The Chinese Classics — Prolegomena

by Unknown

CHAPTER III. OF THE GREAT LEARNING.

SECTION I. HISTORY OF THE TEXT, AND THE DIFFERENT ARRANGEMENTS OF IT WHICH HAVE BEEN PROPOSED.

1. It has already been mentioned that 'The Great Learning' frms one of the Books of the Li Chi, or 'Record of Rites,' the formation of the text of which will be treated of in its proper place. I will only say here, that the Records of Rites had suffered much more, after the death of Confucius, than the other ancient Classics which were supposed to have been collected and digested by him. They were in a more dilapidated condition at the time of the revivial of the ancient literature under the Han dynasty, and were then published in three collections, only one of which — the Record of Rites — retains its place among the five Ching. The Record of Rites consists, according to the ordinary arrangement, of forty-nine Chapters or Books. Liu Hsiang (see ch. I. sect. II. 2) took the lead in its formation, and was followed by the two famous scholars, Tai Teh [1], and his relative, Tai Shang [2]. The first of these reduced upwards of 200 chapters, collected by Hsiang, to eighty-nine, and Shang reduced these again to forty- six. The three other Books were added in the second century of our era, the Great Learning being one of them, by Ma Yung, mentioned in the last chapter, section III.2. Since his time, the Work has not received any further additions. 2. In his note appended to what he calls the chapter of 'Classical Text,' Chu Hsi says that the tablets of the 'old copies' of the rest of the Great Learning were considerably out of order. By those old copies, he intends the Work of Chang Hsuan, who published his commentary on the Classic, soon after it was completed by the additions of Ma Yung; and t is possible that the tablets were in confusion, and had not been arranged with sufficient care; but such a thing does not appear to have been suspected until the

1 戴德 2 戴聖 Shang was a second cousin of Teh.

twelfth century, nor can any evidence from ancient monuments be adduced in its support. I have related how the ancient Classics were cut on slabs of stone by imperial order, A.D. 175, the text being that which the various literati had determined, and which had been adopted by Chang Hsuan. The same work was performed about seventy years later, under the so-called dynasty of Wei, between the years 240 and 248, and the two sets of slabs were set up together. The only difference between them was, that whereas the Classics had been cut in the first instance only in one form, the characters in the slabs of Wei were in three different forms. Amd the changes of dynasties, the slabs both of Han and Wei had perished, or nearly so, before the rise of the T'ang dynasty, A.D. 624; but under one of its emperors, in the year 836, a copy of the Classics was again cut on stone, though only in one form of the character. These slabs we can trace down through the Sung dynasty, when they were known as the tablets of Shen [1]. They were in exact conformity with the text of the Classics adopted by Chang Hsuan in his commentaries; and they exist at the present day at the city of Hsi-an, Shen-hsi, still called by the same name. The Sung dynasty did not accomplish a similar work itself, nor did either of the two which followed it think it necessary to engrave in stone in this way the ancient Classics. About the middle of the sixteenth century, however, the literary world in China was startled by a reprt that the slabs of Wei which contained the Great Learning had been discovered. But this was nothing more than the result f an impudent attempt at an imposition, for which it is difficult to a foreigner to assign any adequate cause. The treatise, as printed from these slabs, has some trifling additions, and many alterations in the order of the text, but differing from the arrangements proposed by Chu Hsi, and by other scholars. There seems to be now no difference of opinion among Chinese critics that the whole affair was a forgery. The text of the Great Learning, as it appears in the Record of Rites with the commentary of Chang Hsuan, and was thrice engraved on stone, in three different dynasties, is, no doubt, that which was edited in the Han dynasty by Ma Yung. 3. I have said, that it is possible that the tablets containing the

1 陜碑.

text were not arranged with sufficient care by him; and indeed, any one who studies the treatise attentively, will probably come to the conclusion that the part of it forming the first six chapters of commentary in the present Work is but a fragment. It would not be a difficult task to propose an arrangement of the text different from any which I have yet seen; but such an undertaking would not be interesting out of China. My object here is simply to mention the Chinese scholars wh have rendered themselves famous or notorious in their own country by what they hav done in this way. The first was Ch'ang Hao, a native of Lo-yang in Ho-nan Province, in the eleventh century [1]. His designation of Po-shun, but since his death he has been known chiefly by the style of Ming-tao [2], which we may render the Wise-in-doctrine. The eulogies heaped on him by Chu Hsi and others are extravagant, and he is placed immediately after Mencious in the list of great scholars. Doubtless he was a man of vast literary acquirements. The greatest change which he introduced into the Great Learning, was to read sin [3] for ch'in [4], at the commencement, making the second object proposed in the treatise to be the renovation of the people, instead of loving them. This alteration and his various transpositions of the text are found in Mao Hsi-ho's treatise on 'The Attested Text of the Great Learning [5].' Hardly less illustrious than Ch'ang Hao was his younger brother Ch'ang I, known by the style of Chang-shu [6], and since his death by that of I-chwan [7]. He followed Hao in the adoption of the reading 'to renovate,' instead of 'to love.' But he transposed the text differently, more akin to the arrangement afterwards made by Chu Hsi, suggesting also that there were some superfluous sentences in the old text which might conveniently be erased. The Work, as proposed to be read by him, will be found in the volume of Mao just referred to. We come to the name of Chu Hsi who entered into the labors of the brothers Ch'ang, the young of whom he styles his Master, in his introductory note to the Great Learning. His arrangement of the text is that now current in all the editions of the Four Books, and it had nearly displaced the ancient text

1 程子顥﹐字伯淳﹐河南﹐洛陽人. 2 明道. 3 新. 4 親. 5 大學證. 6 程子頤﹐字正叔﹐明道之弟. 7 伊川.

altogether. The sanction of Imperial approval was given to it during the Yuan and Ming dynasties. In the editions of the Five Ching published by them, only the names of the Doctrine of the Mean and the Great Learning were preserved. No text of these Books was given, and Hsi-ho tells us that in the reign of Chia- ching [1], the most flourishing period of the Ming dynasty (A.D. 1522-1566), when Wang Wan-ch'ang [2] published a copy of the Great Learning, taken from the T'ang edition of the Thirteen Ching, all the officers and scholars looked at one another in astonishment, and were inclined to supposed that the Work was a forgery. Besides adopting the reading of sin for ch'in from the Ch'ang, and modifying their arrangements of the text, Chu Hsi made other innovations. He first divided the whole into one chapter of Classical text, which he assigned to Confucius, and then chapters of Commentary, which he assigned to the disciple Tsang. Previous to him, the whole had been published, indeed, without any specification of chapters and paragraphs. He undertook, moreover, to supply one whole chapter, which he supposed, after his master Ch'ang, to be missing. Since the time of Chu Hsi, many scholars have exercised their wit on the Great Learning. The work of Mao Hsi-ho contains four arrangements of the text, proposed respectively by the scholars Wang Lu-chai [3], Chi P'ang-shan [4], Kao Ching-yi [5], and Ko Ch'i-chan [6]. The curious student may examine them here. Under the present dynasty, the tendency has been to depreciate the labors of Chu Hsi. The integrity of the text of Chang Hsuan is zealously maintained, and the simpler method of interpretation employed by him is advocated in preference to the more refined and ingenious schemes of the Sung scholars. I have referred several times in the notes to a Work published a few years ago, under the title of 'The Old Text of the sacred Ching, with Commentary and Discussions, by Lo Chung-fan of Nan-hai [7].' I knew the man many years ago. He was a fine scholar, and had taken the second degree, or that of Chu-zan. He applied to me in 1843 for Christian baptism, and, offended by my hesitancy, went and enrolled himself among the disciples of another missionary. He soon, however,

1 嘉靖. 2 王文成. 3 王魯齊. 4 李彭山. 5 高景逸. 6 葛屺瞻 7 聖經古本,南海羅仲藩註辨.

withdrew into seclusion, and spent the last years of his life in literary studies. His family have published the Work on the Great Learning, and one or two others. He most vehemently impugns nearly every judgment of Chu Hsi; but in his own exhibitions of the meaning he blends many ideas of the Supreme Being and of the condition of human nature, which he had learned from the Christian Scriptures.

SECTION II. OF THE AUTHORSHIP, AND DISTINCTION OF THE TEXT INTO CLASSICAL TEXT AND COMMENTARY.

1. The authorship of the Great Learning is a very doubtful point, and one on which it does not appear possible to come to a decided conclusion. Chu Hsi, as I have stated in the last section, determined that so much of it was Ching, or Classic, being the very words of Confucius, and that all the rest was Chwan, or Commentary, being the views of Tsang Shan upon the sage's words, recorded by his disciples. Thus, he does not expressly attribute the composition of the Treatise to Tsang, as he is generally supposed to do. What he says, however, as it is destitute of external support, is contrary also to the internal evidence. The fourth chapter of commentary commences with 'The Master said.' Surely, if there were anything more, directly from Confucius, there would be an intimation of it in the same way. Or, if we may allow that short sayings of Confucius might be interwoven with the Work, as in the fifteenth paragraph of the tenth chapter, without referring them expressly to him, it is too much to ask us to receive the long chapter at the beginning as being from him. With regard to the Work having come from the disciples of Tsang Shan, recording their master's views, the paragraph in chapter sixth, commencing with 'The disciple Tsang said,' seems to be conclusive against such an hypothesis. So much we may be sure is Tsang's, and no more. Both of Chu Hsi's judgments must be set aside. We cannot admit either the distinction of the contents into Classical text and Commentary, or that the Work was the production of Tsang's disciples. 2. Who then was the author? An ancient tradition attributes it to K'ung Chi, the grandson of Confucius. In a notice published, at the time of their preparation, about the stone slabs of Wei, the

following statement by Chia K'wei, a noted scholar of the first century, is found:— 'When K'ung Chi was living, and in straits, in Sung, being afraid lest the lessons of the former sages should become obscure, and the principles of the ancient sovereigns and kings fall to the ground, he therefore made the Great Learning as the warp of them, and the Doctrine of the Mean as the woof [1].' This would seem, therefore, to have been the opinion of that early time, and I may say the only difficulty in admitting it is that no mention is made of it by Chang Hsuan. There certainly is that agreement between the two treatises, which makes their common authorship not at all unlikely. 3. Though we cannot positively assign the authorship of the Great Learning, there can be no hesitation in receiving it as a genuine monument of the Confucian school. There are not many words in it from the sage himself, but it is a faithful reflection of his teachings, written by some of his followers, not far removed from him by lapse of time. It must synchronize pretty nearly with the Analects, and may be safely referred to the fifth century before our era.

SECTION III. ITS SCOPE AND VALUE.

1. The worth of the Great Learning has been celebrated in most extravagant terms by Chinese writers, and there have been foreigners who have not yielded to them in their estimation of it. Pauthier, in the 'Argument Philosphique,' prefixed to his translation of the Work, says:— 'It is evident that the aim of the Chinese philosopher is to exhibit the duties of political government as those of the perfecting of self, and of the practice of virtue by all men. He felt that he had a higher mission than that with which the greater part of ancient and modern philosophers have contented themselves; and his immense love for the happiness of humanity, which dominated over all his other sentiments, has made of his

1 唐氏秦疏有曰,虞松校刻石經于魏表,引漢賈逵之言,曰,孔伋窮居于宋,懼先聖 之學不明,而帝王之道墜,故作大學以經之,中庸以緯之; see the 大學證文,一, p. 5.

philosophy a system of social perfectionating, which, we venture to say, has never been equalled.' Very different is the judgment passed upon the treatise by a writer in the Chinese Repository: 'The Ta Hsio is a short politico- moral discourse. Ta Hsio, or "Superior Learning," is at the same time both the name and the subject of the discourse; it is the summum bonum of the Chinese. In opening this Book, compiled by a disciple of Confucius, and containing his doctrines, we might expect to find a work like Cicero's De Officiis; but we find a very different production, consisting of a few commonplace rules for the maintenance of a good government [1].' My readers will perhaps think, after reading the present section, that the truth lies between these two representations. 2. I believe that the Book should be styled T'ai Hsio [2], and not Ta Hsio, and that it was so named as setting forth the higher and more extensive principles of moral science, which come into use and manifestation in the conduct of government. When Chu Shi endeavours to make the title mean — 'The principles of Learning, which were taught in the higher schools of antiquity,' and tells us how at the age of fifteen, all the sons of the sovereign, with the legitimate sons of the nobles, and high officers, down to the more promising scions of the common people, all entered these seminaries, and were taught the difficult lessons here inculcated, we pity the ancient youth of China. Such 'strong meat' is not adapted for the nourishment of youthful minds. But the evidence adduced for the existence of such educational institutions in ancient times is unsatisfactory, and from the older interpretation of the title we advance more easily to contemplate the object and method of the Work. 3. The object is stated definitely enough in the opening paragraph: 'What the Great Learning teaches, is — to illustrate illustrious virtue; to love the people; and to rest in the highest excellence.' The political aim of the writer is here at once evident. He has before him on one side, the people, the masses of the empire, and over against them are those whose work and duty, delegated by Heaven, is to govern them, culminating, as a class, in 'the son of Heaven [3],' 'the One man [4],' the sovereign. From the fourth and

1 Chinese Repository, vol. iii. p. 98 2 太學, not 大學. See the note on the title of the Work below. 3 天子, Cl. (classical) Text, par. 6, 2. 4 一人, Comm. ix. 3.

fifth paragraphs, we see that if the lessons of the treatise be learned and carried into practice, the result will be that 'illustrious virtue will be illustrated throughout the nation,' which will be brought, through all its length and breadth, to a condition of happy tranquillity. This object is certainly both grand and good; annd if a reasonable and likely method to secure it were proposed in the Work, language would hardly supply terms adequate to express its value. 4. But the above account of the object of the Great Learning leads us to the conclusion that the student of it should be a sovereign. What interest can an ordinary man have in it? It is high up in the clouds, far beyond his reach. This is a serious objection to it, and quite unfits it for a place in schools, such as Chu Hsi contends it once had. Intelligent Chinese, whose minds were somewhat quickened by Christianity, have spoken to me of this defect, and complained of the difficulty they felt in making the book a practical directory for their conduct. 'It is so vague and vast,' was the observation of one man. The writer, however, has made some provision for the general application of his instructions. He tells us that, from the sovereign down to the mass of the people, all must consider the cultivation of the person to be the root, that is, the first thing to be attended to [1]. _as in his method, moreover, he reaches from the cultivation of the person to the tranquillization of the kingdom, through the intermediate steps of the regulation of the family, and the government of the State [2], there is room for setting forth principles that parents and rulers generally may find adapted for their guidance. 5. The method which is laid down for the attainment of the great object proposed, consists of seven steps:— the investigation of things; the completion of knowledge; the sincerity of the thoughts; the rectifying of the heart; the cultivation of the person; the regulation of the family; and the government of the state. These form the steps of a climax, the end of which is the kingdom tranquillized. Pauthier calls the paragraphs where they occur instances of the sorites, or abridged syllogism. But they elong to rhetoric, and not to logic. 6. In offering some observations on these steps, and the writer's treatment of them, it will be well to separate them into those preceding the cultivation of the person, and those following it; and to

1 Cl. Text, par. 6. 2 Cl. Text, pars. 4. 5.

deal with the latter first. — Let us suppose that the cultivation of the person is fully attained, every discordant mental element having been subdued and removed. It is assumed that the regulation of the family will necessarily flow from this. Two short paragraphs are all that are given to the illustration of the point, and they are vague generalities on the subject of men's being led astray by their feelings and affections. The family being regulated, there will result from it the government of the State. First, the virtues taught in the family have their correspondencies in the wider sphere. Filial piety will appear as loyalty. Fraternal submission will be seen in respect and obedience to elders and superiors. Kindness is capable of universal application. Second, 'From the loving example of one family, a whole State becomes loving, and from its courtesies the whole State become courteous [1].' Seven paragraphs suffice to illustrate these statements, and short as they are, the writer goes back to the topic of self-cultivation, returning from the family to the individual. The State being governed, the whole empire will become peaceful and happy. There is even less of connexion, however, in the treatment of this theme, between the premiss and the conclusion, than in the two previous chapters. Nothing is said about the relation between the whole kingdom, and its component States, or any one of them. It is said at once, 'What is meant by "The making the whole kingdom peaceful and happy depends on the government of the State," is this:— When the sovereign behaves to his aged, as the aged should be behaved to, the people become filial; when the sovereign behaves to his elders, as elders should be behaved to, the people learn brotherly submission; when the sovereign treats compassionately the young and helpless, the people do the same [2].' This is nothing but a repetition of the preceding chapter, instead of that chapter's being made a step from which to go on to the splendid consummation of the good government of the whole kingdom. The words which I have quoted are followed by a very striking enunciation of the golden rule in its negative form, and under the name of the measuring square, and all the lessons of the chapter are connected more or less closely with that. The application of this principle by a ruler, whose heart is in the first place in loving sympathy with the people, will guide him in all the exactions which

1 See Comm. ix. 3. 2 See Comm. x. 1.

he lays upon them, and in his selection of ministers, in such a way that he will secure the affections of his subjects, and his throne will be established, for 'by gaining the people, the kingdom is gained, and, by losing the people, the kingdom is lost [1].' There are in this part of the treatise many valuable sentiments, and counsels for all in authority over others. The objection to it is, that, as the last step of the climax, it does not rise upon all the others with the accumulated force of their conclusions, but introduces us to new principles of action, and a new line of argument. Cut off the commencement of the first paragraph which connects it with the preceding chapters, and it would form a brief but admirable treatise by itself on the art of government. This brief review of the writer's treatment of the concluding steps of his method will satisfy the reader that the execution is not equal to the design; and, moreover, underneath all the reasoning, and more especially apparent in the eighth and ninth chapters of commentary (according to the ordinary arrangement of the work), there lies the assumption that example is all but omnipotent. We find this principle pervading all the Confucian philosophy. And doubtless it is a truth, most important in education and government, that the influence of example is very great. I believe, and will insist upon it hereafter in these prolegomena, that we have come to overlook this element in our conduct of administration. It will be well if the study of the Chinese Classics should call attention to it. Yet in them the subject is pushed to an extreme, and represented in an extravagant manner. Proceeding from the view of human nature that it is entirely good, and led astray only by influences from without, the sage of China and his followers attribute to personal example and to instruction a power which we do not find that they actually possess. 7. The steps which precede the cultivation of the person are more briefly dealt with than those which we have just considered. 'The cultivation of the person results from the rectifying of the heart or mind [2].' True, but in the Great Learning very inadequately set forth. 'The rectifying of the mind is realized when the thoughts are made sincere [3].' And the thoughts are sincere, when no self- deception is allowed, and we move without effort to what is right and wrong, 'as we love what is beautiful, and as we dislike a bad

1 Comm. x. 5. 2 Comm. vii. 1. 3 Comm. Ch. vi.

smell [1].' How are we to attain this state? Here the Chinese moralist fails us. According to Chu Hsi's arrangement of the Treatise, there is only one sentence from which we can frame a reply to the above question. 'Therefore,' it is said, 'the superior man must be watchful over himself when he is alone [2].' Following. Chu's sixth chapter of commentary, and forming, we may say, part of it, we have in the old arrangement of the Great Learning all the passages which he has distributed so as to form the previous five chapters. But even from the examination of them, we do not obtain the information which we desire on this momentous inquiry. 8. Indeed, the more I study the Work, the more satisfied I become, that from the conclusion of what is now called the chapter of classical text to the sixth chapter of commentary, we have only a few fragments, which it is of no use trying to arrange, so as fairly to exhibit the plan of the author. According to his method, the chapter on the connexion between making the thoughts sincere and so rectifying the mental nature, should be preceded by one on the completion of knowledge as the means of making the thoughts sincere, and that again by one on the completion of knowledge by the investigation of things, or whatever else the phrase ko wu may mean. I am less concerned for the loss and injury which this part of the Work has suffered, because the subject of the connexion between intelligence and virtue is very fully exhibited in the Doctrine of the Mean, and will come under our notice in the review of that Treatise. The manner in which Chu Hsi has endeavoured to supply the blank about the perfecting of knowledge by the investigation of things is too extravagant. 'The Learning for Adults,' he says, 'at the outset of its lessons, instructs the learner, in regard to all things in the world, to proceed from what knowledge he has of their principles, and pursue his investigation of them, till he reaches the extreme point. After exerting himself for a long time, he will suddenly find himself possessed of a wide and far-reaching penetration. Then, the qualities of all things, whether external or internal, the subtle or the coarse, will be apprehended, and the mind, in its entire substance and its relations to things, will be perfectly intelligent. This is called the investigation of things. This is called the perfection of knowledge [3].' And knowledge must be thus perfected before we can achieve the sincerity of our thoughts, and the rectifying of our hearts!

1 Comm. vi. 1. 2 Comm. vi. 2. 3 Suppl. to Comm. Ch. v.

Verily this would be learning not for adults only, but even Methuselahs would not be able to compass it. Yet for centuries this has been accepted as the orthodox exposition of the Classic. Lo Chung-fan does not express himself too strongly when he says that such language is altogether incoherent. The author would only be 'imposing on himself and others.' 9. The orthodox doctrine of China concerning the connexion between intelligence and virtue is most seriously erroneous, but I will not lay to the charge of the author of the Great Learning the wild representations of the commentator of our twelfth century, nor need I make here any remarks on what the doctrine really is. After the exhibition which I have given, my readers will probably conclude that the Work before us is far from developing, as Pauthier asserts, 'a system of social perfectionating which has never been equalled.' 10. The Treatise has undoubtedly great merits, but they are not to be sought in the severity of its logical processes, or the large-minded prosecution of any course of thought. We shall find them in the announcement of certain seminal principles, which, if recognised in government and the regulation of conduct, would conduce greatly to the happiness and virtue of mankind. I will conclude these observations by specifying four such principles. First. The writer conceives nobly of the object of government, that it is to make its subjects happy and good. This may not be a sufficient account of that object, but it is much to have it so clearly laid down to 'all kings and governors,' that they are to love the people, ruling not for their own gratification but for the good of those over whom they are exalted by Heaven. Very important also is the statement that rulers have no divine right but what springs from the discharge of their duty. 'The decree does not always rest on them. Goodness obtains it, and the want of goodness loses it [1].' Second. The insisting on personal excellence in all who have authority in the family, the state, and the kingdom, is a great moral and social principle. The influence of such personal excellence may be overstated, but by the requirement of its cultivation the writer deserved well of his country. Third. Still more important than the requirement of such excellence, is the principle that it must be rooted in the state of

1 Comm. x. 11.

the heart, and be the natural outgrowth of internal sincerity. 'As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.' This is the teaching alike of Solomon and the author of the Great Learning. Fourth. I mention last the striking exhibition which we have of the golden rule, though only in its negative form:— 'What a man dislikes in his superiors, let him not display in the treatment of his inferiors; what he dislikes in inferiors, let him not display in his service of his superiors; what he dislikes in those who are before him, let him not therewith precede those who are behind him; what he dislikes in those who are behind him, let him not therewith follow those who are before him; what he dislikes to receive on the right, let him not bestow on the left; what he dislikes to receive on the left, let him not bestow on the right. This is what is called the principle with which, as with a measuring square, to regulate one's conduct [1].' The Work which contains those principles cannot be thought meanly of. They are 'commonplace,' as the writer in the Chinese Repository calls them, but they are at the same time eternal verities.

l Comm. x. a.

CHAPTER IV.

THE DOCTRINE OF THE MEAN.

SECTION I. ITS PLACE IN THE LI CHI, AND ITS PUBLICATION SEPARATELY.

1. The Doctrine of the Mean was one of the treatises which came to light in connexion with the labors of Liu Hsiang, and its place as the thirty-first Book in the Li Chi was finally determined by Ma Yung and Chang Hsuan. In the translation of the Li Chi in 'The Sacred Books of the East' it is the twenty-eighth Treatise. 2. But while it was thus made to form a part of the great collection of Treatises on Ceremonies, it maintained a separate footing of its own. In Liu Hsin's Catalogue of the Classical Works, we find 'Two p'ien of Observations on the Chung Yung [l].' In the Records of the dynasty of Sui (A.D. 589-618), in the chapter on the History of Literature [2], there are mentioned three Works on the Chung Yung;— the first called 'The Record of the Chung Yung,' in two chuan, attributed to Tai Yung, a scholar who flourished about the middle of the fifth century; the second, 'A Paraphrase and Commentary on the Chung Yung,' attributed to the emperor Wu (A.D. 502-549) of the Liang dynasty, in one chuan ; and the third, 'A Private Record, Determining the Meaning of the Chung Yung,' in five chuan, the author, or supposed author, of which is not mentioned [3]. It thus appears, that the Chung Yung had been published and commented on separately, long before the time of the Sung dynasty. The scholars of that, however, devoted special attention to it, the way being led by the famous Chau Lien-ch'i [4]. He was followed by the two brothers Ch'ang, but neither of them published upon it. At last came Chu Hsi, who produced his Work called

1 中庸說二篇. 2 隋書,卷三十二,志第二十七,經籍,一, p. 12. 3 禮記中庸專,二卷,宋散騎常侍戴顒撰;中庸講疏,一卷,梁武帝撰;私記制旨中庸; 五卷. 4 周濂溪.

'The Chung Yung, in Chapters and Sentences [1],' which was made the text book of the Classic at the literary examinations, by the fourth emperor of the Yuan dynasty (A.D. 1312-1320), and from that time the name merely of the Treatise was retained in editions of the Li Chi. Neither text nor ancient commentary was given. Under the present dynasty it is not so. In the superb edition of 'The Three Li Ching,' edited by numerous committees of scholars towards the middle of the Ch'ien-lung reign, the Chung Yung is published in two parts, the ancient commentaries from 'The Thirteen Ching' being given side by side with those of Chu Hsi.

SECTION II.

ITS AUTHOR; AND SOME ACCOUNT OF HIM.

1. The composition of the Chung Yung is attributed to K'ung Chi, the grandson of Confucius [2]. Chinese inquirers and critics are agreed on this point, and apparently on sufficient grounds. There is indeed no internal evidence in the Work to lead us to such a conclusion. Among the many quotations of Confucius's words and references to him, we might have expected to find some indication that the sage was the grandfather of the author, but nothing of the kind is given. The external evidence, however, or that from the testimony of authorities, is very strong. In Sze-ma Ch'ien's Historical Records, published about B.C. 100, it is expressly said that 'Tsze-sze made the Chung Yung.' And we have a still stronger proof, a century earlier, from Tsze-sze's own descendant, K'ung Fu, whose words are, 'Tsze-sze compiled the Chung Yung in forty-nine p'ien [3].' We may, therefore, accept the received account without hesitation. 2. As Chi, spoken of chiefly by his designation of Tsze-sze, thus occupies a distinguished place in the classical literature of China, it

1 中庸章句. 2 子思作中庸; see the 史記,四十七,孔子世家. 3 This K'ung Fu (孔鮒) was that descendant of Confucius, who hid several books in the wall of his house, on the issuing of the imperial edict for their burning. He was a writer himself, and his Works are referred to under the title of 孔叢子. I have not seen them, but the statement given above is found in the 四書拓餘說;— art. 中庸. — 孔叢子云,子思撰中庸之書,四十九篇.

may not be out of place to bring together here a few notices of him gathered from reliable sources. He was the son of Li, whose death took place B.C. 483, four years before that of the sage, his father. I have not found it recorded in what year he was born. Sze-ma Ch'ien says he died at the age of 62. But this is evidently wrong, for we learn from Mencius that he was high in favour with the duke Mu of Lu [1], whose accession to that principality dates in B.C. 409, seventy years after the death of Confucius. In the 'Plates and Notices of the Worthies, sacrificed to in the Sage's Temples [2],' it is supposed that the sixty-two in the Historical Records should be eighty-two [3]. It is maintained by others that Tsze-sze's life was protracted beyond 100 years [4]. This variety of opinions simply shows that the point cannot be positively determined. To me it seems that the conjecture in the Sacrificial Canon must be pretty near the truth [5]. During the years of his boyhood, then, Tsze-sze must have been with his grandfather, and received his instructions. It is related, that one day, when he was alone with the sage, and heard him sighing, he went up to him, and, bowing twice, inquired the reason of his grief. 'Is it,' said he, 'because you think that your descendants, through not cultivating themselves, will be unworthy of you? Or is it that, in your admiration of the ways of Yao and Shun, you are vexed that you fall short of them?' 'Child,' replied Confucius, 'how is it that you know my thoughts?' 'I have often,' said Tsze-sze, 'heard from you the lesson, that when the father has gathered and prepared the firewood, if the son cannot carry the bundle, he is to be pronounced degenerate and unworthy. The remark comes frequently into my thoughts, and fills me with great apprehensions.' The sage was delighted. He

1. 魯穆(or 繆)公. 2. 聖廟祀典圖考. 3. 或以六十二似八十二之誤. Eighty-two and sixty-two may more easily be confounded, as written in Chinese, than with the Roman figures. 4 See the 四書集證, on the preface to the Chung Yung, — 年百餘歲卒. 5 Li himself was born in Confucius's twenty-first year, and if Tsze-sze had been born in Li's twenty-first year, he must have been 103 at the time of duke Mu's accession. But the tradition is, that Tsze-sze was a pupil of Tsang Shan who was born B.C. 504. We must place his birth therefore considerably later, and suppose him to have been quite young when his father died. I was talking once about the question with a Chinese friend, who observed:— 'Li was fifty when he died, and his wife married again into a family of Wei. We can hardly think, therefore, that she was anything like that age. Li could not have married so soon as his father did. Perhaps he was about forty when Chi was born.'

smiled and said, 'Now, indeed, shall I be without anxiety! My undertakings will not come to naught. They will be carried on and flourish [1].' After the death of Confucius, Chi became a pupil, it is said, of the philosopher Tsang. But he received his instructions with discrimination, and in one instance which is recorded in the Li Chi, the pupil suddenly took the place of the master. We there read: 'Tsang said to Tsze-sze, "Chi, when I was engaged in mourning for my parents, neither congee nor water entered my mouth for seven days." Tsze-sze answered, "In ordering their rules of propriety, it was the design of the ancient kings that those who would go beyond them should stoop and keep by them, and that those who could hardly reach them should stand on tiptoe to do so. Thus it is that the superior man, in mourning for his parents, when he has been three days without water or congee, takes a staff to enable himself to rise [2]."' While he thus condemned the severe discipline of Tsang, Tsze-sze appears, in various incidents which are related of him, to have been himself more than sufficiently ascetic. As he was living in great poverty, a friend supplied him with grain, which he readily received. Another friend was emboldened by this to send him a bottle of spirits, but he declined to receive it.' You receive your corn from other people,' urged the donor, 'and why should you decline my gift, which is of less value? You can assign no ground in reason for it, and if you wish to show your independence, you should do so completely.' 'I am so poor,' was the reply, 'as to be in want, and being afraid lest I should die and the sacrifices not be offered to my ancestors, I accept the grain as an alms. But the spirits and the dried flesh which you offer to me are the appliances of a feast. For a poor man to be feasting is certainly unreasonable. This is the ground of my refusing your gift. I have no thought of asserting my independence [3].' To the same effect is the account of Tsze-sze, which we have from Liu Hsiang. That scholar relates:— 'When Chi was living in Wei, he wore a tattered coat, without any lining, and in thirty days had only nine meals. T'ien Tsze-fang having heard of his

1 See the 四書集證, in the place just quoted from. For the incident we are indebted to K'ung Fu; see note 3, p. 36. 2 Li Chi, II. Sect. I. ii. 7. 3 See the 四書集證, as above.

distress, sent a messenger to him with a coat of fox-fur, and being afraid that he might not receive it, he added the message,— "When I borrow from a man, I forget it; when I give a thing, I part with it freely as if I threw it away." Tsze-sze declined the gift thus offered, and when Tsze-fang said, "I have, and you have not; why will you not take it?" he replied, "You give away as rashly as if you were casting your things into a ditch. Poor as I am, I cannot think of my body as a ditch, and do not presume to accept your gift [1]." 'Tsze-sze's mother married again, after Li's death, into a family of Wei. But this circumstance, which is not at all creditable in Chinese estimation, did not alienate his affections from her. He was in Lu when he heard of her death, and proceeded to weep in the temple of his family. A disciple came to him and said, 'Your mother married again into the family of the Shu, and do you weep for her in the temple of the K'ung?' 'I am wrong,' said Tsze-sze, 'I am wrong;' and with these words he went to weep elsewhere [2]. In his own married relation he does not seem to have been happy, and for some cause, which has not been transmitted to us, he divorced his wife, following in this, it has been wrongly said, the example of Confucius. On her death, her son, Tsze-shang [3], did not undertake any mourning for her. Tsze-sze's disciples were surprised and questioned him. 'Did your predecessor, a superior man,' they asked, 'mourn for his mother who had been divorced?' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'Then why do you not cause Pai [4] to mourn for his mother?' Tsze-sze answered, 'My progenitor, a superior man, failed in nothing to pursue the proper path. His observances increased or decreased as the case required. But I cannot attain to this. While she was my wife, she was Pai's mother; when she ceased to be my wife, she ceased to be Pai's mother.' The custom of the K'ung family not to mourn for a mother who had been divorced, took its rise from Tsze-sze [5]. These few notices of K'ung Chi in his more private relations bring him before us as a man of strong feeling and strong will, independent, and with a tendency to asceticism in his habits.

1 See the 四書集證, as above. 2 See the Li Chi, II. Sect. II. iii. 15. 庶氏之母死 must be understood as I have done above, and not with Chang Hsuan, — 'Your mother was born a Miss Shu.' 3 子上 — this was the designation of Tsze-sze's son. 4 白,— this was Tsze-shang's name. 5 See the Li Chi, II. Sect. I. i. 4.

As a public character, we find him at the ducal courts of Wei, Sung; Lu, and Pi, and at each of them held in high esteem by the rulers. To Wei he was carried probably by the fact of his mother having married into that State. We are told that the prince of Wei received him with great distinction and lodged him honourably. On one occasion he said to him, 'An officer of the State of Lu, you have not despised this small and narrow Wei, but have bent your steps hither to comfort and preserve it; vouchsafe to confer your benefits upon me.' Tsze-sze replied. 'If I should wish to requite your princely favour with money and silks, your treasuries are already full of them, and I am poor. If I should wish to requite it with good words, I am afraid that what I should say would not suit your ideas, so that I should speak in vain and not be listened to. The only way in which I can requite it, is by recommending to your notice men of worth.' The duke said. 'Men of worth are exactly what I desire.' 'Nay,' said Chi. 'you are not able to appreciate them.' 'Nevertheless,' was the reply, 'I should like to hear whom you consider deserving that name.' Tsze-sze replied, 'Do you wish to select your officers for the name they may have or for their reality?' 'For their reality, certainly,' said the duke. His guest then said, 'In the eastern borders of your State, there is one Li Yin, who is a man of real worth.' 'What were his grandfather and father?' asked the duke. 'They were husbandmen,' was the reply, on which the duke broke into a loud laugh, saying, ' I do not like husbandry. The son of a husbandman cannot be fit for me to employ. I do not put into office all the cadets of those families even in which office is hereditary.' Tsze-sze observed, 'I mention Li Yin because of his abilities; what has the fact of his forefathers being husbandmen to do with the case? And moreover, the duke of Chau was a great sage, and K'ang-shu was a great worthy. Yet if you examine their beginnings, you will find that from the business of husbandry they came forth to found their States. I did certainly have my doubts that in the selection of your officers you did not have regard to their real character and capacity.' With this the conversation ended. The duke was silent [1]. Tsze-sze was naturally led to Sung, as the K'ung family originally sprang from that principality. One account, quoted in 'The

1 See the 氏姓譜,卷一百二,孔氏,孔伋.

Four Books, Text and Commentary, with Proofs and Illustrations [1],' says that he went thither in his sixteenth year, and having foiled an officer of the State, named Yo So, in a conversation on the Shu Ching, his opponent was so irritated at the disgrace put on him by a youth, that he listened to the advice of evil counsellors, and made an attack on him to put him to death. The duke of Sung, hearing the tumult, hurried to the rescue, and when Chi found himself in safety, he said, 'When king Wan was imprisoned in Yu-li, he made the Yi of Chau. My grandfather made the Ch'un Ch'iu after he had been in danger in Ch'an and Ts'ai. Shall I not make something when rescued from such a risk in Sung?' Upon this he made the Chung Yung in forty-nine p'ien. According to this account, the Chung Yung was the work of Tsze-sze's early manhood, and the tradition has obtained a wonderful prevalence. The notice in 'The Sacrificial Canon' says, on the contrary, that it was the work of his old age, when he had finally settled in Lu, which is much more likely [2]. Of Tsze-sze in Pi, which could hardly be said to be out of Lu, we have only one short notice,— in Mencius, V. Pt. II. iii. 3, where the duke Hui of Pi is introduced as saying, 'I treat Tsze-sze as my master.' We have fuller accounts of him in Lu, where he spent all the latter years of his life, instructing his disciples to the number of several hundred [3], and held in great reverence by the duke Mu. The duke indeed wanted to raise him to the highest office, but he declined this, and would only occupy the position of a 'guide, philosopher, and friend.' Of the attention which he demanded, however, instances will he found in Mencius, II. Pt. II. xi. 3; V. Pt. II. vi. 4, and vii. 4. In his intercourse with the duke he spoke the truth to him fearlessly. In the 'Cyclopaedia of Surnames [4],' I find the following conversations, but I cannot tell from what source they are extracted into that Work.— 'One day, the duke said to Tsze-sze, "The officer Hsien told me that you do good without

1 This is the Work so often referred to as the 四書集證, the full title being 四書經註集證. The passage here translated from it will be found in the place several times referred to in this section. 2 The author of the 四書拓餘說 adopts the view that the Work was composed in Sung. Some have advocated this from ch. xxviii. 5, compared with Ana. III. ix, 'it being proper,' they say, 'that Tsze- sze, writing in Sung, should not depreciate it as Confucius had done out of it!' 3 See in the 'Sacrificial Canon,' on Tsze-sze. 4 This is the Work referred to in note 1, p. 40.

wishing for any praise from men;— is it so?" Tsze-sze replied, "No, that is not my feeling. When I cultivate what is good, I wish men to know it, for when they know it and praise me, I feel encouraged to be more zealous in the cultivation. This is what I desire, and am not able to obtain. If I cultivate what is good, and men do not know it, it is likely that in their ignorance they will speak evil of me. So by my good-doing I only come to be evil spoken of. This is what I do not desire, but am not able to avoid. In the case of a man, who gets up at cock-crowing to practise what is good and continues sedulous in the endeavour till midnight, and says at the same time that he does not wish men to know it, lest they should praise him, I must say of such a man, that, if he be not deceitful, he is stupid."' Another day, the duke asked Tsze-sze, saying, 'Can my state be made to flourish?' 'It may,' was the reply. 'And how?' Tsze-sze said, 'O prince, if you and your ministers will only strive to realize the government of the duke of Chau and of Po-ch'in; practising their transforming principles, sending forth wide the favours of your ducal house, and not letting advantages flow in private channels; if you will thus conciliate the affections of the people, and at the same time cultivate friendly relations with neighboring states, your state will soon begin to flourish.' On one occasion, the duke asked whether it had been the custom of old for ministers to go into mourning for a prince whose service and state they had left. Tsze-sze replied to him, 'Of old, princes advanced their ministers to office according to propriety, and dismissed them in the same way, and hence there was that rule. But now-a-days, princes bring their ministers forward as if they were going to take them on their knees, and send them away as if they would cast them into an abyss. If they do not treat them as their greatest enemies, it is well.— How can you expect the ancient practice to be observed in such circumstances [1]?' These instances may suffice to illustrate the character of Tsze-sze, as it was displayed in his intercourse with the princes of his time. We see the same independence which he affected in private life, and a dignity not unbecoming the grandson of Confucius. But we miss the reach of thought and capacity for administration which belonged to the Sage. It is with him, how-

1 This conversation is given in the Li Chi, II. Sect. II. Pt. ii, 1.

ever, as a thinker and writer that we have to do, and his rank in that capacity will appear from the examination of the Chung Yung in the section iv below. His place in the temples of the Sage has been that of one of his four assessors, since the year 1267. He ranks with Yen Hui, Tsang Shan, and Mencius, and bears the title of 'The Philosopher Tsze-sze, Transmitter of the Sage [1].'