[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.