Meadows remarks that every consistent Confucianist ought to be a blank atheist, though probably he is using the word in the sense that used erroneously to be attached to it a good many years ago,[291] when "atheist" was the term applied to all persons who were outside the Christian fold. In that sense Confucius was an atheist, and inasmuch as he lived half a millennium before Christ was born it is obvious that he could not possibly have been anything else. Mr. Arthur H. Smith states that the mass of Confucian scholars are "thoroughly agnostic and atheistic,"[292] though if these terms are correctly used it is difficult to see how they could be both at the same time. Mr. W. E. Griffis thinks it "more than probable" that Confucius laid "unnecessary emphasis upon social and political duties, and may not have been sufficiently interested in the honour to be paid to Shang Ti or God. He practically ignored the Godward side of men's duties."[293] Confucius would probably have said that if people fully and completely discharge all their duties on the manward side they need have no fear that they are neglecting the Godward side. Griffis goes on to compare Confucianism with a child-headed giant, because it is exaggerated on its moral and ceremonial side as compared with its spiritual development. It must surely be clear to an unprejudiced mind that Confucius deserves no blame whatever for omitting to lay down the law on subjects about which he never professed to know anything. Men have existed on this planet for tens of thousands of years: if, as many occidental peoples hold, the Deity revealed Himself only nineteen centuries ago, it is absurd to find fault with an honest philosopher for not having known facts which had been preserved as a secret in the archives of heaven for countless ages in the past and were to remain undisclosed for another five hundred years in the future. Some of us, perhaps, may be inclined to the opinion that the great secret remains a secret still. "We are born to enquire after truth," said the wise Montaigne; "it belongs to a greater power to possess it." But supposing for the sake of argument that Truth, or a certain aspect of Truth, came to man's knowledge by a miraculous act on the part of a Divine Power nineteen centuries ago, one cannot blame Confucius for not having obtained it from heaven five hundred years sooner. One might as well blame St. Paul for not anticipating the astronomical discoveries of Copernicus and Galileo, or St. Augustine for not telling us how to deal with the modern Women's Suffrage problem, or the Founder of Christianity Himself for not explaining the mechanism of motor-omnibuses and aeroplanes. Prometheus is said to have succeeded in wrenching a valuable secret from heaven without divine permission, but Prometheus was a Titan and Confucius never pretended to be anything more than a humble-minded man.
The remarks made both orally and in writing on the subject of Confucius and his religious views are often so framed as to convey the idea, either that he was somehow to blame for his want of knowledge, or that he really knew all the time about God and other spiritual beings, but was deliberately and wickedly keeping the knowledge up his sleeve. It is presumably for this reason that some missionaries have found it their painful duty to explain to the Chinese (whom they are trying to convert to a belief in a merciful and loving Deity) that Confucius is now writhing in hell.[294] It is open to them to add that good Chinese Christians may look forward to the happy day when they, from their heavenly mansions, may behold their national Sage undergoing the tortures prescribed for him in the nethermost regions: for was it not Tertullian who, perhaps in a spirit of irony or mockery, declared[295] that one of the joys of the blessed when they reach heaven will be to watch the torments of the damned?[296] Fortunately bigotry and intolerance of this kind are (thanks partly to secular pressure) rapidly disappearing from Christian apologetics, but the charge against Confucius that his views on spiritual matters were not only unsound but were also discreditable to himself and to those who followed his teachings, is still occasionally heard in the missionary camp.
It is perhaps worth while to consider briefly what those views were. They are not to be found in any consecutive form; all one can do is to pick up hints here and there and piece them together as best one may. It must be remembered that Confucius seems very rarely to have offered any remarks on spiritual matters on his own initiative: he did not profess to be an authority on such subjects, and it was only in answer to direct questions that he said anything at all. His attitude may be compared with that of Mohammed, who administered rebukes to his disciples when he heard them debating about fate and destiny. Such things, he taught, were beyond all human knowledge. If one might presume to construct a kind of paraphrase of Confucius's occasional utterances on spiritual subjects, and put it in the form of a continuous discourse, it might perhaps run somewhat as follows:
"You need not ask me about the gods and spirits or the world beyond the grave, because I really cannot tell you anything about them. You ask me what death is. I do not know. I think it will be time enough to consider the problems of death when we have solved those presented by life: and it will be a long time before we have done that.[297] You ask me about serving the dead. First make sure that you are doing everything possible in the service of living men, then you may consider, if you will, whether any changes should be made in our ancestral modes of serving the spirits of the dead. You ask if the departed have any knowledge of the sacrifices we offer them, or if they are totally unconscious of what we are doing for them. How can I answer you? If I were to tell you that the dead are conscious, you might waste your substance in funerals and sacrifices, and thus neglect the living to pay court to the dead. If on the other hand I were to tell you that the dead are unconscious, filial piety might diminish and sons begin to leave the bodies of their parents uncared for and unburied. Seek not to know whether the departed are indeed conscious. If they are, you will know it some day; meanwhile study the world you live in and have no fear that you will exhaust its treasures of knowledge: the world takes a lot of knowing. What is the use of my giving you my personal opinion about death and spiritual beings? You, or others less intelligent than you, might take my opinions as definite statements of truth, and if they happen to be erroneous opinions I might very properly be charged with the propagation of error. It is the custom of our race to offer sacrifices to the spirits of the dead and I consider this a good old custom and one that ought to be kept up, because even if there are no spirits to receive our homage the practice is in itself a harmless one and helps to foster reverence for one's elders and for those in authority. Therefore I say to you, carry out the solemn sacrifices to which you have been accustomed, and when you do so, honour the spirits as if they were present,[298] but do not be so foolish as to attempt familiar intercourse with them. It was not we who made the chasm that lies between ourselves and the spiritual world, nor have we any right (so far as we know) to try to bridge that chasm. God—if there be a God—knows why the chasm is there, and God can bridge it if He will.
"My advice to you is this. Be zealous in the services you owe to your fellow-men; behave towards them as you would wish them to behave towards yourself. Be not too proud to admit when you are wrong or that you 'do not know.' The man who sees what is right and honest and dares not do it is a craven. Do not repine if you are misunderstood by men; repine rather that there are men who are misunderstood by you. Choose as your familiar companions only those who are at least equal to yourself in virtue. Speak and act with sincerity and truth. Be true to yourself and charitable towards your neighbour. Carry out those rites of filial piety and of religious worship that have been handed down to you by your fathers, even if you have doubts about the nature or even the very existence of the objects of your worship; there is nothing to be ashamed of in honest doubt, but do not let doubts interfere with your duty. Let not your knowledge and practice of the traditional rituals mislead you into thinking that you are on intimate terms with the spiritual world; treat the unseen Powers with all reverence but keep aloof from them. Do not fear that God will hold you guilty of neglect of heavenly things provided you neglect nothing of the duties you owe to men."
It is true that several remarks of Confucius are on record which seem to indicate that he had a belief—however indefinite—in the existence of a God or at least of spiritual beings who were both greater and better than men. For instance he is said to have remarked that men had failed to understand him, adding proudly, "But there is Heaven: THAT knows me!" There is also the famous reply which he gave to Tzŭ-lu on the subject of prayer: "My praying," said Confucius, "has been for a long time."[299] Some English translators incline to the opinion that according to this remark Confucius really did offer up prayers to an unseen Power. What one knows of Confucius's life and teachings as well as the context of this particular passage makes this highly improbable; and indeed the remark loses most of its beauty and dignity if Confucius referred merely to prayers in the ordinary sense. As one of his English editors says, "his whole life had been one long prayer"[300]—in a sense that the narrow religious pedant perhaps does not and cannot understand. One is reminded of the landscape-painter who scandalised the pious natives of a beautiful Welsh village by painting on Sundays. "How is it," asked the local parson reproachfully, "that we have not yet seen you in God's house?" "I am not aware," was the artist's quiet reply, "that I was ever out of it." Those of us who can respect this answer will be able to respect that given by Confucius when he said, "My praying has been for a long time."
FOOTNOTES:
[251] It is perhaps still necessary to explain that in spite of the honorary epithets heaped on Confucius by imperial decree (as in the decree that confers upon him an "equality with heaven and earth"), Confucius is not worshipped as a god. This was frankly admitted by Prof. Legge in his later years. "I used to think," he said, "that Confucius in this service received religious worship, and denounced it. But I was wrong. What he received was the homage of gratitude, and not the worship of adoration." "The Religion of China" in Religious Systems of the World (8th ed.), p. 72.