CHAPTER III
THE FOUR BOOKS – MENCIUS
THE LUN YÜ
No Chinaman thinks of entering upon a study of the Five Classics until he has mastered and committed to memory a shorter and simpler course known as The Four Books.
The first of these, as generally arranged for students, is the Lun Yü or Analects, a work in twenty short chapters or books, retailing the views of Confucius on a variety of subjects, and expressed so far as possible in the very words of the Master. It tells us nearly all we really know about the Sage, and may possibly have been put together within a hundred years of his death. From its pages we seem to gather some idea, a mere silhouette perhaps, of the great moralist whose mission on earth was to teach duty towards one’s neighbour to his fellow-men, and who formulated the Golden Rule: “What you would not others should do unto you, do not unto them!”
It has been urged by many, who should know better, that the negative form of this maxim is unfit to rank with the positive form as given to us by Christ. But of course the two are logically identical, as may be shown by the simple insertion of the word “abstain;” that is, you would not that others should abstain from certain actions in regard to yourself, which practically conveys the positive injunction.
When a disciple asked Confucius to explain charity of heart, he replied simply, “Love one another.” When, however, he was asked concerning the principle that good should be returned for evil, as already enunciated by Lao Tzŭ (see ch. iv.), he replied, “What then will you return for good? No: return good for good; for evil, justice.”
He was never tired of emphasising the beauty and necessity of truth: “A man without truthfulness! I know not how that can be.”
“Let loyalty and truth be paramount with you.”
“In mourning, it is better to be sincere than punctilious.”
“Man is born to be upright. If he be not so, and yet live, he is lucky to have escaped.”
“Riches and honours are what men desire; yet except in accordance with right these may not be enjoyed.”
Confucius undoubtedly believed in a Power, unseen and eternal, whom he vaguely addressed as Heaven: “He who has offended against Heaven has none to whom he can pray.” “I do not murmur against Heaven,” and so on. His greatest commentator, however, Chu Hsi, has explained that by “Heaven” is meant “Abstract Right,” and that interpretation is accepted by Confucianists at the present day. At the same time, Confucius strongly objected to discuss the supernatural, and suggested that our duties are towards the living rather than towards the dead.
He laid the greatest stress upon filial piety, and taught that man is absolutely pure at birth, and afterwards becomes depraved only because of his environment.
Chapter x. of the Lun Yü gives some singular details of the every-day life and habits of the Sage, calculated to provoke a smile among those with whom reverence for Confucius has not been a first principle from the cradle upwards, but received with loving gravity by the Chinese people at large. The following are extracts (Legge’s translation) from this famous chapter: —
“Confucius, in his village, looked simple and sincere, and as if he were not able to speak. When he was in the prince’s ancestral temple or in the court, he spoke minutely on every point, but cautiously.
“When he entered the palace gate, he seemed to bend his body, as if it were not sufficient to admit him.
“He ascended the daïs, holding up his robe with both his hands and his body bent; holding in his breath also, as if he dared not breathe.
“When he was carrying the sceptre of his prince, he seemed to bend his body as if he were not able to bear its weight.
“He did not use a deep purple or a puce colour in the ornaments of his dress. Even in his undress he did not wear anything of a red or reddish colour.
“He required his sleeping dress to be half as long again as his body.
“He did not eat rice which had been injured by heat or damp and turned sour, nor fish or flesh which was gone. He did not eat what was discoloured, or what was of a bad flavour, nor anything which was not in season. He did not eat meat which was not cut properly, nor what was served without its proper sauce.
“He was never without ginger when he ate. He did not eat much.
“When eating, he did not converse. When in bed, he did not speak.
“Although his food might be coarse rice and vegetable soup, he would offer a little of it in sacrifice with a grave respectful air.
“If his mat was not straight, he did not sit on it.
“The stable being burned down when he was at Court, on his return he said, ‘Has any man been hurt?’ He did not ask about the horses.
“When a friend sent him a present, though it might be a carriage and horses, he did not bow. The only present for which he bowed was that of the flesh of sacrifice.
“In bed, he did not lie like a corpse. At home, he did not put on any formal deportment.
“When he saw any one in a mourning dress, though it might be an acquaintance, he would change countenance; when he saw any one wearing the cap of full dress, or a blind person, though he might be in his undress, he would salute them in a ceremonious manner.
“When he was at an entertainment where there was an abundance of provisions set before him, he would change countenance and rise up. On a sudden clap of thunder or a violent wind, he would change countenance.”
MENCIUS
Next in educational order follows the work briefly known as Mencius. This consists of seven books recording the sayings and doings of a man to whose genius and devotion may be traced the final triumph of Confucianism. Born in B.C. 372, a little over a hundred years after the death of the Master, Mencius was brought up under the care of his widowed mother, whose name is a household word even at the present day. As a child he lived with her at first near a cemetery, the result being that he began to reproduce in play the solemn scenes which were constantly enacted before his eyes. His mother accordingly removed to another house near the market-place, and before long the little boy forgot all about funerals and played at buying and selling goods. Once more his mother disapproved, and once more she changed her dwelling; this time to a house near a college, where he soon began to imitate the ceremonial observances in which the students were instructed, to the great joy and satisfaction of his mother.
Later on he studied under K’ung Chi, the grandson of Confucius; and after having attained to a perfect apprehension of the roms or Way of Confucius, became, at the age of about forty-five, Minister under Prince Hsüan of the Ch’i State. But the latter would not carry out his principles, and Mencius threw up his post. Thence he wandered away to several States, advising their rulers to the best of his ability, but making no very prolonged stay. He then visited Prince Hui of the Liang State, and abode there until the monarch’s death in B.C. 319. After that event he returned to the State of Ch’i and resumed his old position. In B.C. 311 he once more felt himself constrained to resign office, and retired finally into private life, occupying himself during the remainder of his days in teaching