the questioner.
In answering Yen Yüan, the model disciple, he had gone to the very
root of the matter, making it clear that the essence of true goodness
has little or nothing to do with externals. To Chung Kung, who was
less advanced and doubtless somewhat lacking in grace or dignity
of demeanour, he gives more superficial advice, but winds up by
enunciating the Golden Rule, which is the best practical manner of
manifesting inward goodness of heart.
[24] There seems to be a play on this word which cannot be brought out
in translation.
[25] This probably means that he will not rely on words alone in
judging of character.
[26] Being too purely negative.
[27] It is almost impossible, here and in other passages, to make any
real distinction of meaning between _te_, the manifestation of eternal
principles in the soul of man, and _jên_, natural goodness of heart,
though the former, being more universal and abstract, may be said to
include the latter, which generally implies a certain relation to one's
fellow-men.
[28] The principle of returning good for evil, which is here apparently
represented as a well-known ethical doctrine, was first enunciated, so
far as we know, by Lao Tzŭ. Confucius rejects this vain idealism, and
advocates the much sounder and more practical basis for society given
in the text.
[29] Here chün tzŭ seems almost to denote an actual prince, not merely
a man with princely qualities.
[30] Legge translates _shu_ "reciprocity," apparently for no other
reason than to explain the maxim that follows. But it really stands
for something higher than the strictly utilitarian principle of _do ut
des_. Both here and in another famous passage (see p. 118) it is almost
equivalent to _jên_, goodness of heart, only with the idea of altruism
more explicitly brought out. It connotes sympathetic consideration for
others, and hence the best rendering would seem to be "loving-kindness"
or "charity." The concluding maxim is really nothing more nor less than
the Golden Rule of Christ, though less familiar to us in its negative
form.
[32] The Chinese have a proverb: "A man must insult himself before
others will."
[33] A good example of the fluctuating content of the term _chün tzŭ_,
which in the disciple's question implies morality without reference to
rank, and in the Master's reply rank and authority without definite
moral qualities.
CONFUCIUS' ESTIMATE OF OTHERS
The Master said: I may talk all day to Hui without his putting in
a word of criticism or dissent--just as though he were deficient
in understanding. But after he has left me, I find, on examining
his private conduct, that he knows for all that how to exemplify my
teaching. No! Hui is not deficient in understanding.
Tzŭ Kung asked, saying: What, Sir, is your opinion of me?--I would
liken you, Tz‘ŭ, replied the Master, to a vessel limited in its
function.--What sort of vessel? asked Tzŭ Kung.--A richly ornamented
sacrificial vessel, was the reply.[1]
Some one remarked that Yung had goodness of heart but no cleverness of
speech.--The Master said: Of what use is cleverness of speech? Those
who are always ready to assail others with their tongue are sure to
make themselves disliked. As to Yung's goodness of heart I have no
certain knowledge; but how would he benefit by having cleverness of
speech?
The Master said: My teaching makes no head-way. How and if I were to
board a raft and float away over the sea? My friend Yu would come with
me, I feel sure.--Tzŭ Lu, hearing this, was glad. The Master continued:
Yu surpasses me in his love of daring, but he lacks discretion and
judgment.
Mêng Wu Po asked whether Tzŭ Lu had true moral virtue. The Master
replied: I do not know.--- Asked a second time, the Master said:
Yu might be trusted to organise the military levies of a large and
powerful State, but whether he is possessed of true virtue I cannot
say.--And what is your opinion with regard to Ch‘iu?--The Master said:
Ch‘iu might be entrusted with the government of a district numbering a
thousand households or a hundred war-chariots, but whether he has true
virtue I cannot say.--And Ch‘ih, what of him?--The Master said: Ch‘ih
might be employed to stand in his official dress at a royal levee and
converse with the visitors and guests; whether he has true virtue I
cannot say.[2]
The Master addressing Tzŭ Kung said: Which of the two is the better
man, you or Hui?--Tzŭ Kung replied: How can I venture to compare myself
with Hui? Hui hears one point and promptly masters the whole. I hear
one point and am only able to feel my way to a second.--The Master
agreed: No, you are not equal to Hui; neither of us two[3] is equal to
Hui.
Tsai Yü used to sleep during the day. The Master said: Rotten wood
cannot be carved, walls made of dirt and mud cannot be plastered:
--what is the good of reprimanding Yü? At first, he continued, my way
of dealing with others was to listen to their words and to take their
actions upon trust. Now, my way is to listen to what they say and then
to watch what they do. This change in me is owing to Yü.
The Master said: I have never yet met a really strong character.--Some
one suggested Shên Ch‘êng.--The Master said: Ch‘êng is a slave to his
passions. How can he possess strength of character?
Tzŭ Kung said: I am anxious to avoid doing to others that which I
would not have them do to me. The Master said: Tz‘ŭ, you have not got
as far as that.
The Master said of Tzŭ Ch‘an[4] that he had four of the qualities of
the princely man:--in his personal demeanour he was grave, in serving
those above him he was attentive, in his care for the people he was
kind, in his ordering of the people he was just.
The Master said: Yen P'ing[5] knows the art of associating with his
friends: however old the acquaintance may be, he always treats them
with the same respect.
Ning Wu Tzŭ's[6] behaviour was wise so long as his country was well
governed; when revolution came, his behaviour was stupid. His wisdom
may be equalled by others, but his stupidity is beyond all imitation.
Po I and Shu Ch‘i[7] never remembered old injuries, and therefore
their enemies were few.
Who will say that Wei-sheng Kao[8] was an upright man? When asked by
somebody for some vinegar, he went and begged it of a neighbour, and
gave this to the man who had asked him.
For the space of three months together Hui[9] would not deviate in
spirit from the path of perfect virtue. My other disciples may attain
this height once in a day or in a month, but that is all.
Po Niu[10] lying sick unto death, the Master went to visit him. He
clasped his hand through the window and said: He is dying. Such is
fate. Alas! that such a man should have such an illness, that such a
man should have such an illness!
The Master said: Hui was indeed a philosopher! Other men living as he
did, in a miserable alley, with a single dish of food and a single bowl
of drink, could not have endured the distress. But Hui was invariably
cheerful. He was a philosopher indeed!
Jan Ch‘iu said: It is not that I have no joy in my Master's teaching,
it is my strength that fails me.--The Master replied: Those whose
strength fails them fall fainting by the way. What you do is to set up
bounds which you will not attempt to pass.
The Master said: Mêng Chih-fan is no braggart. Once after a defeat,
when he was bringing up the rear, he whipped his horse as he was about
to enter the city gate, and cried: It is not courage that makes me
last, it is my horse that won't gallop fast enough.[11]
The Master addressing Yen Yüan said: It is only you and I who would be
content to accept public employment when it was offered to us, and to
retire into obscurity when we were dismissed.--Tzŭ Lu then said: If
you, Sir, had the conduct of three legions, whom would you associate
with yourself in the command?--I would not, replied the Master, choose
a man who would attack a tiger unarmed, cross a river without a boat,
or sacrifice his life without a moment's regret. Rather should it be
one who would not embark on an enterprise without anxiety, and who was
accustomed to lay his plans well before putting them into execution.[12]
The Master said: T‘ai Po may be said to have reached the summit of
virtue. Having resolutely renounced the Imperial throne, he put it out
of the people's power to glorify his act of renunciation![13]
In the Emperor Yü[14] I find no loophole for censure. His own food
and drink were plain, but his offerings to the ancestral spirits
showed extreme piety. His own garments were poor, but his robes and
cap of state were extremely fine. His own dwelling was humble, but
he spent all his strength on the construction of public canals and
water-courses. I find no loophole for censure in Yü.
After the word had gone forth, Hui was never backward in his deeds.
The Master speaking of Yen Yüan said: Ah, what a loss! I used to see
him ever progressing and never coming to a standstill.
The Master said: Yu, I fancy, is a man who would stand up, dressed in
shabby garments quilted with hemp, among people attired in furs of fox
and badger, and not be ashamed. "Hating none and courting none, how
can he be other than good?"[15]--As Tzŭ Lu kept constantly humming
over this line, the Master said: This rule of conduct is not enough by
itself to constitute goodness.
The Master said: None of those who accompanied me on the journey to the
states of Ch‘ên and Ts‘ai come to learn from me now.[16] Distinguished
for their virtuous conduct were Yen Yüan, Min Tzŭ-ch‘ien, Jan Po-niu
and Chung Kung; for their skill in speaking, Tsai Wo and Tzŭ Kung; for
their administrative powers, Jan Yu and Chi Lu; for their literary
attainments, Tzŭ Yu and Tzŭ Hsia.
Hui does not help me[17]--he takes such delight in everything I say.
What noble piety[18] is that of Min Tzŭ-ch‘ien! Other men speak of him
in exactly the same terms as his own parents and his own brethren.
When Yen Yüan died, the Master wept with passionate grief, so
that those who were with him said: Master, your sorrow is too
passionate.--Is it too passionate? he replied. Whose death should be a
cause for violent grief, if not this man's?
On one occasion there were standing in attendance on the Master Min
Tzŭ, looking gentle and mild; Tzŭ Lu, looking upright and soldierly;
Jan Yu and Tzŭ Kung, looking frank and affable. The Master was pleased.
"A man like Yu," he remarked, "will not come by a natural death."[19]