OLD CONFUCIANISM IN THE NEW CHINA
"The whole Chinese people hold the doctrines of Confucius most sacred," declared President Yuan Shih-kai in his decree of November 26, 1913, which re-introduced much of the old state religion. He stopped a little short of giving Confucianism the character of an established religion, but ordered that the sacrificial rites and the biennial commemoration exercises be restored. "I am strongly convinced," he said, "of the importance of preserving the traditional beliefs of China." In this he was upheld by the Confucian Society at Peking, in the organization of which an American university graduate, Dr. Chen Huan-chang, was a leading spirit. Mr. Chen's doctoral dissertation had dealt with the economic principles of Confucius and his school; upon his return to China his aim had been to make Confucianism the state religion under the Republic.
The Christian missionaries were agitated. They felt it to be a step backward for the new republic to recognize any form of belief. Yuan, however, said: "It is rather the ethic and moral principles of Confucius, as a part of education, that the Government wishes to emphasize." As there is nothing mystical or theological about Confucianism, such a view is, indeed, quite tenable.
Yuan Shih-kai again declared toward the end of December: "I have decided to perform the worship of heaven on the day of the winter solstice."
This fell on the 23rd of December, and again excited discussion. "It means that Yuan is edging toward the assumption of the Imperial dignity," many said.
I had a talk about this matter with the Minister of the Interior, Mr. Chu Chi-chien, who was thoroughly informed concerning the details of Confucian worship and the worship of Heaven; he had, in fact, an inexhaustible fund of knowledge of Chinese traditions. Nevertheless, he was a man of action, planning cities, building roads, and developing industries. Comparatively young and entirely Chinese by education and character, he had supremely that knowledge of the personalities of Chinese politics which was necessary in his ministry. As a builder he became the Baron Haussmann of Peking, widening and paving the avenues, establishing parks, rearranging public places, in all of which he did marvels within his short term of two years. He established the National Museum of Peking, and converted a part of the Imperial City into a public park which has become a centre of civic life theretofore unknown in China. Mr. Chu's familiarity with religion, art, and architecture—he was a living encyclopædia of archæology and art—and his pleasure in reciting the history of some Chinese temple or palace did not free him from a modern temptation. He would try to import too many foreign elements in the improvements which he planned, so that foreign friends of Chinese art had to keep close to him to prevent the bringing in of incongruous Western forms which would have spoiled the marvellous harmony of this great city.
"It would be dangerous," Mr. Chu informed me, "for the republican government to neglect the worship of Heaven. The entire farm population observes the ceremonial relative to sowing, harvesting, and other rural occupations according to the old calendar. Should the worship of Heaven be omitted on the winter solstice day, now that the Government has become established; and should there follow a leanness or entire failure of crops, the Government would surely be held responsible by the farmers throughout the land."
"Of course," he added, smilingly, "the worship will not guarantee good crops, but at any rate it will relieve the Government of responsibility."
I could not but reflect that, even in our own democracy, administrations have been given credit and blame by reason of general prosperity or of the lack of it, and that good crops certainly do help the party in power.