The next point to be considered, is the style of our author. This is perhaps the most terse and concise ever employed. There is little, if any, grace or elegance about it: and most of the chapters seem to be merely notes or texts for philosophical discourses. They are composed of short and often enigmatical or paradoxical sentences—not in verse, as has been asserted[9]—and with a connexion either very slight or not at all perceptible. Much of the present obscurity may be due to the antiquity of the language and the uncertainty about the proper reading; but much is also due to the brief enigmatical manner in which the author has expressed himself. Many Chinese regard the style as profound and suggestive, and so, no doubt, it is; but we can never get at the bottom of the meaning, nor imagine all that is suggested.
Connected with the obscurity of the style, and indeed contributing largely towards it, is the nature of the topics discussed. The origin of the universe, and man’s place and destiny in it as an individual, a member of society, and a conscious part of nature, are subjects which in all ages and in all countries have puzzled the minds of thoughtful men, and it is of these and similar matters that Lao-tzŭ principally treats. Such subjects, even when discussed in a clear and plain style and with a rich language, are found to be difficult of elucidation; and how much more so must they be when discussed in short enigmatical sentences? Lao-tzŭ, like all other philosophers who live and write in the infancy of a literary language, had only a very imperfect medium through which to communicate his doctrines. The language of his time was rude and imperfect, utterly unfit to express the deep thoughts of a meditative mind, and hence it could at best but “half reveal and half conceal the soul within.”
The genuineness and sources of this book are also difficult of investigation, and it is perhaps impossible to ascertain the truth about them with any accuracy. As has been seen, a portion is ascribed to the semi-fabulous Emperor Hwang, and Lao-tzŭ is sometimes represented as merely transmitting this emperor’s doctrines. Chapter XXXI has been declared spurious, and a portion of Chapter XXVII is found first in Ho-shang-kung’s edition.[10] The beginning of the now famous Chapter XIV is very similar to the words ascribed to the predecessor of the Emperor Hwang, namely the Emperor Yen (炎), by the philosopher Chwang. Rémusat and Pauthier consider the main doctrines of the Tao-tê ching to be derived from Western sources. The former asks—Did Lao-tzŭ learn them from the Jews or from some oriental sect unknown to us?[11] But the illustrious savant was unable to give a satisfactory answer. The learned Pauthier thinks that Lao-tzŭ borrowed his doctrines either from the writings of some of the ancient Chinese sages or from some Indian philosophers.[12] In Ma-tuan-lin’s great work a short account is given of an ancient worthy named Yŭ-hsuing (鬻熊), who served the celebrated Wên-wang, and who must accordingly have flourished about B.C. 1150.[13] This man seems to have anticipated Lao-tzŭ in certain doctrines, but we have very little information about him, and what we have can scarcely be called reliable. Lao-tzŭ never alludes to a previous author; but there cannot be much doubt, I think, that he was well acquainted with the history and traditions of his country.
We may probably now understand the nature of the difficulties attending the reading and interpreting of the Tao-tê Ching, of which western writers have complained. Julien speaks of it as “cet ouvrage mémorable qu’on regarde avec raison comme le plus profond, le plus abstrait et le plus difficile de toute la littérature Chinoise.”[14] Rémusat and Pauthier have written in a similar manner, and the study of a few pages of the work will show how real are the difficulties of which they complain. But it is not to foreign students alone that these difficulties are perplexing; they are so to the native student also. Some of its editors are accused not only of not appreciating its spirit, but even of not understanding its language.
The number of those who have edited and commented on this work is very great, embracing Buddhists, Taoists, and Confucianists. The curious reader will find a list of many of these in the Observations Détachées prefixed to Julien’s translation. To this list many more names might be added, but it includes nearly all the useful and well known editions. It is only necessary here to enumerate a few of the more important and celebrated editions, and those which are apparently not mentioned by Julien and which have come under my notice.
1. The Tao-tê-ching-chu (道德經註) by Ho-shang-kung, or as Ma-tuan-lin names the book, Ho-Shang-Kung-Chu-Lao-tzŭ, may be regarded as the earliest edition of which we have now any exact information. This Ho-shang-kung lived in the second century B.C., during the reign of King Wen (文帝) of the Han dynasty. He derived his name from his living as a studious hermit on the bank of a river in a grass-made hut, and neither his original name nor anything else scarcely is known of him, though Julien calls him “Lo-chin-kong.” To him, as has been seen, is ascribed division of Lao-tzŭ’s book into eighty-one chapters, as also the addition of the two-word heading of each chapter. The original work is said to have been long since lost, and professed reprints are now generally regarded as spurious. Many modern editions, however, present what they designate Ho-shang-kung’s text, and Julien seems to regard himself as possessing the genuine commentary. The edition of the Tao-tê Ching, which forms the first volume in the Shĕ-tzŭ-chʽuan-shu (十字全書) published during the reign of Chia-Chʽing of the present dynasty, professes to give Ho-shang-kung’s text, revised by two scholars of the Ming dynasty. Later editors are divided in their opinions of the merits of the recluse’s commentary and arrangement of the text. Some regard the commentary as a fair exponent of Lao-tzŭ’s teachings, while others—and these I think the majority—regard it as very bad and evincing an ignorance of the author’s meaning. The text which is ascribed to him seems to be freer from obscurities than that of some later editions, but he is accused of having taken great liberties with the words of the original.
2. The edition of Wang-Pi (王弼). This man was the author of the Lao-tzu-liao-lun (老子略論), according to Chʽao. He was a native of Shan-yang (山陽) in the time of the Chin dynasty, which reigned over China in the third and fourth centuries of our era.[15] His style was Szu-fu (嗣輔), and he was an early and devoted student of Lao-tzŭ. Besides this, and that he wrote a commentary on the Tao-tê chin, and one on the Yi-ching, and died at the early age of twenty-four, much regretted by his sovereign, we know little about Wang-Pi. The text which he gives in his edition is very good, and his notes are very brief. They are, however, in some cases almost as difficult to comprehend as the passages they are intended to explain; though their author is regarded by many as a better student of Lao-tzŭ than Ho-shang-kung, and Mr. Wylie says that his commentary is “generally esteemed for its depth of thought and chasteness of diction.”[16] He also divided the work into eighty-one chapters. In the 40th year of Chʽien-lung, or in 1775, a revised edition of this work was printed in the palace, under the care of three mandarins, who have written a neat little preface to the book. This edition is valuable as giving the variations of Wang-Pi’s notes which appeared in the great Encyclopedia known as Yung-lo-ta-tien (永樂大典).
3. The Tao-tê-ching-shi-yi (道德經釋義). This was the work of Lü-yen (呂嵒), better known as Lü-Tʽung-pʽin or Lü-tsu, a famous Taoist of the Tʽang dynasty. His commentary is very diffuse, and does not tend very much to give a clear conception of Lao-tzŭ’s views. Many Chinese scholars, however, believe that the genuine work is not extant, and that all the editions purporting to be from his pen are spurious. Lü-yen was also the editor of a Taoist book written by a celebrated individual of the Han dynasty, and he was the author of a number of original pieces. He was promoted to the rank of a Genius, and he is enrolled as one of the Pa-hsien (八仙) or Eight Genii, under the style Shun-yang-chên-jen (純楊眞人); and in the 29th year of Kʽang-hsi, Mou-Mu-yuen (牟目源) published an edition of the Tao-tê Ching purporting to be a revised edition of this man’s work. It is a very useful book, giving in addition to the commentary a list of various readings, the sounds of the rare or doubtful characters, and other valuable information. This is the edition, apparently, to which Julien refers as a work “publiée en 1690 par Chun-yang-tchin-jin qui renferme toutes les rêveries des Tao-sse modernes.”[17] I cannot understand, however, how a sinologue of M. Julien’s erudition could mistake the date of the famous Lü-Tʽung-pin or forget that he was identical with Shun-yang-chên-jen, A new edition of Mou-Mu-yuen’s book was published in the 14th year of Chia-chʽing (1809) by Tsou-Hsü-kʽun (鄒學鯤).
4. The edition with notes by Su-Che (蘇轍), a relation of the famous poet and author of the Sung dynasty, named Su also. Che, or as he is also called Tsŭ-yu, seems to have been an eclectic philosopher, and he has incurred severe censure from rigid Confucianists for daring to presume that the doctrines of Shâkyamuni and Lao-tzŭ could resemble those of their Master. His commentary is written in a liberal and generous spirit, and shews, besides, a considerable amount of reading, much in advance of ordinary Chinese authors.
5. Another edition of the Tao-tê Ching, published during the Sung dynasty, was that of Lü-Tung-lai (呂東萊) or Tsu-chʽien (祖謙), also known as Pei-kung (伯恭). He was a very learned Confucianist, and wrote, along with other works, an excellent commentary on the Chʽun-chʽiu (春秋) of Confucius.