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  THE WISDOM
  OF CONFUCIUS




  The Wisdom
  of Confucius

  with critical and biographical sketches by
  EPIPHANIUS WILSON, A.M.

  _Art Type Edition_

  _THE WORLD'S POPULAR CLASSICS_

  Books, Inc.
  NEW YORK




  COPYRIGHT, 1900
  BY THE COLONIAL PRESS

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




CONTENTS


THE WISDOM OF CONFUCIUS

                                                                  PAGE

  Introduction                                                       3

  BOOK
      I. On Learning--Miscellaneous Sayings                          8
     II. Good Government--Filial Piety--The Superior Man            12
    III. Abuse of Proprieties in Ceremonial and Music               16
     IV. Social Virtue--Superior and Inferior Man                   22
      V. A Disciple and the Golden Rule--Miscellaneous              25
     VI. More Characteristics--Wisdom--Philanthropy                 31
    VII. Characteristics of Confucius--An Incident                  36
   VIII. Sayings of Tsang--Sentences of the Master                  42
     IX. His Favorite Disciple's Opinion of Him                     46
      X. Confucius in Private and Official Life                     51
     XI. Comparative Worth of His Disciples                         56
    XII. The Master's Answers--Philanthropy--Friendships            62
   XIII. Answers on the Art of Governing--Consistency               68
    XIV. Good and Bad Government--Miscellaneous Sayings             75
     XV. Practical Wisdom--Reciprocity the Rule of Life             83
    XVI. Against Intestine Strife--Good and Bad Friendships         88
   XVII. The Master Induced to Take Office--Nature and Habit        93
  XVIII. Good Men in Seclusion--Duke of Chow to His Son             99
    XIX. Teachings of Various Chief Disciples                      103
     XX. Extracts from the Book of History                         108


  THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS

  Introduction                                                     113

  BOOK I. King Hwuy of Lëang.
      Part I                                                       115
  [_Books II, III, and IV are omitted_]

  BOOK V. Wan Chang.
      Part I                                                       128


  THE SHI-KING

  Introduction                                                     143

  _Part I. Lessons from the States._

  BOOK I. THE ODES OF CHOW AND THE SOUTH.
      Celebrating the Virtue of King Wan's Bride                   145
      Celebrating the Industry of King Wan's Queen                 146
      In Praise of a Bride                                         146
      Celebrating T‘ae-Sze's Freedom from Jealousy               147
      The Fruitfulness of the Locust                               147
      Lamenting the Absence of a Cherished Friend                  148
      Celebrating the Goodness of the Descendants of King Wan      149
      The Virtuous Manners of the Young Women                      149
      Praise of a Rabbit-Catcher                                   150
      The Song of the Plantain-Gatherers                           151
      The Affection of the Wives on the Joo                        151

  BOOK II. THE ODES OF SHAOU AND THE SOUTH.
      The Marriage of a Princess                                   152
      The Industry and Reverence of a Prince's Wife                152
      The Wife of Some Great Officer Bewails his Absence           153
      The Diligence of the Young Wife of an Officer                154
      The Love of the People for the Duke of Shaou                 154
      The Easy Dignity of the Officers at Some Court               155
      Anxiety of a Young Lady to Get Married                       155

  BOOK III. THE ODES OF P‘EI.
      An Officer Bewails the Neglect with which He is Treated      157
      A Wife Deplores the Absence of Her Husband                   158
      The Plaint of a Rejected Wife                                159
      Soldiers of Wei Bewail Separation from their Families        161
      An Officer Tells of His Mean Employment                      161
      An Officer Sets Forth His Hard Lot                           162
      The Complaint of a Neglected Wife                            163
      In Praise of a Maiden                                        164
      Discontent                                                   164
      Chwang Keang Bemoans Her Husband's Cruelty                   165

  [_Books IV, V, and VI are omitted_]

  BOOK VII. THE ODES OF CH‘ING.
      The People's Admiration for Duke Woo                         167
      A Wife Consoled by Her Husband's Arrival                     168
      In Praise of Some Lady                                       168
      A Man's Praise of His Wife                                   169
      An Entreaty                                                  169
      A Woman Scorning Her Lover                                   169
      A Lady Mourns the Absence of Her Student Lover               170

  BOOK VIII. THE ODES OF TS‘E.
      A Wife Urging Her Husband to Action                          171
      The Folly of Useless Effort                                  172
      The Prince of Loo                                            172

  BOOK IX. THE ODES OF WEI.
      On the Misgovernment of the State                            174
      The Mean Husband                                             175
      A Young Soldier on Service                                   175

  BOOK X. THE ODES OF T‘ANG.
      The King Goes to War                                         177
      Lament of a Bereaved Person                                  178
      The Drawbacks of Poverty                                     179
      A Wife Mourns for Her Husband                                179

  BOOK XI. THE ODES OF TS‘IN.
      Celebrating the Opulence of the Lords of Ts‘in             181
      A Complaint                                                  182
      A Wife's Grief Because of Her Husband's Absence              182
      Lament for Three Brothers                                    183
      In Praise of a Ruler of Ts‘in                              184
      The Generous Nephew                                          185

  BOOK XII. THE ODES OF CH‘IN.
      The Contentment of a Poor Recluse                            186
      The Disappointed Lover                                       186
      A Love-Song                                                  187
      The Lament of a Lover                                        187

  BOOK XIII. THE ODES OF KWEI.
      The Wish of an Unhappy Man                                   189

  BOOK XIV. THE ODES OF TS‘AOU.
      Against Frivolous Pursuits                                   190

  BOOK XV. THE ODES OF PIN.
      The Duke of Chow Tells of His Soldiers                       191
      There is a Proper Way for Doing Everything                   192

  _Part II. Minor Odes of the Kingdom._

  BOOK I. DECADE OF LUH MING.
      A Festal Ode                                                 194
      A Festal Ode Complimenting an Officer                        195
      The Value of Friendship                                      196
      The Response to a Festal Ode                                 198
      An Ode of Congratulation                                     199
      An Ode on the Return of the Troops                           200

  BOOK II. THE DECADE OF PIH HWA.
      An Ode Appropriate to a Festivity                            203

  BOOK III. THE DECADE OF T‘UNG KUNG.
      Celebrating a Hunting Expedition                             204
      The King's Anxiety for His Morning Levee                     205
      Moral Lessons from Natural Facts                             206

  BOOK IV. THE DECADE OF K‘E-FOO.
      On the Completion of a Royal Palace                          207
      The Condition of King Seuen's Flocks                         208

  BOOK V. THE DECADE OF SEAOU MIN.
      A Eunuch Complains of His Fate                               210
      An Officer Deplores the Misery of the Time                   212
      On the Alienation of a Friend                                213

  BOOK VI. THE DECADE OF PIH SHAN.
      A Picture of Husbandry                                       215
      The Complaint of an Officer                                  216

  BOOK VII. DECADE OF SANG HOO.
      The Rejoicings of a Bridegroom                               219
      Against Listening to Slanderers                              220
  BOOK VIII. THE DECADE OF TOO JIN SZE.
      In Praise of By-gone Simplicity                              221
      A Wife Bemoans Her Husband's Absence                         222
      The Earl of Shaou's Work                                     223
      The Plaint of King Yew's Forsaken Wife                       224
      Hospitality                                                  226
      On the Misery of Soldiers                                    226

  _Part III. Greater Odes of the Kingdom._

  BOOK I. DECADE OF KING WAN.
      Celebrating King Wan                                         228

  [_Book II is omitted_]

  BOOK III. DECADE OF TANG.
      King Seuen on the Occasion of a Great Drought                231

  _Part IV. Odes of the Temple and Altar._

  BOOK I. SACRIFICIAL ODES OF CHOW.
  Appropriate to a Sacrifice to King Wan                           235
  On Sacrificing to the Kings Woo, Ching, and K‘ang              236




  THE WISDOM
  OF CONFUCIUS

  [_Translated into English by William Jennings_]




PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES


     _j_, as in French.

     _ng_, commencing a word, like the same letters terminating one.

     _ai_ or _ei_, as in _aisle_ or _eider_.

     _au_, as in German, or like _ow_ in _cow_.

     _é_, as in _fête_.

     _i_ (not followed by a consonant), as _ee_ in _see_.

     _u_ (followed by a consonant), as in _bull_.

     _iu_, as _ew_ in _new_.

     _úi_, as _ooi_ in _cooing_.

     _h_ at the end of a name makes the preceding vowel short.

     ‘ in the middle of a word denotes an aspirate (h), as _K‘ung_
     = _Khung_.




INTRODUCTION


The strangest figure that meets us in the annals of Oriental thought is
that of Confucius. To the popular mind he is the founder of a religion,
and yet he has nothing in common with the great religious teachers of
the East. We think of Siddartha, the founder of Buddhism, as the very
impersonation of romantic asceticism, enthusiastic self-sacrifice, and
faith in the things that are invisible. Zoroaster is the friend of God,
talking face to face with the Almighty, and drinking wisdom and
knowledge from the lips of Omniscience. Mohammed is represented as
snatched up into heaven, where he receives the Divine communication
which he is bidden to propagate with fire and sword throughout the
world. These great teachers lived in an atmosphere of the supernatural.
They spoke with the authority of inspired prophets. They brought the
unseen world close to the minds of their disciples. They spoke
positively of immortality, of reward or punishment beyond the grave. The
present life they despised, the future was to them everything in its
promised satisfaction. The teachings of Confucius were of a very
different sort. Throughout his whole writings he has not even mentioned
the name of God. He declined to discuss the question of immortality.
When he was asked about spiritual beings, he remarked, "If we cannot
even know men, how can we know spirits?"

Yet this was the man the impress of whose teaching has formed the
national character of five hundred millions of people. A temple to
Confucius stands to this day in every town and village of China. His
precepts are committed to memory by every child from the tenderest
age, and each year at the royal university at Pekin the Emperor holds
a festival in honor of the illustrious teacher.

The influence of Confucius springs, first of all, from the narrowness
and definiteness of his doctrine. He was no transcendentalist, and
never meddled with supramundane things. His teaching was of the earth,
earthy; it dealt entirely with the common relations of life, and the
Golden Rule he must necessarily have stumbled upon, as the most
obvious canon of his system. He strikes us as being the great Stoic of
the East, for he believed that virtue was based on knowledge,
knowledge of a man's own heart, and knowledge of human-kind. There is
a pathetic resemblance between the accounts given of the death of
Confucius and the death of Zeno. Both died almost without warning in
dreary hopelessness, without the ministrations of either love or
religion. This may be a mere coincidence, but the lives and teachings
of both men must have led them to look with indifference upon such an
end. For Confucius in his teaching treated only of man's life on
earth, and seems to have had no ideas with regard to the human lot
after death; if he had any ideas he preserved an inscrutable silence
about them. As a moralist he prescribed the duties of the king and of
the father, and advocated the cultivation by the individual man of
that rest or apathy of mind which resembles so much the disposition
aimed at by the Greek and Roman Stoic. Even as a moralist, he seems to
have sacrificed the ideal to the practical, and his loose notions
about marriage, his tolerance of concubinage, the slight emphasis
which he lays on the virtue of veracity--of which indeed he does not
seem himself to have been particularly studious in his historic
writings--place him low down in the rank of moralists. Yet he taught
what he felt the people could receive, and the flat mediocrity of his
character and his teachings has been stamped forever upon a people
who, while they are kindly, gentle, forbearing, and full of family
piety, are palpably lacking not only in the exaltation of Mysticism,
but in any religious feeling, generally so-called.

The second reason that made the teaching of Confucius so influential
is based on the circumstances of the time. When this thoughtful,
earnest youth awoke to the consciousness of life about him, he saw
that the abuses under which the people groaned sprang from the feudal
system, which cut up the country into separate territories, over which
the power of the king had no control. China was in the position of
France in the years preceding Philippe-Auguste, excepting that there
were no places of sanctuary and no Truce of God. The great doctrine of
Confucius was the unlimited despotism of the Emperor, and his moral
precepts were intended to teach the Emperor how to use his power
aright. But the Emperor was only typical of all those in
authority--the feudal duke, the judge on the bench, and the father of
the family. Each could discharge his duties aright only by submitting
to the moral discipline which Confucius prescribed. A vital element in
this system is its conservatism, its adherence to the imperial idea.
As James I said, "No bishop, no king," so the imperialists of China
have found in Confucianism the strongest basis for the throne, and
have supported its dissemination accordingly.

The Analects of Confucius contain the gist of his teachings, and is
worthy of study. We find in this work most of the precepts which his
disciples have preserved and recorded. They form a code remarkable for
simplicity, even crudity, and we are compelled to admire the force of
character, the practical sagacity, the insight into the needs of the
hour, which enabled Confucius, without claiming any Divine sanction,
to impose this system upon his countrymen.

The name Confucius is only the Latinized form of two words which mean
"Master K‘ung." He was born 551 B.C., his father being governor of
Shantung. He was married at nineteen, and seems to have occupied some
minor position under the government. In his twenty-fourth year he
entered upon the three years' mourning for the death of his mother.
His seclusion gave him time for deep thought and the study of history,
and he resolved upon the regeneration of his unhappy country. By the
time he was thirty he became known as a great teacher, and disciples
flocked to him. But he was yet occupied in public duties, and rose
through successive stages to the office of Chief Judge in his own
country of Lu. His tenure of office is said to have put an end to
crime, and he became the "idol of the people" in his district. The
jealousy of the feudal lords was roused by his fame as a moral teacher
and a blameless judge. Confucius was driven from his home, and
wandered about, with a few disciples, until his sixty-ninth year, when
he returned to Lu, after accomplishing a work which has borne fruit,
such as it is, to the present day. He spent the remaining five years
of his life in editing the odes and historic monuments in which the
glories of the ancient Chinese dynasty are set forth. He died in his
seventy-third year, 478 B.C. There can be no doubt that the success of
Confucius has been singularly great, owing especially to the narrow
scope of his scheme, which has become crystallized in the habits,
usages, and customs of the people. Especially has it been instrumental
in consolidating the empire, and in strengthening the power of the
monarch, who, as he every year burns incense in the red-walled temple
at Pekin, utters sincerely the invocation: "Great art thou, O perfect
Sage! Thy virtue is full, thy doctrine complete. Among mortal men
there has not been thine equal. All kings honor thee. Thy statutes and
laws have come gloriously down. Thou art the pattern in this imperial
school. Reverently have the sacrificial vessels been set out. Full of
awe, we sound our drums and bells."

                                                               E. W.




BOOK I

_On Learning--Miscellaneous Sayings_


"To learn," said the Master, "and then to practise opportunely what
one has learnt--does not this bring with it a sense of satisfaction?

"To have associates in study coming to one from distant parts--does
not this also mean pleasure in store?

"And are not those who, while not comprehending all that is said,
still remain not unpleased to hear, men of the superior order?"

A saying of the Scholar Yu:--

"It is rarely the case that those who act the part of true men in
regard to their duty to parents and elder brothers are at the same
time willing to turn currishly upon their superiors: it has never yet
been the case that such as desire not to commit that offence have been
men willing to promote anarchy or disorder.

"Men of superior mind busy themselves first in getting at the root of
things; and when they have succeeded in this the right course is open
to them. Well, are not filial piety and friendly subordination among
brothers a root of that right feeling which is owing generally from
man to man?"

The Master observed, "Rarely do we meet with the right feeling due
from one man to another where there is fine speech and studied mien."

The Scholar Tsang once said of himself: "On three points I examine
myself daily, viz., whether, in looking after other people's
interests, I have not been acting whole-heartedly; whether, in my
intercourse with friends, I have not been true; and whether, after
teaching, I have not myself been practising what I have taught."

The Master once observed that to rule well one of the larger States
meant strict attention to its affairs and conscientiousness on the
part of the ruler; careful husbanding of its resources, with at the
same time a tender care for the interests of all classes; and the
employing of the masses in the public service at suitable seasons.

"Let young people," said he, "show filial piety at home,
respectfulness towards their elders when away from home; let them be
circumspect, be truthful; their love going out freely towards all,
cultivating good-will to men. And if, in such a walk, there be time or
energy left for other things, let them employ it in the acquisition of
literary or artistic accomplishments."

The disciple Tsz-hiá said, "The appreciation of worth in men of worth,
thus diverting the mind from lascivious desires--ministering to
parents while one is the most capable of so doing--serving one's ruler
when one is able to devote himself entirely to that object--being
sincere in one's language in intercourse with friends: this I
certainly must call evidence of learning, though others may say there
has been 'no learning.'"

Sayings of the Master:--

"If the great man be not grave, he will not be revered, neither can
his learning be solid.

"Give prominent place to loyalty and sincerity.

"Have no associates in study who are not advanced somewhat like
yourself.

"When you have erred, be not afraid to correct yourself."

A saying of the Scholar Tsang:--

"The virtue of the people is renewed and enriched when attention is
seen to be paid to the departed, and the remembrance of distant
ancestors kept and cherished."

Tsz-k‘in put this query to his fellow disciple Tsz-kung: said he,
"When our Master comes to this or that State, he learns without fail
how it is being governed. Does he investigate matters? or are the
facts given him?"

Tsz-kung answered, "Our Master is a man of pleasant manners, and of
probity, courteous, moderate, and unassuming: it is by his being such
that he arrives at the facts. Is not his way of arriving at things
different from that of others?"

A saying of the Master:--

"He who, after three years' observation of the will of his father when
alive, or of his past conduct if dead, does not deviate from that
father's ways, is entitled to be called 'a dutiful son.'"

Sayings of the Scholar Yu:--

"For the practice of the Rules of Propriety,[1] one excellent way is
to be natural. This naturalness became a great grace in the practice
of kings of former times; let everyone, small or great, follow their
example.

"It is not, however, always practicable; and it is not so in the case
of a person who does things naturally, knowing that he should act so,
and yet who neglects to regulate his acts according to the Rules.

"When truth and right are hand in hand, a statement will bear
repetition. When respectfulness and propriety go hand in hand,
disgrace and shame are kept afar-off. Remove all occasion for
alienating those to whom you are bound by close ties, and you have
them still to resort to."

A saying of the Master:--

"The man of greater mind who, when he is eating, craves not to eat to
the full; who has a home, but craves not for comforts in it; who is
active and earnest in his work and careful in his words; who makes
towards men of high principle, and so maintains his own
rectitude--that man may be styled a devoted student."

Tsz-kung asked, "What say you, sir, of the poor who do not cringe and
fawn; and what of the rich who are without pride and haughtiness?" "They
are passable," the Master replied; "yet they are scarcely in the same
category as the poor who are happy, and the rich who love propriety."

"In the 'Book of the Odes,'" Tsz-kung went on to say, "we read of one

    Polished, as by the knife and file,
    The graving-tool, the smoothing-stone.

Does that coincide with your remark?"

"Ah! such as you," replied the Master, "may well commence a discussion
on the Odes. If one tell you how a thing goes, you know what ought to
come."

"It does not greatly concern me," said the Master, "that men do not
know me; my great concern is, my not knowing them."

[Footnote 1: An important part of a Chinaman's education still. The
text-book, "The Li Ki," contains rules for behavior and propriety for
the whole life, from the cradle to the grave.]




BOOK II

_Good Government--Filial Piety--The Superior Man_


Sayings of the Master:--

"Let a ruler base his government upon virtuous principles, and he will
be like the pole-star, which remains steadfast in its place, while all
the host of stars turn towards it.

"The 'Book of Odes' contains three hundred pieces, but one expression
in it may be taken as covering the purport of all, viz., Unswerving
mindfulness.

"To govern simply by statute, and to reduce all to order by means of
pains and penalties, is to render the people evasive, and devoid of
any sense of shame.

"To govern upon principles of virtue, and to reduce them to order by
the Rules of Propriety, would not only create in them the sense of
shame, but would moreover reach them in all their errors.

"When I attained the age of fifteen, I became bent upon study. At
thirty, I was a confirmed student. At forty, nought could move me from
my course. At fifty, I comprehended the will and decrees of Heaven. At
sixty, my ears were attuned to them. At seventy, I could follow my
heart's desires, without overstepping the lines of rectitude."

To a question of Mang-i, as to what filial piety consisted in, the
Master replied, "In not being perverse." Afterwards, when Fan Ch‘i
was driving him, the Master informed him of this question and answer,
and Fan Ch‘i asked, "What was your meaning?" The Master replied, "I
meant that the Rules of Propriety should always be adhered to in
regard to those who brought us into the world: in ministering to them
while living, in burying them when dead, and afterwards in the
offering to them of sacrificial gifts."

To a query of Mang Wu respecting filial piety, the Master replied,
"Parents ought to bear but one trouble--that of their own sickness."

To a like question put by Tsz-yu, his reply was this: "The filial
piety of the present day simply means the being able to support one's
parents--which extends even to the case of dogs and horses, all of
which may have something to give in the way of support. If there be no
reverential feeling in the matter, what is there to distinguish
between the cases?"

To a like question of Tsz-hiá, he replied: "The manner is the
difficulty. If, in the case of work to be done, the younger folks
simply take upon themselves the toil of it; or if, in the matter of
meat and drink, they simply set these before their elders--is this to
be taken as filial piety?"

Once the Master remarked, "I have conversed with Hwúi the whole day
long, and he has controverted nothing that I have said, as if he were
without wits. But when his back was turned, and I looked attentively
at his conduct apart from me, I found it satisfactory in all its
issues. No, indeed! Hwúi is not without his wits."

Other observations of the Master:--

"If you observe what things people (usually) take in hand, watch their
motives, and note particularly what it is that gives them
satisfaction, shall they be able to conceal from you what they are?
Conceal themselves, indeed!

"Be versed in ancient lore, and familiarize yourself with the modern;
then may you become teachers.

"The great man is not a mere receptacle."

In reply to Tsz-kung respecting the great man:---

"What he first says, as a result of his experience, he afterwards
follows up.

"The great man is catholic-minded, and not one-sided. The common man
is the reverse.

"Learning, without thought, is a snare; thought, without learning, is
a danger.

"Where the mind is set much upon heterodox principles--there truly and
indeed is harm."

To the disciple of Tsz-lu the Master said, "Shall I give you a lesson
about knowledge? When you know a thing, maintain that you know it; and
when you do not, acknowledge your ignorance. This is characteristic of
knowledge."

Tsz-chang was studying with an eye to official income. The Master
addressed him thus: "Of the many things you hear hold aloof from those
that are doubtful, and speak guardedly with reference to the rest;
your mistakes will then be few. Also, of the many courses you see
adopted, hold aloof from those that are risky, and carefully follow
the others; you will then seldom have occasion for regret. Thus, being
seldom mistaken in your utterances, and having few occasions for
regret in the line you take, you are on the high road to your
preferment."

To a question put to him by Duke Ngai[2] as to what should be done in
order to render the people submissive to authority, Confucius replied,
"Promote the straightforward, and reject those whose courses are
crooked, and the thing will be effected. Promote the crooked and
reject the straightforward, and the effect will be the reverse."

When Ki K‘ang[3] asked of him how the people could be induced to
show respect, loyalty, and willingness to be led, the Master answered,
"Let there be grave dignity in him who has the oversight of them, and
they will show him respect; let him be seen to be good to his own
parents, and kindly in disposition, and they will be loyal to him;
let him promote those who have ability, and see to the instruction of
those who have it not, and they will be willing to be led."

Some one, speaking to Confucius, inquired, "Why, sir, are you not an
administrator of government?" The Master rejoined, "What says the
'Book of the Annals,' with reference to filial duty?--'Make it a point
to be dutiful to your parents and amicable with your brethren; the
same duties extend to an administrator.' If these, then, also make an
administrator, how am I to take your words about being an administrator?"

On one occasion the Master remarked, "I know not what men are good
for, on whose word no reliance can be placed. How should your
carriages, large or little, get along without your whipple-trees or
swing-trees?"

Tsz-chang asked if it were possible to forecast the state of the
country ten generations hence. The Master replied in this manner: "The
Yin dynasty adopted the rules and manners of the Hiá line of kings,
and it is possible to tell whether it retrograded or advanced. The
Chow line has followed the Yin, adopting its ways, and whether there
has been deterioration or improvement may also be determined. Some
other line may take up in turn those of Chow; and supposing even this
process to go on for a hundred generations, the result may be known."

Other sayings of the Master:--

"It is but flattery to make sacrificial offerings to departed spirits
not belonging to one's own family.

"It is moral cowardice to leave undone what one perceives to be right
to do."

[Footnote 2: Of Lu (Confucius's native State).]

[Footnote 3: Head of one of the "Three Families" of Lu.]




BOOK III

_Abuse of Proprieties in Ceremonial and Music_


Alluding to the head of the Ki family,[4] and the eight lines of
posturers[5] before their ancestral hall, Confucius remarked, "If the
Ki can allow himself to go to this extent, to what extent will he not
allow himself to go?"

The Three Families[6] were in the habit, during the Removal of the
sacred vessels after sacrifice, of using the hymn commencing

    "Harmoniously the Princes
      Draw near with reverent tread,
    Assisting in his worship
      Heaven's Son, the great and dread."

"How," exclaimed the Master, "can such words be appropriated in the
ancestral hall of the Three Families?"

"Where a man," said he again, "has not the proper feelings due from one
man to another, how will he stand as regards the Rules of Propriety? And
in such a case, what shall we say of his sense of harmony?"

On a question being put to him by Lin Fang, a disciple, as to what was
the radical idea upon which the Rules of Propriety were based, the
Master exclaimed, "Ah! that is a large question. As to some rules,
where there is likelihood of extravagance, they would rather demand
economy; in those which relate to mourning, and where there is
likelihood of being easily satisfied, what is wanted is real sorrow."

Speaking of the disorder of the times he remarked that while the
barbarians on the North and East had their Chieftains, we here in this
great country had nothing to compare with them in that respect:--we
had lost these distinctions!

Alluding to the matter of the Chief of the Ki family worshipping on
T‘ai-shan,[7] the Master said to Yen Yu, "Cannot you save him from
this?" He replied, "It is beyond my power." "Alas, alas!" exclaimed
the Master, "are we to say that the spirits of T‘ai-shan have not as
much discernment as Lin Fang?"

Of "the superior man," the Master observed, "In him there is no
contentiousness. Say even that he does certainly contend with others,
as in archery competitions; yet mark, in that case, how courteously he
will bow and go up for the forfeit-cup, and come down again and give
it to his competitor. In his very contest he is still the superior man."

Tsz-hiá once inquired what inference might be drawn from the lines--

    "Dimples playing in witching smile,
      Beautiful eyes, so dark, so bright!
    Oh, and her face may be thought the while
      Colored by art, red rose on white!"

"Coloring," replied the Master, "requires a pure and clear
background." "Then," said the other, "rules of ceremony require to
have a background!" "Ah!" exclaimed the Master, "you are the man to
catch the drift of my thought. Such as you may well introduce a
discussion on the Odes."

Said the Master, "As regards the ceremonial adopted and enforced by
the Hiá dynasty, I am able to describe it, although their own
descendants in the State of Ki can adduce no adequate testimony in
favor of its use there. So, too, I am able to describe the ceremonial
of the Yin dynasty, although no more can the Sung people show
sufficient reason for its continuance amongst themselves. And why
cannot they do so? Because they have not documents enough, nor men
learned enough. If only they had such, I could refer them to them in
support of their usages.

"When I am present at the great quinquennial sacrifice to the _manes_
of the royal ancestors," the Master said, "from the pouring-out of the
oblation onwards, I have no heart to look on."

Some one asked what was the purport of this great sacrifice, and the
Master replied, "I cannot tell. The position in the empire of him who
could tell you is as evident as when you look at this"--pointing to
the palm of his hand.

When he offered sacrifices to his ancestors, he used to act as if they
were present before him. In offering to other spirits it was the same.

He would say, "If I do not myself take part in my offerings, it is all
the same as if I did not offer them."

Wang-sun Kiá asked him once, "What says the proverb, 'Better to court
favor in the kitchen than in the drawing-room'?" The Master replied,
"Nay, better say, He who has sinned against Heaven has none other to
whom prayer may be addressed."

Of the Chow dynasty the Master remarked, "It looks back upon two other
dynasties; and what a rich possession it has in its records of those
times! I follow Chow!"

On his first entry into the grand temple, he inquired about every
matter connected with its usages. Some one thereupon remarked, "Who
says that the son of the man of Tsou[8] understands about ceremonial?
On entering the grand temple he inquired about everything." This
remark coming to the Master's ears, he said, "What I did is part of
the ceremonial!"

"In archery," he said, "the great point to be observed is not simply
the perforation of the leather; for men have not all the same
strength. That was the fashion in the olden days."

Once, seeing that his disciple Tsz-kung was desirous that the
ceremonial observance of offering a sheep at the new moon might be
dispensed with, the Master said, "Ah! you grudge the loss of the
sheep; I grudge the loss of the ceremony."

"To serve one's ruler nowadays," he remarked, "fully complying with
the Rules of Propriety, is regarded by others as toadyism!"

When Duke Ting questioned him as to how a prince should deal with his
ministers, and how they in turn should serve their prince, Confucius
said in reply, "In dealing with his ministers a prince should observe
the proprieties; in serving his prince a minister should observe the
duty of loyalty."

Referring to the First of the Odes, he remarked that it was mirthful
without being lewd, and sad also without being painful.

Duke Ngai asked the disciple Tsai Wo respecting the places for
sacrificing to the Earth. The latter replied, "The Family of the Great
Yu, of the Hiá dynasty, chose a place of pine trees; the Yin founders
chose cypresses; and the Chow founders chestnut trees, solemn and
majestic, to inspire, 'tis said, the people with feelings of awe."

The Master on hearing of this exclaimed, "Never an allusion to things
that have been enacted in the past! Never a remonstrance against what
is now going on! He has gone away without a word of censure."

The Master once said of Kwan Chung,[9] "A small-minded man indeed!"

"Was he miserly?" some one asked.

"Miserly, indeed!" said he; "not that: he married three times, and he
was not a man who restricted his official business to too few
hands--how could he be miserly?"

"He knew the Rules of Propriety, I suppose?"

"Judge:--Seeing that the feudal lords planted a screen at their gates,
he too would have one at his! Seeing that when any two of the feudal
lords met in friendly conclave they had an earthenware stand on which
to place their inverted cups after drinking, he must have the same! If
he knew the Rules of Propriety, who is there that does not know them?"

In a discourse to the Chief Preceptor of Music at the court of Lu, the
Master said, "Music is an intelligible thing. When you begin a
performance, let all the various instruments produce as it were one
sound (inharmonious); then, as you go on, bring out the harmony fully,
distinctly, and with uninterrupted flow, unto the end."

The warden of the border-town of I requested an interview with
Confucius, and said, "When great men have come here, I have never yet
failed to obtain a sight of them." The followers introduced him; and,
on leaving, he said to them, "Sirs, why grieve at his loss of office?
The empire has for long been without good government; and Heaven is
about to use your master as its edict-announcer."

Comparing the music of the emperor Shun with the music of King Wu,
the Master said, "That of Shun is beautiful throughout, and also good
throughout. That of Wu is all of it beautiful, but scarcely all of it
good."

"High station," said the Master, "occupied by men who have no large
and generous heart; ceremonial performed with no reverence; duties of
mourning engaging the attention, where there is absence of
sorrow;--how should I look on, where this is the state of things?"

[Footnote 4: The Chief of the Ki clan was virtually the Duke of Lu,
under whom Confucius for a time held office.]

[Footnote 5: These posturers were mutes who took part in the ritual of
the ancestral temple, waving plumes, flags, etc. Each line or rank of
these contained eight men. Only in the sovereign's household should
there have been eight lines of them; a ducal family like the Ki should
have had but six lines; a great official had four, and one of lower
grade two. These were the gradations marking the status of families,
and Confucius's sense of propriety was offended at the Ki's usurping
in this way the appearance of royalty.]

[Footnote 6: Three great families related to each other, in whose
hands the government of the State of Lu then was, and of which the Ki
was the chief.]

[Footnote 7: One of the five sacred mountains, worshipped upon only by
the sovereign.]

[Footnote 8: Tsou was Confucius's birthplace; his father was governor
of the town.]

[Footnote 9: A renowned statesman who flourished about two hundred
years before Confucius's time. A philosophical work on law and
government, said to have been written by him, is still extant. He was
regarded as a sage by the people, but he lacked, in Confucius's eyes,
the one thing needful--propriety.]




BOOK IV

_Social Virtue--Superior and Inferior Man_


Sayings of the Master:--

"It is social good feeling that gives charm to a neighborhood. And where
is the wisdom of those who choose an abode where it does not abide?

"Those who are without it cannot abide long, either in straitened or
in happy circumstances. Those who possess it find contentment in it.
Those who are wise go after it as men go after gain.

"Only they in whom it exists can have right likings and dislikings for
others.

"Where the will is set upon it, there will be no room for
malpractices.

"Riches and honor are what men desire; but if they arrive at them by
improper ways, they should not continue to hold them. Poverty and low
estate are what men dislike; but if they arrive at such a condition by
improper ways, they should not refuse it.

"If the 'superior man' make nought of social good feeling, how shall
he fully bear that name?

"Not even whilst he eats his meal will the 'superior man' forget what
he owes to his fellow-men. Even in hurried leave-takings, even in
moments of frantic confusion, he keeps true to this virtue.

"I have not yet seen a lover of philanthropy, nor a hater of
misanthropy--such, that the former did not take occasion to magnify
that virtue in himself, and that the latter, in his positive practice
of philanthropy, did not, at times, allow in his presence something
savoring of misanthropy.

"Say you, is there any one who is able for one whole day to apply the
energy of his mind to this virtue? Well, I have not seen any one whose
energy was not equal to it. It may be there are such, but I have never
met with them.

"The faults of individuals are peculiar to their particular class and
surroundings; and it is by observing their faults that one comes to
understand the condition of their good feelings towards their fellows.

"One may hear the right way in the morning, and at evening die.

"The scholar who is intent upon learning the right way, and who is yet
ashamed of poor attire and poor food, is not worthy of being
discoursed with.

"The masterly man's attitude to the world is not exclusively this or
that: whatsoever is right, to that he will be a party.

"The masterly man has an eye to virtue, the common man, to earthly
things; the former has an eye to penalties for error--the latter, to
favor.

"Where there is habitual going after gain, there is much ill-will.

"When there is ability in a ruler to govern a country by adhering to
the Rules of Propriety, and by kindly condescension, what is wanted
more? Where the ability to govern thus is wanting, what has such a
ruler to do with the Rules of Propriety?

"One should not be greatly concerned at not being in office; but
rather about the requirements in one's self for such a standing.
Neither should one be so much concerned at being unknown; but rather
with seeking to become worthy of being known."

Addressing his disciple Tsang Sin, the Master said, "Tsang Sin, the
principles which I inculcate have one main idea upon which they all
hang." "Aye, surely," he replied.

When the Master was gone out the other disciples asked what was the
purport of this remark. Tsang's answer was, "The principles of our
Master's teaching are these---whole-heartedness and kindly
forbearance; these and nothing more."

Other observations of the Master:--

"Men of loftier mind manifest themselves in their equitable dealings;
small-minded men in their going after gain.

"When you meet with men of worth, think how you may attain to their
level; when you see others of an opposite character, look within, and
examine yourself.

"A son, in ministering to his parents, may (on occasion) offer gentle
remonstrances; when he sees that their will is not to heed such, he
should nevertheless still continue to show them reverent respect, never
obstinacy; and if he have to suffer, let him do so without murmuring.

"Whilst the parents are still living, he should not wander far; or, if
a wanderer, he should at least have some fixed address.

"If for three years he do not veer from the principles of his father,
he may be called a dutiful son.

"A son should not ignore the years of his parents. On the one hand,
they may be a matter for rejoicing (that they have been so many), and
on the other, for apprehension (that so few remain).

"People in olden times were loth to speak out, fearing the disgrace of
not being themselves as good as their words.

"Those who keep within restraints are seldom losers.

"To be slow to speak, but prompt to act, is the desire of the
'superior man.'

"Virtue dwells not alone: she must have neighbors."

An observation of Tsz-yu:--

"Officiousness, in the service of princes, leads to disgrace; among
friends, to estrangement."




BOOK V

_A Disciple and the Golden Rule--Miscellaneous_


The Master pronounced Kung-ye Ch‘ang, a disciple, to be a
marriageable person; for although lying bound in criminal fetters he
had committed no crime. And he gave him his own daughter to wife.

Of Nan Yung, a disciple, he observed, that in a State where the
government was well conducted he would not be passed over in its
appointments, and in one where the government was ill conducted he
would evade punishment and disgrace. And he caused his elder brother's
daughter to be given in marriage to him.

Of Tsz-tsien, a disciple, he remarked, "A superior man indeed is the
like of him! But had there been none of superior quality in Lu, how
should this man have attained to this excellence?"

Tsz-kung asked, "What of me, then?" "You," replied the Master--"You
are a receptacle." "Of what sort?" said he. "One for high and sacred
use," was the answer.

Some one having observed of Yen Yung that he was good-natured towards
others, but that he lacked the gift of ready speech, the Master said,
"What need of that gift? To stand up before men and pour forth a stream
of glib words is generally to make yourself obnoxious to them. I know
not about his good-naturedness; but at any rate what need of that gift?"

When the Master proposed that Tsi-tiau K‘ai should enter the
government service, the latter replied, "I can scarcely credit it."
The Master was gratified.

"Good principles are making no progress," once exclaimed the Master.
"If I were to take a raft, and drift about on the sea, would Tsz-lu, I
wonder, be my follower there?" That disciple was delighted at hearing
the suggestion; whereupon the Master continued, "He surpasses me in
his love of deeds of daring. But he does not in the least grasp the
pith of my remark."

In reply to a question put to him by Mang Wu respecting Tsz-lu--as to
whether he might be called good-natured towards others, the Master
said, "I cannot tell"; but, on the question being put again, he
answered, "Well, in an important State[10] he might be intrusted with
the management of the military levies; but I cannot answer for his
good nature."

"What say you then of Yen Yu?"

"As for Yen," he replied, "in a city of a thousand families, or in a
secondary fief,[11] he might be charged with the governorship; but I
cannot answer for his good-naturedness."

"Take Tsz-hwa, then; what of him?"

"Tsz-hwa," said he, "with a cincture girt upon him, standing as
attendant at Court, might be charged with the addressing of visitors
and guests; but as to his good-naturedness I cannot answer."

Addressing Tsz-kung, the Master said, "Which of the two is ahead of
the other--yourself or Hwúi?" "How shall I dare," he replied, "even to
look at Hwúi? Only let him hear one particular, and from that he knows
ten; whereas I, if I hear one, may from it know two."

"You are not a match for him, I grant you," said the Master. "You are
not his match."

Tsai Yu, a disciple, used to sleep in the daytime. Said the Master,
"One may hardly carve rotten wood, or use a trowel to the wall of a
manure-yard! In his case, what is the use of reprimand?

"My attitude towards a man in my first dealings with him," he added,
"was to listen to his professions and to trust to his conduct. My
attitude now is to listen to his professions, and to watch his
conduct. My experience with Tsai Yu has led to this change.

"I have never seen," said the Master, "a man of inflexible firmness."
Some one thereupon mentioned Shin Ch‘ang, a disciple. "Ch‘ang,"
said he, "is wanton; where do you get at his inflexibleness?"

Tsz-kung made the remark: "That which I do not wish others to put upon
me, I also wish not to put upon others." "Nay," said the Master, "you
have not got so far as that."

The same disciple once remarked, "There may be access so as to hear
the Master's literary discourses, but when he is treating of human
nature and the way of Heaven, there may not be such success."

Tsz-lu, after once hearing him upon some subject, and feeling himself
as yet incompetent to carry into practice what he had heard, used to
be apprehensive only lest he should hear the subject revived.

Tsz-kung asked how it was that Kung Wan had come to be so styled Wan
(the talented). The Master's answer was, "Because, though a man of an
active nature, he was yet fond of study, and he was not ashamed to
stoop to put questions to his inferiors."

Respecting Tsz-ch‘an,[12] the Master said that he had four of the
essential qualities of the 'superior man':--in his own private walk he
was humble-minded; in serving his superiors he was deferential; in his
looking after the material welfare of the people he was generously
kind; and in his exaction of public service from the latter he was just.

Speaking of Yen Ping, he said, "He was one who was happy in his mode
of attaching men to him. However long the intercourse, he was always
deferential to them."

Referring to Tsang Wan, he asked, "What is to be said of this man's
discernment?--this man with his tortoise-house, with the pillar-heads
and posts bedizened with scenes of hill and mere!"

Tsz-chang put a question relative to the chief Minister of Tsu,
Tsz-wan. He said, "Three times he became chief Minister, and on none
of these occasions did he betray any sign of exultation. Three times
his ministry came to an end, and he showed no sign of chagrin. He used
without fail to inform the new Minister as to the old mode of
administration. What say you of him?"

"That he was a loyal man," said the Master.

"But was he a man of fellow-feeling?" said the disciple.

"Of that I am not sure," he answered; "how am I to get at that?"

The disciple went on to say:--"After the assassination of the prince
of Ts‘i by the officer Ts‘ui, the latter's fellow-official Ch‘in
Wan, who had half a score teams of horses, gave up all, and turned his
back upon him. On coming to another State, he observed, 'There are
here characters somewhat like that of our minister Ts‘ui,' and he
turned his back upon them. Proceeding to a certain other State, he had
occasion to make the same remark, and left. What say you of him?"

"That he was a pure-minded man," answered the Master.

"But was he a man of fellow-feeling?" urged the disciple.

"Of that I am not sure," he replied; "how am I to get at that?"

Ki Wan was one who thought three times over a thing before he acted.
The Master hearing this of him, observed, "Twice would have been
enough."

Of Ning Wu, the Master said that when matters went well in the State
he used to have his wits about him: but when they went wrong, he lost
them. His intelligence might be equalled, but not his witlessness!

Once, when the Master lived in the State of Ch‘in, he exclaimed,
"Let me get home again! Let me get home! My school-children[13] are
wild and impetuous! Though they are somewhat accomplished, and perfect
in one sense in their attainments, yet they know not how to make nice
discriminations."

Of Peh-I and Shuh Ts‘i he said, "By the fact of their not
remembering old grievances, they gradually did away with resentment."

Of Wei-shang Kau he said, "Who calls him straightforward? A person
once begged some vinegar of him, and he begged it from a neighbor, and
then presented him with it!"

"Fine speech," said he, "and studied mien, and superfluous show of
deference--of such things Tso-k‘iu Ming was ashamed. I too am
ashamed of such things. Also of hiding resentment felt towards an
opponent and treating him as a friend--of this kind of thing he was
ashamed, and so too am I."

Attended once by the two disciples Yen Yuen and Tsz-lu, he said, "Come
now, why not tell me, each of you, what in your hearts you are really
after?"

"I should like," said Tsz-lu, "for myself and my friends and
associates, carriages and horses, and to be clad in light furs! nor
would I mind much if they should become the worse for wear."

"And I should like," said Yen Yuen, "to live without boasting of my
abilities, and without display of meritorious deeds."

Tsz-lu then said, "I should like, sir, to hear what your heart is set
upon."

The Master replied, "It is this:--in regard to old people, to give
them quiet and comfort; in regard to friends and associates, to be
faithful to them; in regard to the young, to treat them with fostering
affection and kindness."

On one occasion the Master exclaimed, "Ah, 'tis hopeless! I have not
yet seen the man who can see his errors, so as inwardly to accuse
himself."

"In a small cluster of houses there may well be," said he, "some whose
integrity and sincerity may compare with mine; but I yield to none in
point of love of learning."

[Footnote 10: Lit., a State of 1,000 war chariots.]

[Footnote 11: Lit., a House of 100 war chariots.]

[Footnote 12: A great statesman of Confucius's time.]

[Footnote 13: A familiar way of speaking of his disciples in their
hearing.]




BOOK VI

_More Characteristics--Wisdom--Philanthropy_


Of Yen Yung, a disciple, the Master said, "Yung might indeed do for a
prince!"

On being asked by this Yen Yung his opinion of a certain individual,
the Master replied, "He is passable. Impetuous, though."

"But," argued the disciple, "if a man habituate himself to a reverent
regard for duty--even while in his way of doing things he is
impetuous--in the oversight of the people committed to his charge, is
he not passable? If, on the other hand, he habituate himself to
impetuosity of mind, and show it also in his way of doing things, is
he not then over-impetuous?"

"You are right," said the Master.

When the Duke Ngai inquired which of the disciples were devoted to
learning, Confucius answered him, "There was one Yen Hwúi who loved
it--a man whose angry feelings towards any particular person he did
not suffer to visit upon another; a man who would never fall into the
same error twice. Unfortunately his allotted time was short, and he
died, and now his like is not to be found; I have never heard of one
so devoted to learning."

While Tsz-hwa, a disciple, was away on a mission to Ts‘i, the
disciple Yen Yu, on behalf of his mother, applied for some grain.
"Give her three pecks," said the Master. He applied for more. "Give
her eight, then." Yen gave her fifty times that amount. The Master
said, "When Tsz-hwa went on that journey to Ts‘i, he had well-fed
steeds yoked to his carriage, and was arrayed in light furs. I have
learnt that the 'superior man' should help those whose needs are
urgent, not help the rich to be more rich."

When Yuen Sz became prefect under him, he gave him nine hundred
measures of grain, but the prefect declined to accept them.[14] "You
must not," said the Master. "May they not be of use to the villages
and hamlets around you?"

Speaking of Yen Yung again, the Master said, "If the offspring of a
speckled ox be red in color, and horned, even though men may not wish
to take it for sacrifice, would the spirits of the hills and streams
reject it?"

Adverting to Hwúi again, he said, "For three months there would not be
in his breast one thought recalcitrant against his feeling of
good-will towards his fellow-men. The others may attain to this for a
day or for a month, but there they end."

When asked by Ki K‘ang whether Tsz-lu was fit to serve the
government, the Master replied, "Tsz-lu is a man of decision: what
should prevent him from serving the government?"

Asked the same question respecting Tsz-kung and Yen Yu he answered
similarly, pronouncing Tsz-kung to be a man of perspicacity, and Yen
Yu to be one versed in the polite arts.

When the head of the Ki family sent for Min Tsz-k‘ien to make him
governor of the town of Pi, that disciple said, "Politely decline for
me. If the offer is renewed, then indeed I shall feel myself obliged
to go and live on the further bank of the Wan."

Peh-niu had fallen ill, and the Master was inquiring after him. Taking
hold of his hand held out from the window, he said, "It is taking him
off! Alas, his appointed time has come! Such a man, and to have such
an illness!"

Of Hwúi, again: "A right worthy man indeed was he! With his simple
wooden dish of rice, and his one gourd-basin of drink, away in his
poor back lane, in a condition too grievous for others to have
endured, he never allowed his cheery spirits to droop. Aye, a right
worthy soul was he!"

"It is not," Yen Yu once apologized, "that I do not take pleasure in
your doctrines; it is that I am not strong enough." The Master
rejoined, "It is when those who are not strong enough have made some
moderate amount of progress that they fail and give up; but you are
now drawing your own line for yourself."

Addressing Tsz-hiá, the Master said, "Let your scholarship be that of
gentlemen, and not like that of common men."

When Tsz-yu became governor of Wu-shing, the Master said to him, "Do
you find good men about you?" The reply was, "There is Tan-t‘ai
Mieh-ming, who when walking eschews by-paths, and who, unless there be
some public function, never approaches my private residence."

"Mang Chi-fan," said the Master, "is no sounder of his own praises.
During a stampede he was in the rear, and as they were about to enter
the city gate he whipped up his horses, and said, ''Twas not my daring
made me lag behind. My horses would not go.'"

_Obiter dicta_ of the Master:--

"Whoever has not the glib utterance of the priest T‘o, as well as
the handsomeness of Prince Cháu of Sung, will find it hard to keep out
of harm's way in the present age.

"Who can go out but by that door? Why walks no one by these guiding
principles?

"Where plain naturalness is more in evidence than polish, we
have--the man from the country. Where polish is more in evidence than
naturalness, we have--the town scribe. It is when naturalness and
polish are equally evident that we have the ideal man.

"The life of a man is--his rectitude. Life without it--such may you
have the good fortune to avoid!

"They who know it are not as those who love it, nor they who love it
as those who rejoice in it--that is, have the fruition of their love
for it.

"To the average man, and those above the average, it is possible to
discourse on higher subjects; to those from the average downwards, it
is not possible."

Fan Ch‘i put a query about wisdom. The Master replied, "To labor for
the promoting of righteous conduct among the people of the land; to be
serious in regard to spiritual beings, and to hold aloof from
them;--this may be called wisdom."

To a further query, about philanthropy, he replied, "Those who possess
that virtue find difficulty with it at first, success later.

"Men of practical knowledge," he said, "find their gratification among
the rivers of the lowland, men of sympathetic social feeling find
theirs among the hills. The former are active and bustling, the latter
calm and quiet. The former take their day of pleasure, the latter look
to length of days."

Alluding to the States of Ts‘i and Lu, he observed, that Ts‘i, by
one change, might attain to the condition of Lu; and that Lu, by one
change, might attain to good government.

An exclamation of the Master (satirizing the times, when old terms
relating to government were still used while bereft of their old
meaning):--"A quart, and not a quart! _quart_, indeed! _quart_, indeed!"

Tsai Wo, a disciple, put a query. Said he, "Suppose a philanthropic
person were told, 'There's a fellow-creature down in the well!' Would
he go down after him?"

"Why should he really do so?" answered the Master. "The good man, or a
superior man might be induced to go, but not to go down. He may be
misled, but not befooled."

"The superior man," said he, "with his wide study of books, and
hedging himself round by the Rules of Propriety, is not surely, after
all that, capable of overstepping his bounds."

Once when the Master had had an interview with Nan-tsz, which had
scandalized his disciple Tsz-lu, he uttered the solemn adjuration, "If
I have done aught amiss, may Heaven reject me! may Heaven reject me!"

"How far-reaching," said he, "is the moral excellence that flows from
the Constant Mean![15] It has for a long time been rare among the
people."

Tsz-kung said, "Suppose the case of one who confers benefits far and
wide upon the people, and who can, in so doing, make his bounty
universally felt--how would you speak of him? Might he be called
philanthropic?"

The Master exclaimed, "What a work for philanthropy! He would require
indeed to be a sage! He would put into shade even Yau and Shun!--Well,
a philanthropic person, desiring for himself a firm footing, is led on
to give one to others; desiring for himself an enlightened perception
of things, he is led on to help others to be similarly enlightened. If
one could take an illustration coming closer home to us than yours,
that might be made the starting-point for speaking about
philanthropy."

[Footnote 14: At this time Confucius was Criminal Judge in his native
State of Lu. Yuen Sz had been a disciple. The commentators add that this
was the officer's proper salary, and that he did wrong to refuse it.]

[Footnote 15: The doctrine afterwards known by that name, and which
gave its title to a Confucian treatise.]




BOOK VII

_Characteristics of Confucius--An Incident_


Said the Master:--

"I, as a transmitter[16] and not an originator, and as one who
believes in and loves the ancients, venture to compare myself with our
old P‘ang.

"What find you indeed in me?--a quiet brooder and memorizer; a student
never satiated with learning; an unwearied monitor of others!

"The things which weigh heavily upon my mind are these--failure to
improve in the virtues, failure in discussion of what is learnt,
inability to walk according to knowledge received as to what is right
and just, inability also to reform what has been amiss."

In his hours of recreation and refreshment the Master's manner was
easy and unconstrained, affable and winning.

Once he exclaimed, "Alas! I must be getting very feeble; 'tis long
since I have had a repetition of the dreams in which I used to see the
Duke of Chow.[17]

"Concentrate the mind," said he, "upon the Good Way.

"Maintain firm hold upon Virtue.

"Rely upon Philanthropy.

"Find recreation in the Arts.[18]

"I have never withheld instruction from any, even from those who have
come for it with the smallest offering.

"No subject do I broach, however, to those who have no eager desire to
learn; no encouraging hint do I give to those who show no anxiety to
speak out their ideas; nor have I anything more to say to those who,
after I have made clear one corner of the subject, cannot from that
give me the other three."

If the Master was taking a meal, and there were any in mourning beside
him, he would not eat to the full.

On one day on which he had wept, on that day he would not sing.

Addressing his favorite disciple, he said, "To you only and myself it
has been given to do this--to go when called to serve, and to go back
into quiet retirement when released from office."

Tsz-lu, hearing the remark said, "But if, sir, you had the handling of
the army of one of the greater States,[19] whom would you have
associated with you in that case?"

The Master answered:--

    "Not the one 'who'll rouse the tiger,'
      Not the one 'who'll wade the Ho;'

not the man who can die with no regret. He must be one who should
watch over affairs with apprehensive caution, a man fond of strategy,
and of perfect skill and effectiveness in it."

As to wealth, he remarked, "If wealth were an object that I could go
in quest of, I should do so even if I had to take a whip and do
grooms' work. But seeing that it is not, I go after those objects for
which I have a liking."

Among matters over which he exercised great caution were times of
fasting, war, and sickness.

When he was in the State of Ts‘i, and had heard the ancient Shau
music, he lost all perception of the taste of his meat. "I had no
idea," said he, "that music could have been brought to this pitch."

In the course of conversation Yen Yu said, "Does the Master take the
part of the Prince of Wei?" "Ah yes!" said Tsz-kung, "I will go and
ask him that."

On going in to him, that disciple began, "What sort of men were Peh-I
and Shuh Ts‘i?" "Worthies of the olden time," the Master replied.
"Had they any feelings of resentment?" was the next question. "Their
aim and object," he answered, "was that of doing the duty which every
man owes to his fellows, and they succeeded in doing it;--what room
further for feelings of resentment?" The questioner on coming out
said, "The Master does not take his part."

"With a meal of coarse rice," said the Master, "and with water to
drink, and my bent arm for my pillow--even thus I can find happiness.
Riches and honors without righteousness are to me as fleeting clouds."

"Give me several years more to live," said he, "and after fifty years'
study of the 'Book of Changes' I might come to be free from serious
error."

The Master's regular subjects of discourse were the "Books of the
Odes" and "History," and the up-keeping of the Rules of Propriety. On
all of these he regularly discoursed.

The Duke of Shih questioned Tsz-lu about Confucius, and the latter did
not answer.

Hearing of this, the Master said, "Why did you not say, He is a man
with a mind so intent on his pursuits that he forgets his food, and
finds such pleasure in them that he forgets his troubles, and does not
know that old age is coming upon him?"

"As I came not into life with any knowledge of it," he said, "and as
my likings are for what is old, I busy myself in seeking knowledge
there."

Strange occurrences, exploits of strength, deeds of lawlessness,
references to spiritual beings--such-like matters the Master avoided
in conversation.

"Let there," he said, "be three men walking together: from that number
I should be sure to find my instructors; for what is good in them I
should choose out and follow, and what is not good I should modify."

On one occasion he exclaimed, "Heaven begat Virtue in me; what can man
do unto me?"

To his disciples he once said, "Do you look upon me, my sons, as
keeping anything secret from you? I hide nothing from you. I do
nothing that is not manifest to your eyes, my disciples. That is so
with me."

Four things there were which he kept in view in his
teaching--scholarliness, conduct of life, honesty, faithfulness.

"It is not given to me," he said, "to meet with a sage; let me but
behold a man of superior mind, and that will suffice. Neither is it
given to me to meet with a good man; let me but see a man of
constancy, and it will suffice. It is difficult for persons to have
constancy, when they pretend to have that which they are destitute of,
to be full when they are empty, to do things on a grand scale when
their means are contracted!"

When the Master fished with hook and line, he did not also use a net.
When out with his bow, he would never shoot at game in cover.

"Some there may be," said he, "who do things in ignorance of what they
do. I am not of these. There is an alternative way of knowing things,
viz.--to sift out the good from the many things one hears, and follow
it; and to keep in memory the many things one sees."

Pupils from Hu-hiang were difficult to speak with. One youth came to
interview the Master, and the disciples were in doubt whether he ought
to have been seen. "Why so much ado," said the Master, "at my merely
permitting his approach, and not rather at my allowing him to draw
back? If a man have cleansed himself in order to come and see me, I
receive him as such; but I do not undertake for what he will do when
he goes away."

"Is the philanthropic spirit far to seek, indeed?" the Master
exclaimed; "I wish for it, and it is with me!"

The Minister of Crime in the State of Ch‘in asked Confucius whether
Duke Ch‘au, of Lu was acquainted with the Proprieties; and he
answered, "Yes, he knows them."

When Confucius had withdrawn, the minister bowed to Wu-ma K‘i, a
disciple, and motioned to him to come forward. He said, "I have heard
that superior men show no partiality; are they, too, then, partial?
That prince took for his wife a lady of the Wu family, having the same
surname as himself, and had her named 'Lady Tsz of Wu, the elder.' If
he knows the Proprieties, then who does not?"

The disciple reported this to the Master, who thereupon remarked,
"Well for me! If I err in any way, others are sure to know of it."

When the Master was in company with any one who sang, and who sang
well, he must needs have the song over again, and after that would
join in it.

"Although in letters," he said, "I may have none to compare with me,
yet in my personification of the 'superior man' I have not as yet been
successful."

"'A Sage and a Philanthropist?' How should I have the ambition?" said
he. "All that I can well be called is this--An insatiable student, an
unwearied teacher;--this, and no more."--"Exactly what we, your
disciples, cannot by any learning manage to be," said Kung-si Hwa.

Once when the Master was seriously ill, Tsz-lu requested to be allowed
to say prayers for him. "Are such available?" asked the Master. "Yes,"
said he; "and the Manual of Prayers says, 'Pray to the spirits above
and to those here below.'"

"My praying has been going on a long while," said the Master.

"Lavish living," he said, "renders men disorderly; miserliness makes
them hard. Better, however, the hard than the disorderly."

Again, "The man of superior mind is placidly composed; the
small-minded man is in a constant state of perturbation."

The Master was gentle, yet could be severe; had an overawing presence,
yet was not violent; was deferential, yet easy.

[Footnote 16: In reference to his editing the six Classics of his time.]

[Footnote 17: This was one of his "beloved ancients," famous for what
he did in helping to found the dynasty of Chow, a man of great
political wisdom, a scholar also, and poet. It was the "dream" of
Confucius's life to restore the country to the condition in which the
Duke of Chow left it.]

[Footnote 18: These were six in number, viz.: Ceremonial, Music,
Archery, Horsemanship, Language, and Calculation.]

[Footnote 19: Lit., three forces. Each force consisted of 12,500 men,
and three of such forces were the equipment of a greater State.]




BOOK VIII

_Sayings of Tsang--Sentences of the Master_


Speaking of T‘ai-pih the Master said that he might be pronounced a
man of the highest moral excellence; for he allowed the empire to pass
by him onwards to a third heir; while the people, in their ignorance
of his motives, were unable to admire him for so doing.

"Without the Proprieties," said the Master, "we have these results:
for deferential demeanor, a worried one; for calm attentiveness,
awkward bashfulness; for manly conduct, disorderliness; for
straightforwardness, perversity.

"When men of rank show genuine care for those nearest to them in
blood, the people rise to the duty of neighborliness and sociability.
And when old friendships among them are not allowed to fall off, there
will be a cessation of underhand practices among the people."

The Scholar Tsang was once unwell, and calling his pupils to him he said
to them, "Disclose to view my feet and my hands. What says the Ode?--

    'Act as from a sense of danger,
      With precaution and with care,
    As a yawning gulf o'erlooking,
      As on ice that scarce will bear.'

At all times, my children, I know how to keep myself free from bodily
harm."

Again, during an illness of his, Mang King, an official, went to ask
after him. The Scholar had some conversation with him, in the course
of which he said--

    "'Doleful the cries of a dying bird,
      Good the last words of a dying man.'

There are three points which a man of rank in the management of his
duties should set store upon:--A lively manner and deportment,
banishing both severity and laxity; a frank and open expression of
countenance, allied closely with sincerity; and a tone in his
utterances utterly free from any approach to vulgarity and
impropriety. As to matters of bowls and dishes, leave such things to
those who are charged with the care of them."

Another saying of the Scholar Tsang: "I once had a friend who, though
he possessed ability, would go questioning men of none, and though
surrounded by numbers, would go with his questions to isolated
individuals; who also, whatever he might have, appeared as if he were
without it, and, with all his substantial acquirements, made as though
his mind were a mere blank; and when insulted would not
retaliate;--this was ever his way."

Again he said: "The man that is capable of being intrusted with the
charge of a minor on the throne, and given authority over a large
territory, and who, during the important term of his superintendence
cannot be forced out of his position, is not such a 'superior man'?
That he is, indeed."

Again:--"The learned official must not be without breadth and power of
endurance: the burden is heavy, and the way is long.

"Suppose that he take his duty to his fellow-men as his peculiar
burden, is that not indeed a heavy one? And since only with death it
is done with, is not the way long?"

Sentences of the Master:--

"From the 'Book of Odes' we receive impulses; from the 'Book of the
Rules,' stability; from the 'Book on Music,' refinement.[20]

"The people may be put into the way they should go, though they may
not be put into the way of understanding it.

"The man who likes bravery, and yet groans under poverty, has mischief
in him. So, too, has the misanthrope, groaning at any severity shown
towards him.

"Even if a person were adorned with the gifts of the Duke of Chow, yet
if he were proud and avaricious, all the rest of his qualities would
not indeed be worth looking at.

"Not easily found is the man who, after three years' study, has failed
to come upon some fruit of his toil.

"The really faithful lover of learning holds fast to the Good Way till
death.

"He will not go into a State in which a downfall is imminent, nor take
up his abode in one where disorder reigns. When the empire is well
ordered he will show himself; when not, he will hide himself away.
Under a good government it will be a disgrace to him if he remain in
poverty and low estate; under a bad one, it would be equally
disgraceful to him to hold riches and honors.

"If not occupying the office, devise not the policy.

"When the professor Chi began his duties, how grand the finale of the
First of the Odes used to be! How it rang in one's ears!

"I cannot understand persons who are enthusiastic and yet not
straightforward; nor those who are ignorant and yet not attentive; nor
again those folks who are simple-minded and yet untrue.

"Learn, as if never overtaking your object, and yet as if apprehensive
of losing it.

"How sublime was the handling of the empire by Shun and Yu!--it was as
nothing to them!

"How great was Yau as a prince! Was he not sublime! Say that Heaven
only is great, then was Yau alone after its pattern! How profound was
he! The people could not find a name for him. How sublime in his
achievements! How brilliant in his scholarly productions!"

Shun had for his ministers five men, by whom he ordered the empire.

King Wu (in his day) stated that he had ten men as assistants for the
promotion of order.

With reference to these facts Confucius observed, "Ability is hard to
find. Is it not so indeed? During the three years' interregnum between
Yau and Shun there was more of it than in the interval before this
present dynasty appeared. There were, at this latter period, one
woman, and nine men only.

"When two-thirds of the empire were held by King Wan, he served with
that portion the House of Yin. We speak of the virtue of the House of
Chow; we may say, indeed, that it reached the pinnacle of excellence."

"As to Yu," added the Master, "I can find no flaw in him. Living on
meagre food and drink; yet providing to the utmost in his filial
offerings to the spirits of the dead! Dressing in coarse garments; yet
most elegant when vested in his sacrificial apron and coronet!
Dwelling in a poor palace; yet exhausting his energies over those
boundary-ditches and watercourses! I can find no flaw in Yu."

[Footnote 20: Comparison of three of the Classics: the "Shi-King," the
"Li Ki," and the "Yoh." The last is lost.]




BOOK IX

_His Favorite Disciple's Opinion of Him_


Topics on which the Master rarely spoke were--Advantage, and Destiny,
and Duty of man to man.

A man of the village of Tah-hiang exclaimed of him, "A great man is
Confucius!--a man of extensive learning, and yet in nothing has he
quite made himself a name!"

The Master heard of this, and mentioning it to his disciples he said,
"What then shall I take in hand? Shall I become a carriage driver, or
an archer? Let me be a driver!"

"The sacrificial cap," he once said, "should, according to the Rules,
be of linen; but in these days it is of pure silk. However, as it is
economical, I do as all do.

"The Rule says, 'Make your bow when at the lower end of the hall'; but
nowadays the bowing is done at the upper part. This is great freedom;
and I, though I go in opposition to the crowd, bow when at the lower
end."

The Master barred four words:--he would have no "shall's", no
"must's", no "certainly's", no "I's."

Once, in the town of K‘wang fearing that his life was going to be
taken, the Master exclaimed, "King Wan is dead and gone; but is not
'_wan_'[21] with you here? If Heaven be about to allow this '_wan_' to
perish, then they who survive its decease will get no benefit from
it. But so long as Heaven does not allow it to perish, what can the
men of K‘wang do to me?"

A high State official, after questioning Tsz-kung, said, "Your Master
is a sage, then? How many and what varied abilities must be his!"

The disciple replied, "Certainly Heaven is allowing him full
opportunities of becoming a sage, in addition to the fact that his
abilities are many and varied."

When the Master heard of this he remarked, "Does that high official
know me? In my early years my position in life was low, and hence my
ability in many ways, though exercised in trifling matters. In the
gentleman is there indeed such variety of ability? No."

From this, the disciple Lau used to say, "'Twas a saying of the
Master: 'At a time when I was not called upon to use them, I acquired
my proficiency in the polite arts.'"

"Am I, indeed," said the Master, "possessed of knowledge? I know
nothing. Let a vulgar fellow come to me with a question--a man with an
emptyish head--I may thrash out with him the matter from end to end,
and exhaust myself in doing it!"

"Ah!" exclaimed he once, "the phœnix does not come! and no symbols
issue from the river! May I not as well give up?"

Whenever the Master met with a person in mourning, or with one in
full-dress cap and kirtle, or with a blind person, although they might
be young persons, he would make a point of rising on their appearance,
or, if crossing their path, would do so with quickened step!

Once Yen Yuen exclaimed with a sigh (with reference to the Master's
doctrines), "If I look up to them, they are ever the higher; if I try
to penetrate them, they are ever the harder; if I gaze at them as if
before my eyes, lo, they are behind me!--Gradually and gently the
Master with skill lures men on. By literary lore he gave me breadth;
by the Rules of Propriety he narrowed me down. When I desire a
respite, I find it impossible; and after I have exhausted my powers,
there seems to be something standing straight up in front of me, and
though I have the mind to make towards it I make no advance at all."

Once when the Master was seriously ill, Tsz-lu induced the other
disciples to feign they were high officials acting in his service.
During a respite from his malady the Master exclaimed, "Ah! how long
has Tsz-lu's conduct been false? Whom should I delude, if I were to
pretend to have officials under me, having none? Should I deceive
Heaven? Besides, were I to die, I would rather die in the hands of
yourselves, my disciples, than in the hands of officials. And though I
should fail to have a grand funeral over me, I should hardly be left
on my death on the public highway, should I?"

Tsz-kung once said to him, "Here is a fine gem. Would you guard it
carefully in a casket and store it away, or seek a good price for it
and sell it?" "Sell it, indeed," said the Master--"that would I; but I
should wait for the bidder."

The Master protested he would "go and live among the nine wild tribes."

"A rude life," said some one;--"how could you put up with it?"

"What rudeness would there be," he replied, "if a 'superior man' was
living in their midst?"

Once he remarked, "After I came back from Wei to Lu the music was put
right, and each of the Festal Odes and Hymns was given its appropriate
place and use."

"Ah! which one of these following," he asked on one occasion, "are to
be found exemplified in me--proper service rendered to superiors when
abroad; duty to father and elder brother when at home; duty that
shrinks from no exertion when dear ones die; and keeping free from
the confusing effects of wine?"

Standing once on the bank of a mountain stream, he said (musingly),
"Like this are those that pass away--no cessation, day or night!"

Other sayings:--

"Take an illustration from the making of a hill. A simple basketful is
wanting to complete it, and the work stops. So I stop short.

"Take an illustration from the levelling of the ground. Suppose again
just one basketful is left, when the work has so progressed. There I
desist!

"Ah! it was Hwúi, was it not? who, when I had given him his lesson,
was the unflagging one!

"Alas for Hwúi! I saw him ever making progress. I never saw him
stopping short.

"Blade, but no bloom--or else bloom, but no produce; aye, that is the
way with some!

"Reverent regard is due to youth. How know we what difference there
may be in them in the future from what they are now? Yet when they
have reached the age of forty or fifty, and are still unknown in the
world, then indeed they are no more worthy of such regard.

"Can any do otherwise than assent to words said to them by way of
correction? Only let them reform by such advice, and it will then be
reckoned valuable. Can any be other than pleased with words of gentle
suasion? Only let them comply with them fully, and such also will be
accounted valuable. With those who are pleased without so complying,
and those who assent but do not reform, I can do nothing at all.

"Give prominent place to loyalty and sincerity.

"Have no associates in study who are not advanced somewhat like
yourself.

"When you have erred, be not afraid to correct yourself.

"It may be possible to seize and carry off the chief commander of a
large army, but not possible so to rob one poor fellow of his will.

"One who stands--clad in hempen robe, the worse for wear--among others
clad in furs of fox and badger, and yet unabashed--'tis Tsz-lu, that,
is it not?"

Tsz-lu used always to be humming over the lines--

    "From envy and enmity free,
    What deed doth he other than good?"

"How should such a rule of life," asked the Master, "be sufficient to
make any one good?"

"When the year grows chilly, we know the pine and cypress are the last
to fade.

"The wise escape doubt; the good-hearted, trouble; the bold,
apprehension.

"Some may study side by side, and yet be asunder when they come to the
logic of things. Some may go on together in this latter course, but be
wide apart in the standards they reach in it. Some, again, may together
reach the same standard, and yet be diverse in weight of character."

    "The blossom is out on the cherry tree,
      With a flutter on every spray.
    Dost think that my thoughts go not out to thee?
      Ah, why art thou far away!"

Commenting on these lines the Master said, "There can hardly have been
much thought going out. What does distance signify?"

[Footnote 21: "Wan" was the honorary appellation of the great sage and
ruler, whose praise is in the "Shi-King" as one of the founders of the
Chow dynasty, and the term represented civic talent and virtues, as
distinct from Wu, the martial talent--the latter being the honorary
title of his son and successor. "Wan" also often stands for
literature, and polite accomplishments. Here Confucius simply means,
"If you kill me, you kill a sage."]




BOOK X

_Confucius in Private and Official Life_


In his own village, Confucius presented a somewhat plain and simple
appearance, and looked unlike a man who possessed ability of speech.

But in the ancestral temple, and at Court, he spoke with the fluency
and accuracy of a debater, but ever guardedly.

At Court, conversing with the lower order of great officials, he spoke
somewhat firmly and directly; with those of the higher order his tone
was somewhat more affable.

When the prince was present he was constrainedly reverent in his
movements, and showed a proper degree of grave dignity in demeanor.

Whenever the prince summoned him to act as usher to the Court, his
look would change somewhat, and he would make as though he were
turning round to do obeisance.

He would salute those among whom he took up his position, using the
right hand or the left, and holding the skirts of his robe in proper
position before and behind. He would make his approaches with quick
step, and with elbows evenly bent outwards.

When the visitor withdrew, he would not fail to report the execution
of his commands, with the words, "The visitor no longer looks back."

When he entered the palace gate, it was with the body somewhat bent
forward, almost as though he could not be admitted. When he stood
still, this would never happen in the middle of the gateway; nor when
moving about would he ever tread on the threshold. When passing the
throne, his look would change somewhat, he would turn aside and make a
sort of obeisance, and the words he spoke seemed as though he were
deficient in utterance.

On going up the steps to the audience chamber, he would gather up with
both hands the ends of his robe, and walk with his body bent somewhat
forward, holding back his breath like one in whom respiration has
ceased. On coming out, after descending one step his countenance would
relax and assume an appearance of satisfaction. Arrived at the bottom,
he would go forward with quick step, his elbows evenly bent outwards,
back to his position, constrainedly reverent in every movement.

When holding the sceptre in his hand, his body would be somewhat bent
forward, as if he were not equal to carrying it; wielding it now higher,
as in a salutation, now lower, as in the presentation of a gift; his
look would also be changed and appear awestruck; and his gait would seem
retarded, as if he were obeying some restraining hand behind.

When he presented the gifts of ceremony, he would assume a placid
expression of countenance. At the private interview he would be
cordial and affable.

The good man would use no purple or violet colors for the facings of
his dress.[22] Nor would he have red or orange color for his
undress.[23] For the hot season he wore a singlet, of either coarse or
fine texture, but would also feel bound to have an outer garment
covering it. For his black robe he had lamb's wool; for his white one,
fawn's fur; and for his yellow one, fox fur. His furred undress robe
was longer, but the right sleeve was shortened. He would needs have
his sleeping-dress one and a half times his own length. For ordinary
home wear he used thick substantial fox or badger furs. When he left
off mourning, he would wear all his girdle trinkets. His kirtle in
front, when it was not needed for full cover, he must needs have cut
down. He would never wear his (black) lamb's-wool, or a dark-colored
cap, when he went on visits of condolence to mourners.[24] On the
first day of the new moon, he must have on his Court dress and to
Court. When observing his fasts, he made a point of having bright,
shiny garments, made of linen. He must also at such times vary his
food, and move his seat to another part of his dwelling-room.

As to his food, he never tired of rice so long as it was clean and
pure, nor of hashed meats when finely minced. Rice spoiled by damp,
and sour, he would not touch, nor tainted fish, nor bad meat, nor
aught of a bad color or smell, nor aught overdone in cooking, nor
aught out of season. Neither would he eat anything that was not
properly cut, or that lacked its proper seasonings. Although there
might be an abundance of meat before him, he would not allow a
preponderance of it to rob the rice of its beneficial effect in
nutrition. Only in the matter of wine did he set himself no limit, yet
he never drank so much as to confuse himself. Tradesmen's wines, and
dried meats from the market, he would not touch. Ginger he would never
have removed from the table during a meal. He was not a great eater.
Meat from the sacrifices at the prince's temple he would never put
aside till the following day. The meat of his own offerings he would
never give out after three days' keeping, for after that time none
were to eat it.

At his meals he would not enter into discussions; and when reposing
(afterwards) he would not utter a word.

Even should his meal consist only of coarse rice and vegetable broth
or melons, he would make an offering, and never fail to do so
religiously.

He would never sit on a mat that was not straight.

After a feast among his villagers, he would wait before going away
until the old men had left.

When the village people were exorcising the pests, he would put on his
Court robes and stand on the steps of his hall to receive them.

When he was sending a message of inquiry to a person in another State,
he would bow twice on seeing the messenger off.

Ki K‘ang once sent him a present of some medicine. He bowed, and
received it; but remarked, "Until I am quite sure of its properties I
must not venture to taste it."

Once when the stabling was destroyed by fire, he withdrew from the
Court, and asked, "Is any person injured?"--without inquiring as to
the horses.

Whenever the prince sent him a present of food, he was particular to
set his mat in proper order, and would be the first one to taste it.
If the prince's present was one of raw meat, he must needs have it
cooked, and make an oblation of it. If the gift were a live animal, he
would be sure to keep it and care for it.

When he was in waiting, and at a meal with the prince, the prince
would make the offering,[25] and he (the Master) was the pregustator.

When unwell, and the prince came to see him, he would arrange his
position so that his head inclined towards the east, would put over
him his Court robes, and draw his girdle across them.

When summoned by order of the prince, he would start off without
waiting for his horses to be put to.

On his entry into the Grand Temple, he inquired about everything
connected with its usages.

If a friend died, and there were no near relatives to take him to, he
would say, "Let him be buried from my house."

For a friend's gift--unless it consisted of meat that had been offered
in sacrifice--he would not bow, even if it were a carriage and horses.

In repose he did not lie like one dead. In his home life he was not
formal in his manner.

Whenever he met with a person in mourning, even though it were a
familiar acquaintance, he would be certain to change his manner; and
when he met with any one in full-dress cap, or with any blind person,
he would also unfailingly put on a different look, even though he were
himself in undress at the time.

In saluting any person wearing mourning he would bow forwards towards
the front bar of his carriage; in the same manner he would also salute
the bearer of a census-register.

When a sumptuous banquet was spread before him, a different expression
would be sure to appear in his features, and he would rise up from his
seat.

At a sudden thunder-clap, or when the wind grew furious, his look
would also invariably be changed.

On getting into his car, he would never fail (first) to stand up
erect, holding on by the strap. When in the car, he would never look
about, nor speak hastily, nor bring one hand to the other.

    "Let one but make a movement in his face,
    And the bird will rise and seek some safer place."

Apropos of this, he said, "Here is a hen-pheasant from Shan Liang--and
in season! and in season!" After Tsz-lu had got it prepared, he smelt
it thrice, and then rose up from his seat.

[Footnote 22: Because, it is said, such colors were adopted in fasting
and mourning.]

[Footnote 23: Because they did not belong to the five correct colors
(viz. green, yellow, carnation, white, and black), and were affected
more by females.]

[Footnote 24: Since white was, as it is still, the mourning color.]

[Footnote 25: The act of "grace," before eating.]




BOOK XI

_Comparative Worth of His Disciples_


"The first to make progress in the Proprieties and in Music," said the
Master, "are plain countrymen; after them, the men of higher standing.
If I had to employ any of them, I should stand by the former."

"Of those," said he, "who were about me when I was in the Ch‘in and
Ts‘ai States, not one now is left to approach my door."

"As for Hwúi,"[26] said the Master, "he is not one to help me on:
there is nothing I say but he is not well satisfied with."

"What a dutiful son was Min Tsz-k‘ien!" he exclaimed. "No one finds
occasion to differ from what his parents and brothers have said of
him."

Nan Yung used to repeat three times over the lines in the Odes about
the white sceptre. Confucius caused his own elder brother's daughter
to be given in marriage to him.

When Ki K‘ang inquired which of the disciples were fond of learning,
Confucius answered him, "There was one Yen Hwúi who was fond of it;
but unfortunately his allotted time was short, and he died; and now
his like is not to be found."

When Yen Yuen died, his father, Yen Lu, begged for the Master's
carriage in order to get a shell for his coffin. "Ability or no
ability," said the Master, "every father still speaks of 'my son.'
When my own son Li died, and the coffin for him had no shell to it, I
know I did not go on foot to get him one; but that was because I was,
though retired, in the wake of the ministers, and could not therefore
well do so."

On the death of Yen Yuen the Master exclaimed, "Ah me! Heaven is
ruining me, Heaven is ruining me!"

On the same occasion, his wailing for that disciple becoming excessive,
those who were about him said, "Sir, this is too much!"--"Too much?"
said he; "if I am not to do so for him, then--for whom else?"

The disciples then wished for the deceased a grand funeral. The Master
could not on his part consent to this. They nevertheless gave him one.
Upon this he remarked, "He used to look upon me as if I were his
father. I could never, however, look on him as a son. 'Twas not my
mistake, but yours, my children."

Tsz-lu propounded a question about ministering to the spirits of the
departed. The Master replied, "Where there is scarcely the ability to
minister to living men, how shall there be ability to minister to the
spirits?" On his venturing to put a question concerning death, he
answered, "Where there is scarcely any knowledge about life, how shall
there be any about death?"

The disciple Min was by his side, looking affable and bland; Tsz-lu
also, looking careless and intrepid; and Yen Yu and Tsz-kung, firm and
precise. The Master was cheery. "One like Tsz-lu there," said he,
"does not come to a natural end."

Some persons in Lu were taking measures in regard to the Long Treasury
House. Min Tsz-k‘ien observed, "How if it were repaired on the old
lines?" The Master upon this remarked, "This fellow is not a talker,
but when he does speak he is bound to hit the mark!"

"There is Yu's harpsichord," exclaimed the Master--"what is it doing
at my door?" On seeing, however, some disrespect shown to him by the
other disciples, he added, "Yu has got as far as the top of the hall;
only he has not yet entered the house."

Tsz-kung asked which was the worthier of the two--Tsz-chang or
Tsz-hiá. "The former," answered the Master, "goes beyond the mark; the
latter falls short of it."

"So then Tsz-chang is the better of the two, is he?" said he.

"To go too far," he replied, "is about the same as to fall short."

The Chief of the Ki family was a wealthier man than the Duke of Chow
had been, and yet Yen Yu gathered and hoarded for him, increasing his
wealth more and more.

"He is no follower of mine," said the Master. "It would serve him
right, my children, to sound the drum, and set upon him."

Characteristics of four disciples:--Tsz-káu was simple-minded; Tsang
Si, a dullard; Tsz-chang, full of airs; Tsz-lu, rough.

"As to Hwúi," said the Master, "he comes near to perfection, while
frequently in great want. Tsz-kung does not submit to the appointments
of Heaven; and yet his goods are increased;--he is often successful in
his calculations."

Tsz-chang wanted to know some marks of the naturally Good Man.

"He does not walk in others' footprints," said the Master; "yet he
does not get beyond the hall into the house."

Once the Master said, "Because we allow that a man's words have
something genuine in them, are they necessarily those of a superior
man? or words carrying only an outward semblance and show of gravity?"

Tsz-lu put a question about the practice of precepts one has heard.
The Master's reply was, "In a case where there is a father or elder
brother still left with you, how should you practise all you hear?"

When, however, the same question was put to him by Yen Yu, his reply
was, "Yes; do so."

Kung-si Hwa animadverted upon this to the Master. "Tsz-lu asked you,
sir," said he, "about the practice of what one has learnt, and you
said, 'There may be a father or elder brother still alive'; but when
Yen Yu asked the same question, you answered, 'Yes, do so.' I am at a
loss to understand you, and venture to ask what you meant."

The Master replied, "Yen Yu backs out of his duties; therefore I push
him on. Tsz-lu has forwardness enough for them both; therefore I hold
him back."

On the occasion of that time of fear in K‘wang, Yen Yuen having
fallen behind, the Master said to him (afterwards), "I took it for
granted you were a dead man." "How should I dare to die," said he,
"while you, sir, still lived?"

On Ki Tsz-jen putting to him a question anent Tsz-lu and Yen Yu, as to
whether they might be called "great ministers," the Master answered,
"I had expected your question, sir, to be about something
extraordinary, and lo! it is only about these two. Those whom we call
'great ministers' are such as serve their prince conscientiously, and
who, when they cannot do so, retire. At present, as regards the two
you ask about, they may be called 'qualified ministers.'"

"Well, are they then," he asked, "such as will follow their leader?"

"They would not follow him who should slay his father and his prince!"
was the reply.

Through the intervention of Tsz-lu, Tsz-káu was being appointed
governor of Pi.

"You are spoiling a good man's son," said the Master.

Tsz-lu rejoined, "But he will have the people and their superiors to
gain experience from, and there will be the altars; what need to read
books? He can become a student afterwards."

"Here is the reason for my hatred of glib-tongued people," said the
Master.

On one occasion Tsz-lu, Tsang Sin, Yen Yu, and Kung-si Hwa were
sitting near him. He said to them, "Though I may be a day older than
you, do not (for the moment) regard me as such. While you are living
this unoccupied life you are saying, 'We do not become known.' Now
suppose some one got to know you, what then?"

Tsz-lu--first to speak--at once answered, "Give me a State of large size
and armament, hemmed in and hampered by other larger States, the
population augmented by armies and regiments, causing a dearth in it of
food of all kinds; give me charge of that State, and in three years'
time I should make a brave country of it, and let it know its place."

The Master smiled at him. "Yen," said he, "how would it be with you?"

"Give me," said Yen, "a territory of sixty or seventy li square, or of
fifty or sixty square; put me in charge of that, and in three years I
should make the people sufficiently prosperous. As regards their
knowledge of ceremonial or music, I should wait for superior men to
teach them that."

"And with you, Kung-si, how would it be?"

This disciple's reply was, "I have nothing to say about my
capabilities for such matters; my wish is to learn. I should like to
be a junior assistant, in dark rob and cap, at the services of the
ancestral temple, and at the Grand Receptions of the Princes by the
Sovereign."

"And with you, Tsang Sin?"

This disciple was strumming on his harpsichord, but now the twanging
ceased, he turned from the instrument, rose to his feet, and answered
thus: "Something different from the choice of these three." "What
harm?" said the Master; "I want each one of you to tell me what his
heart is set upon." "Well, then," said he, "give me--in the latter
part of spring--dressed in full spring-tide attire--in company with
five or six young fellows of twenty,[27] or six or seven lads under
that age, to do the ablutions in the I stream, enjoy a breeze in the
rain-dance,[28] and finish up with songs on the road home."

The Master drew in his breath, sighed, and exclaimed, "Ah, I take with
you!"

The three other disciples having gone out, leaving Tsang Sin behind,
the latter said, "What think you of the answers of those
three?"--"Well, each told me what was uppermost in his mind," said the
Master;--"simply that."

"Why did you smile at Tsz-lu, sir?"

"I smiled at him because to have the charge of a State requires due
regard to the Rules of Propriety, and his words betrayed a lack of
modesty."

"But Yen, then--he had a State in view, had he not?"

"I should like to be shown a territory such as he described which does
not amount to a State."

"But had not Kung-si also a State in view?"

"What are ancestral temples and Grand Receptions, but for the feudal
lords to take part in? If Kung-si were to become an unimportant
assistant at these functions, who could become an important one?"

[Footnote 26: The men of virtuous life were Yen Yuen (Hwúi), Min
Tsz-k‘ien, Yen Pih-niu, and Chung-kung (Yen Yung); the speakers and
debaters were Tsai Wo and Tsz-kung; the (capable) government servants
were Yen Yu and Tsz-lu; the literary students, Tsz-yu and Tsz-hiá.]

[Footnote 27: Lit., capped ones. At twenty they underwent the ceremony
of capping, and were considered men.]

[Footnote 28: I.e., before the altars, where offerings were placed
with prayer for rain. A religious dance.]




BOOK XII

_The Master's Answers--Philanthropy--Friendships_


Yen yuen was asking about man's proper regard for his fellow-man. The
Master said to him, "Self-control, and a habit of falling back upon
propriety, virtually effect it. Let these conditions be fulfilled for
one day, and every one round will betake himself to the duty. Is it to
begin in one's self, or think you, indeed! it is to begin in others?"

"I wanted you to be good enough," said Yen Yuen, "to give me a brief
synopsis of it."

Then said the Master, "Without Propriety use not your eyes; without it
use not your ears, nor your tongue, nor a limb of your body."

"I may be lacking in diligence," said Yen Yuen, "but with your favor I
will endeavor to carry out this advice."

Chung-kung asked about man's proper regard for his fellows.

To him the Master replied thus: "When you go forth from your door, be
as if you were meeting some guest of importance. When you are making
use of the common people (for State purposes), be as if you were
taking part in a great religious function. Do not set before others
what you do not desire yourself. Let there be no resentful feelings
against you when you are away in the country, and none when at home."

"I may lack diligence," said Chung-kung, "but with your favor I will
endeavor to carry out this advice."

Sz-ma Niu asked the like question. The answer he received was this:
"The words of the man who has a proper regard for his fellows are
uttered with difficulty."

"'His words--uttered with difficulty?'" he echoed, in surprise. "Is
that what is meant by proper regard for one's fellow-creatures?"

"Where there is difficulty in doing," the Master replied, "will there
not be some difficulty in utterance?"

The same disciple put a question about the "superior man." "Superior
men," he replied, "are free from trouble and apprehension."

"'Free from trouble and apprehension!'" said he. "Does that make them
'superior men'?"

The Master added, "Where there is found, upon introspection, to be no
chronic disease, how shall there be any trouble? how shall there be
any apprehension?"

The same disciple, being in trouble, remarked, "I am alone in having
no brother, while all else have theirs--younger or elder."

Tsz-hiá said to him, "I have heard this: 'Death and life have destined
times; wealth and honors rest with Heaven. Let the superior man keep
watch over himself without ceasing, showing deference to others, with
propriety of manners--and all within the four seas will be his
brethren. How should he be distressed for lack of brothers!'"[29]

Tsz-chang asked what sort of man might be termed "enlightened."

The Master replied, "That man with whom drenching slander and cutting
calumny gain no currency may well be called enlightened. Ay, he with
whom such things make no way may well be called enlightened in the
extreme."

Tsz-kung put a question relative to government. In reply the Master
mentioned three essentials:--sufficient food, sufficient armament, and
the people's confidence.

"But," said the disciple, "if you cannot really have all three, and
one has to be given up, which would you give up first?"

"The armament," he replied.

"And if you are obliged to give up one of the remaining two, which
would it be?"

"The food," said he. "Death has been the portion of all men from of
old. Without the people's trust nothing can stand."

Kih Tsz-shing once said, "Give me the inborn qualities of a gentleman,
and I want no more. How are such to come from book-learning?"

Tsz-kung exclaimed, "Ah! sir, I regret to hear such words from you. A
gentleman!--But 'a team of four can ne'er o'ertake the tongue!'
Literary accomplishments are much the same as inborn qualities, and
inborn qualities as literary accomplishments. A tiger's or leopard's
skin without the hair might be a dog's or sheep's when so made bare."

Duke Ngai was consulting Yu Joh. Said he, "It is a year of dearth, and
there is an insufficiency for Ways and Means--what am I to do?"

"Why not apply the Tithing Statute?" said the minister.

"But two tithings would not be enough for my purposes," said the duke;
"what would be the good of applying the Statute?"

The minister replied, "So long as the people have enough left for
themselves, who of them will allow their prince to be without enough?
But--when the people have not enough, who will allow their prince all
that he wants?"

Tsz-chang was asking how the standard of virtue was to be raised, and
how to discern what was illusory or misleading. The Master's answer
was, "Give a foremost place to honesty and faithfulness, and tread the
path of righteousness, and you will raise the standard of virtue. As
to discerning what is illusory, here is an example of an
illusion:--Whom you love you wish to live; whom you hate you wish to
die. To have wished the same person to live and also to be dead--there
is an illusion for you."

Duke King of Ts‘i consulted Confucius about government. His answer
was, "Let a prince be a prince, and ministers be ministers; let
fathers be fathers, and sons be sons."

"Good!" exclaimed the duke; "truly if a prince fail to be a prince,
and ministers to be ministers, and if fathers be not fathers, and sons
not sons, then, even though I may have my allowance of grain, should I
ever be able to relish it?"

"The man to decide a cause with half a word," exclaimed the Master,
"is Tsz-lu!"

Tsz-lu never let a night pass between promise and performance.

"In hearing causes, I am like other men," said the Master. "The great
point is--to prevent litigation."

Tsz-chang having raised some question about government, the Master
said to him, "In the settlement of its principles be unwearied; in its
administration--see to that loyally."

"The man of wide research," said he, "who also restrains himself by
the Rules of Propriety, is not likely to transgress."

Again, "The noble-minded man makes the most of others' good qualities,
not the worst of their bad ones. Men of small mind do the reverse of
this."

Ki K‘ang was consulting him about the direction of public affairs.
Confucius answered him, "A director should be himself correct. If you,
sir, as a leader show correctness, who will dare not to be correct?"

Ki K‘ang, being much troubled on account of robbers abroad,
consulted Confucius on the matter. He received this reply: "If you,
sir, were not covetous, neither would they steal, even were you to
bribe them to do so."

Ki K‘ang, when consulting Confucius about the government, said,
"Suppose I were to put to death the disorderly for the better
encouragement of the orderly--what say you to that?"

"Sir," replied Confucius, "in the administration of government why
resort to capital punishment? Covet what is good, and the people will
be good. The virtue of the noble-minded man is as the wind, and that
of inferior men as grass; the grass must bend, when the wind blows
upon it."

Tsz-chang asked how otherwise he would describe the learned official
who might be termed influential.

"What, I wonder, do you mean by one who is influential?" said the
Master.

"I mean," replied the disciple, "one who is sure to have a reputation
throughout the country, as well as at home."

"That," said the Master, "is reputation, not influence. The influential
man, then, if he be one who is genuinely straightforward and loves what
is just and right, a discriminator of men's words, and an observer of
their looks, and in honor careful to prefer others to himself--will
certainly have influence, both throughout the country and at home. The
man of mere reputation, on the other hand, who speciously affects
philanthropy, though in his way of procedure he acts contrary to it,
while yet quite evidently engrossed with that virtue--will certainly
have reputation, both in the country and at home."

Fan Ch‘i, strolling with him over the ground below the place of the
rain-dance, said to him, "I venture to ask how to raise the standard
of virtue, how to reform dissolute habits, and how to discern what is
illusory?"

"Ah! a good question indeed!" he exclaimed. "Well, is not putting duty
first, and success second, a way of raising the standard of virtue?
And is not attacking the evil in one's self, and not the evil which is
in others, a way of reforming dissolute habits? And as to illusions,
is not one morning's fit of anger, causing a man to forget himself,
and even involving in the consequences those who are near and dear to
him--is not that an illusion?"

The same disciple asked him what was meant by "a right regard for
one's fellow-creatures." He replied, "It is love to man."

Asked by him again what was meant by wisdom, he replied, "It is
knowledge of man."

Fan Ch‘i did not quite grasp his meaning.

The Master went on to say, "Lift up the straight, set aside the
crooked, so can you make the crooked straight."

Fan Ch‘i left him, and meeting with Tsz-hiá he said, "I had an
interview just now with the Master, and I asked him what wisdom was.
In his answer he said, 'Lift up the straight, set aside the crooked,
and so can you make the crooked straight.' What was his meaning?"

"Ah! words rich in meaning, those," said the other. "When Shun was
emperor, and was selecting his men from among the multitude, he
'lifted up' Káu-yáu; and men devoid of right feelings towards their
kind went far away. And when T‘ang was emperor, and chose out his
men from the crowd, he 'lifted up' I-yin--with the same result."

Tsz-kung was consulting him about a friend. "Speak to him frankly, and
respectfully," said the Master, "and gently lead him on. If you do not
succeed, then stop; do not submit yourself to indignity."

The learned Tsang observed, "In the society of books the 'superior
man' collects his friends; in the society of his friends he is
furthering good-will among men."

[Footnote 29: From Confucius, it is generally thought.]




BOOK XIII

_Answers on the Art of Governing--Consistency_


Tsz-lu was asking about government. "Lead the way in it," said the
Master, "and work hard at it."

Requested to say more, he added, "And do not tire of it."

Chung-kung, on being made first minister to the Chief of the Ki
family, consulted the Master about government, and to him he said,
"Let the heads of offices be heads. Excuse small faults. Promote men
of sagacity and talent."

"But," he asked, "how am I to know the sagacious and talented, before
promoting them?"

"Promote those whom you do know," said the Master.

"As to those of whom you are uncertain, will others omit to notice
them?"

Tsz-lu said to the Master, "As the prince of Wei, sir, has been
waiting for you to act for him in his government, what is it your
intention to take in hand first?"

"One thing of necessity," he answered--"the rectification of terms."

"That!" exclaimed Tsz-lu. "How far away you are, sir! Why such
rectification?"

"What a rustic you are, Tsz-lu!" rejoined the Master. "A gentleman
would be a little reserved and reticent in matters which he does not
understand. If terms be incorrect, language will be incongruous; and
if language be incongruous, deeds will be imperfect. So, again, when
deeds are imperfect, propriety and harmony cannot prevail, and when
this is the case laws relating to crime will fail in their aim; and if
these last so fail, the people will not know where to set hand or
foot. Hence, a man of superior mind, certain first of his terms, is
fitted to speak; and being certain of what he says can proceed upon
it. In the language of such a person there is nothing heedlessly
irregular--and that is the sum of the matter."

Fan Ch‘i requested that he might learn something of husbandry. "For
that," said the Master, "I am not equal to an old husbandman." Might
he then learn something of gardening? he asked. "I am not equal to an
old gardener," was the reply.

"A man of little mind, that!" said the Master, when Fan Ch‘i had
gone out. "Let a man who is set over the people love propriety, and
they will not presume to be disrespectful. Let him be a lover of
righteousness, and they will not presume to be aught but submissive.
Let him love faithfulness and truth, and they will not presume not to
lend him their hearty assistance. Ah, if all this only were so, the
people from all sides would come to such a one, carrying their
children on their backs. What need to turn his hand to husbandry?

"Though a man," said he, "could hum through the Odes--the three
hundred--yet should show himself unskilled when given some
administrative work to do for his country; though he might know much
of that other lore, yet if, when sent on a mission to any quarter, he
could answer no question personally and unaided, what after all is he
good for?

"Let a leader," said he, "show rectitude in his own personal character,
and even without directions from him things will go well. If he be not
personally upright, his directions will not be complied with."

Once he made the remark, "The governments of Lu and of Wei are in
brotherhood."

Of King, a son of the Duke of Wei, he observed that "he managed his
household matters well. On his coming into possession, he thought,
'What a strange conglomeration!'--Coming to possess a little more, it
was, 'Strange, such a result!' And when he became wealthy, 'Strange,
such elegance!'"

The Master was on a journey to Wei, and Yen Yu was driving him. "What
multitudes of people!" he exclaimed. Yen Yu asked him, "Seeing they
are so numerous, what more would you do for them?"

"Enrich them," replied the Master.

"And after enriching them, what more would you do for them?"

"Instruct them."

"Were any one of our princes to employ me," he said, "after a
twelvemonth I might have made some tolerable progress; but give me
three years, and my work should be done."

Again, "How true is that saying, 'Let good men have the management of
a country for a century, and they would be adequate to cope with
evil-doers, and thus do away with capital punishments.'"

Again, "Suppose the ruler to possess true kingly qualities, then
surely after one generation there would be good-will among men."

Again, "Let a ruler but see to his own rectitude, and what trouble
will he then have in the work before him? If he be unable to rectify
himself, how is he to rectify others?"

Once when Yen Yu was leaving the Court, the Master accosted him. "Why
so late?" he asked. "Busy with legislation," Yen replied. "The details
of it," suggested the Master; "had it been legislation, I should have
been there to hear it, even though I am not in office."

Duke Ting asked if there were one sentence which, if acted upon, might
have the effect of making a country prosperous.

Confucius answered, "A sentence could hardly be supposed to do so much
as that. But there is a proverb people use which says, 'To play the
prince is hard, to play the minister not easy.' Assuming that it is
understood that 'to play the prince is hard,' would it not be probable
that with that one sentence the country should be made to prosper?"

"Is there, then," he asked, "one sentence which, if acted upon, would
have the effect of ruining a country?"

Confucius again replied, "A sentence could hardly be supposed to do so
much as that. But there is a proverb men have which says, 'Not gladly
would I play the prince, unless my words were ne'er withstood.'
Assuming that the words were good, and that none withstood them, would
not that also be good? But assuming that they were not good, and yet
none withstood them, would it not be probable that with that one
saying he would work his country's ruin?"

When the Duke of Sheh consulted him about government, he replied,
"Where the near are gratified, the war will follow."

When Tsz-hiá became governor of Kü-fu, and consulted him about
government, he answered, "Do not wish for speedy results. Do not look
at trivial advantages. If you wish for speedy results, they will not
be far-reaching; and if you regard trivial advantages you will not
successfully deal with important affairs."

The Duke of Sheh in a conversation with Confucius said, "There are
some straightforward persons in my neighborhood. If a father has
stolen a sheep, the son will give evidence against him."

"Straightforward people in my neighborhood are different from those,"
said Confucius. "The father will hold a thing secret on his son's
behalf, and the son does the same for his father. They are on their
way to becoming straightforward."

Fan Ch‘i was asking him about duty to one's fellow-men. "Be
courteous," he replied, "in your private sphere; be serious in any
duty you take in hand to do; be leal-hearted in your intercourse with
others. Even though you were to go amongst the wild tribes, it would
not be right for you to neglect these duties."

In answer to Tsz-kung, who asked, "how he would characterize one who
could fitly be called 'learned official,'" the Master said, "He may be
so-called who in his private life is affected with a sense of his own
unworthiness, and who, when sent on a mission to any quarter of the
empire, would not disgrace his prince's commands."

"May I presume," said his questioner, "to ask what sort you would put
next to such?"

"Him who is spoken of by his kinsmen as a dutiful son, and whom the
folks of his neighborhood call 'good brother.'"

"May I still venture to ask whom you would place next in order?"

"Such as are sure to be true to their word, and effective in their
work--who are given to hammering, as it were, upon one note--of
inferior calibre indeed, but fit enough, I think, to be ranked next."

"How would you describe those who are at present in the government
service?"

"Ugh! mere peck and panier men!--not worth taking into the reckoning."

Once he remarked, "If I cannot get _via media_ men to impart
instruction to, then I must of course take the impetuous and
undisciplined! The impetuous ones will at least go forward and lay
hold on things; and the undisciplined have at least something in them
which needs to be brought out."

"The Southerners," said he, "have the proverb, 'The man who sticks not
to rule will never make a charm-worker or a medical man.'
Good!--'Whoever is intermittent in his practise of virtue will live to
be ashamed of it.' Without prognostication," he added, "that will
indeed be so."

"The nobler-minded man," he remarked, "will be agreeable even when he
disagrees; the small-minded man will agree and be disagreeable."

Tsz-kung was consulting him, and asked, "What say you of a person who
was liked by all in his village?"

"That will scarcely do," he answered.

"What, then, if they all disliked him?"

"That, too," said he, "is scarcely enough. Better if he were liked by
the good folk in the village, and disliked by the bad."

"The superior man," he once observed, "is easy to serve, but difficult
to please. Try to please him by the adoption of wrong principles, and
you will fail. Also, when such a one employs others, he uses them
according to their capacity. The inferior man is, on the other hand,
difficult to serve, but easy to please. Try to please him by the
adoption of wrong principles, and you will succeed. And when he
employs others he requires them to be fully prepared for everything."

Again, "The superior man can be high without being haughty. The
inferior man can be haughty if not high."

"The firm, the unflinching, the plain and simple, the slow to speak,"
said he once, "are approximating towards their duty to their
fellow-men."

Tsz-lu asked how he would characterize one who might fitly be called
an educated gentleman. The master replied, "He who can properly be
so-called will have in him a seriousness of purpose, a habit of
controlling himself, and an agreeableness of manner: among his friends
and associates the seriousness and the self-control, and among his
brethren the agreeableness of manner."

"Let good and able men discipline the people for seven years," said
the Master, "and after that they may do to go to war."

But, said he, "To lead an undisciplined people to war--that I call
throwing them away."




BOOK XIV

_Good and Bad Government--Miscellaneous Sayings_


Yuen Sz asked what might be considered to bring shame on one.

"Pay," said the Master; "pay--ever looking to that, whether the
country be well or badly governed."

"When imperiousness, boastfulness, resentments, and covetousness cease
to prevail among the people, may it be considered that mutual
good-will has been effected?" To this question the Master replied, "A
hard thing overcome, it may be considered. But as to the mutual
good-will--I cannot tell."

"Learned officials," said he, "who hanker after a home life, are not
worthy of being esteemed as such."

Again, "In a country under good government, speak boldly, act boldly.
When the land is ill-governed, though you act boldly, let your words
be moderate."

Again, "Men of virtue will needs be men of words--will speak out--but
men of words are not necessarily men of virtue. They who care for
their fellow-men will needs be bold, but the bold may not necessarily
be such as care for their fellow-men."

Nan-kung Kwoh, who was consulting Confucius, observed respecting I,
the skilful archer, and Ngau, who could propel a boat on dry land,
that neither of them died a natural death; while Yu and Tsih, who with
their own hands had labored at husbandry, came to wield imperial sway.

The Master gave him no reply. But when the speaker had gone out he
exclaimed, "A superior man, that! A man who values virtue, that!"

"There have been noble-minded men," said he, "who yet were wanting in
philanthropy; but never has there been a small-minded man who had
philanthropy in him."

He asked, "Can any one refuse to toil for those he loves? Can any one
refuse to exhort, who is true-hearted?"

Speaking of the preparation of Government Notifications in his day he
said, "P‘i would draw up a rough sketch of what was to be said; the
Shishuh then looked it carefully through and put it into proper shape;
Tsz-yu next, who was master of the ceremonial of State intercourse,
improved and adorned its phrases; and Tsz-ch‘an of Tung-li added his
scholarly embellishments thereto."

To some one who asked his opinion of the last-named, he said, "He was
a kind-hearted man." Asked what he thought of Tsz-si, he exclaimed,
"Alas for him! alas for him!"--Asked again about Kwan Chung, his
answer was, "As to him, he once seized the town of P‘in with its
three hundred families from the Chief of the Pih clan, who, afterwards
reduced to living upon coarse rice, with all his teeth gone, never
uttered a word of complaint."

"It is no light thing," said he, "to endure poverty uncomplainingly;
and a difficult thing to bear wealth without becoming arrogant."

Respecting Mang Kung-ch‘oh, he said that, while he was fitted for
something better than the post of chief officer in the Cháu or Wei
families, he was not competent to act as minister in small States like
those of T‘ang or Sieh.

Tsz-lu asked how he would describe a perfect man. He replied, "Let a
man have the sagacity of Tsang Wu-chung, the freedom from covetousness
of Kung-ch‘oh, the boldness of Chwang of P‘in, and the attainments
in polite arts of Yen Yu; and gift him further with the graces taught
by the 'Books of Rites' and 'Music'--then he may be considered a
perfect man. But," said he, "what need of such in these days? The man
that may be regarded as perfect now is the one who, seeing some
advantage to himself, is mindful of righteousness; who, seeing danger,
risks his life; and who, if bound by some covenant of long standing,
never forgets its conditions as life goes on."

Respecting Kung-shuh Wan, the Master inquired of Kung-ming Kiá,
saying, "Is it true that your master never speaks, never laughs, never
takes aught from others?"

"Those who told you that of him," said he, "have gone too far. My
master speaks when there is occasion to do so, and men are not
surfeited with his speaking. When there is occasion to be merry too,
he will laugh, but men have never over much of his laughing. And
whenever it is just and right to take things from others, he will take
them, but never so as to allow men to think him burdensome." "Is that
the case with him?" said the Master. "Can it be so?"

Respecting Tsang Wu-chung the Master said, "When he sought from Lu the
appointment of a successor to him, and for this object held on to his
possession of the fortified city of Fang--if you say he was not then
using constraint towards his prince, I must refuse to believe it."

Duke Wan of Tsin he characterized as "artful but not upright"; and
Duke Hwan of Ts'i as "upright but not artful."

Tsz-lu remarked, "When Duke Hwan caused his brother Kiu to be put to
death, Shau Hwuh committed suicide, but Kwan Chung did not. I should
say he was not a man who had much good-will in him--eh?"

The Master replied, "When Duke Hwan held a great gathering of the
feudal lords, dispensing with military equipage, it was owing to Kwan
Chung's energy that such an event was brought about. Match such
good-will as that--match it if you can."

Tsz-kung then spoke up. "But was not Kwan Chung wanting in good-will?
He could not give up his life when Duke Hwan caused his brother to be
put to death. Besides, he became the duke's counsellor."

"And in acting as his counsellor put him at the head of all the feudal
lords," said the Master, "and unified and reformed the whole empire;
and the people, even to this day, reap benefit from what he did. Had
it not been for him we should have been going about with locks unkempt
and buttoning our jackets (like barbarians) on the left. Would you
suppose that he should show the same sort of attachment as exists
between a poor yokel and his one wife--that he would asphyxiate
himself in some sewer, leaving no one the wiser?"

Kung-shuh Wan's steward, who became the high officer Sien, went up
accompanied by Wan to the prince's hall of audience.

When Confucius heard of this he remarked, "He may well be esteemed a
'Wan.'"

The Master having made some reference to the lawless ways of Duke Ling
of Wei, Ki K‘ang said to him, "If he be like that, how is it he does
not ruin his position?"

Confucius answered, "The Chung-shuh, Yu, is charged with the
entertainment of visitors and strangers; the priest T‘o has charge
of the ancestral temple; and Wang-sun Kiá has the control of the army
and its divisions:--with men such as those, how should he come to ruin?"

He once remarked, "He who is unblushing in his words will with
difficulty substantiate them."

Ch‘in Shing had slain Duke Kien. Hearing of this, Confucius, after
performing his ablutions, went to Court and announced the news to Duke
Ngai, saying, "Ch‘in Shing has slain his prince. May I request that
you proceed against him?"

"Inform the Chiefs of the Three Families," said the duke.

Soliloquizing upon this, Confucius said, "Since he uses me to back his
ministers,[30] I did not dare not to announce the matter to him; and
now he says, 'Inform the Three Chiefs.'"

He went to the Three Chiefs and informed them, but nothing could be
done. Whereupon again he said, "Since he uses me to back his
ministers, I did not dare not to announce the matter."

Tsz-lu was questioning him as to how he should serve his prince.
"Deceive him not, but reprove him," he answered.

"The minds of superior men," he observed, "trend upwards; those of
inferior men trend downwards."

Again, "Students of old fixed their eyes upon themselves: now they
learn with their eyes upon others."

Kü Pih-yuh despatched a man with a message to Confucius. Confucius
gave him a seat, and among other inquiries he asked, "How is your
master managing?" "My master," he replied, "has a great wish to be
seldom at fault, and as yet he cannot manage it."

"What a messenger!" exclaimed he, admiringly, when the man went out.
"What a messenger!"

"When not occupying the office," was a remark of his, "devise not the
policy."

The Learned Tsang used to say, "The thoughts of the 'superior man' do
not wander from his own office."

"Superior men," said the Master, "are modest in their words, profuse
in their deeds."

Again, "There are three attainments of the superior man which are
beyond me--the being sympathetic without anxiety, wise without
scepticism, brave without fear."

"Sir," said Tsz-kung, "that is what you say of yourself."

Whenever Tsz-kung drew comparisons from others, the Master would say,
"Ah, how wise and great you must have become! Now I have no time to do
that."

Again, "My great concern is, not that men do not know me, but that
they cannot."

Again, "If a man refrain from making preparations against his being
imposed upon, and from counting upon others' want of good faith
towards him, while he is foremost to perceive what is passing--surely
that is a wise and good man."

Wi-shang Mau accosted Confucius, saying, "Kiu, how comes it that you
manage to go perching and roosting in this way? Is it not because you
show yourself so smart a speaker, now?"

"I should not dare do that," said Confucius. "'Tis that I am sick of
men's immovableness and deafness to reason."

"In a well-bred horse," said he, "what one admires is not its speed,
but its good points."

Some one asked, "What say you of the remark, 'Requite enmity with
kindness'?"

"How then," he answered, "would you requite kindness? Requite enmity
with straightforwardness, and kindness with kindness."

"Ah! no one knows me!" he once exclaimed.

"Sir," said Tsz-kung, "how comes it to pass that no one knows you?"

"While I murmur not against Heaven," continued the Master, "nor cavil
at men; while I stoop to learn and aspire to penetrate into things
that are high; yet 'tis Heaven alone knows what I am."

Liáu, a kinsman of the duke, having laid a complaint against Tsz-lu
before Ki K‘ang, an officer came to Confucius to inform him of the
fact, and he added, "My lord is certainly having his mind poisoned by
his kinsman Liáu, but through my influence perhaps we may yet manage
to see him exposed in the market-place or the Court."

"If right principles are to have their course, it is so destined,"
said the Master; "if they are not to have their course, it is so
destined. What can Liáu do against Destiny?"

"There are worthy men," said the Master, "fleeing from the world; some
from their district; some from the sight of men's looks; some from the
language they hear."

"The men who have risen from their posts and withdrawn in this manner
are seven in number."

Tsz-lu, having lodged overnight in Shih-mun, was accosted by the
gate-keeper in the morning. "Where from?" he asked. "From Confucius,"
Tsz-lu responded. "That is the man," said he, "who knows things are
not up to the mark, and is making some ado about them, is it not?"

When the Master was in Wei, he was once pounding on the musical stone,
when a man with a basket of straw crossed his threshold, and
exclaimed, "Ah, there is a heart that feels! Aye, drub the stone!"
After which he added, "How vulgar! how he hammers away on one
note!--and no one knows him, and he gives up, and all is over!

    'Be it deep, our skirts we'll raise to the waist,
    --Or shallow, then up to the knee.'"

"What determination!" said the Master. "Yet it was not hard to do."

Tsz-chang once said to him, "In the 'Book of the Annals' it is stated
that while Káu-tsung was in the Mourning Shed he spent the three years
without speaking. What is meant by that?"

"Why must you name Káu-tsung?" said the Master. "It was so with all
other ancient sovereigns: when one of them died, the heads of every
department agreed between themselves that they should give ear for
three years to the Prime Minister."

"When their betters love the Rules, then the folk are easy tools," was
a saying of the Master.

Tsz-lu having asked what made a "superior man," he answered,
"Self-culture, with a view to becoming seriously-minded."

"Nothing more than that?" said he.

"Self-culture with a view to the greater satisfaction of others,"
added the Master.

"That, and yet no more?"

"Self-culture with a view to the greater satisfaction of all the clans
and classes," he again added. "Self-culture for the sake of all--a
result that, that would almost put Yau and Shun into the shade!"

To Yuen Jang,[31] who was sitting waiting for him in a squatting
(disrespectful) posture, the Master delivered himself as follows: "The
man who in his youth could show no humility or subordination, who in
his prime misses his opportunity, and who when old age comes upon him
will not die--that man is a miscreant." And he tapped him on the shin
with his staff.

Some one asked about his attendant--a youth from the village of
Kiueh--whether he was one who improved. He replied, "I note that he
seats himself in the places reserved for his betters, and that when he
is walking he keeps abreast with his seniors. He is not one of those
who care for improvement: he wants to be a man all at once."

[Footnote 30: Confucius had now retired from office, and this incident
occurred only two years before his death.]

[Footnote 31: It is a habit with the Chinese, when a number are out
walking together, for the eldest to go first, the others pairing off
according to their age. It is a custom much older than the time of
Confucius.]




BOOK XV

_Practical Wisdom--Reciprocity the Rule of Life_


Duke Ling of Wei was consulting Confucius about army arrangements. His
answer was, "Had you asked me about such things as temple requisites,
I have learnt that business, but I have not yet studied military
matters." And he followed up this reply by leaving on the following day.

After this, during his residence in the State of Ch‘in, his
followers, owing to a stoppage of food supply, became so weak and ill
that not one of them could stand. Tsz-lu, with indignation pictured on
his countenance, exclaimed, "And is a gentleman to suffer starvation?"

"A gentleman," replied the Master, "will endure it unmoved, but a
common person breaks out into excesses under it."

Addressing Tsz-kung, the Master said, "You regard me as one who
studies and stores up in his mind a multiplicity of things--do you
not?"--"I do," he replied; "is it not so?"--"Not at all. I have one
idea--one cord on which to string all."

To Tsz-lu he remarked, "They who know Virtue are rare."

"If you would know one who without effort ruled well, was not Shun
such a one? What did he indeed do? He bore himself with reverent
dignity and undeviatingly 'faced the south,' and that was all."

Tsz-chang was consulting him about making way in life. He answered,
"Be true and honest in all you say, and seriously earnest in all you
do, and then, even if your country be one inhabited by barbarians,
South or North, you will make your way. If you do not show yourself
thus in word and deed how should you succeed, even in your own
district or neighborhood?--When you are afoot, let these two counsels
be two companions preceding you, yourself viewing them from behind;
when you drive, have them in view as on the yoke of your carriage.
Then may you make your way."

Tsz-chang wrote them on the two ends of his cincture.

"Straight was the course of the Annalist Yu," said the Master--"aye,
straight as an arrow flies; were the country well governed or ill
governed, his was an arrow-like course.

"A man of masterly mind, too, is Kü Pih-yuh! When the land is being
rightly governed he will serve; when it is under bad government he is
apt to recoil, and brood."

"Not to speak to a man," said he, "to whom you ought to speak, is to
lose your man; to speak to one to whom you ought not to speak is to
lose your words. Those who are wise will not lose their man, nor yet
their words."

Again, "The scholar whose heart is in his work, and who is
philanthropic, seeks not to gain a livelihood by any means that will
do harm to his philanthropy. There have been men who have destroyed
their own lives in the endeavor to bring that virtue in them to
perfection."

Tsz-kung asked how to become philanthropic. The Master answered him
thus: "A workman who wants to do his work well must first sharpen his
tools. In whatever land you live, serve under some wise and good man
among those in high office, and make friends with the more humane of
its men of education."

Yen Yuen consulted him on the management of a country. He answered:--

"Go by the Hiá Calendar. Have the State carriages like those of the
Yin princes. Wear the Chow cap. For your music let that of Shun be
used for the posturers. Put away the songs of Ch‘ing, and remove far
from you men of artful speech: the Ch‘ing songs are immodest, and
artful talkers are dangerous."

Other sayings of the Master:--

"They who care not for the morrow will the sooner have their sorrow.

"Ah, 'tis hopeless! I have not yet met with the man who loves Virtue
as he loves Beauty.

"Was not Tsang Wan like one who surreptitiously came by the post he
held? He knew the worth of Hwúi of Liu-hiá, and could not stand in his
presence.

"Be generous yourself, and exact little from others; then you banish
complaints.

"With one who does not come to me inquiring 'What of this?' and 'What
of that?' I never can ask 'What of this?' and give him up.

"If a number of students are all day together, and in their
conversation never approach the subject of righteousness, but are fond
merely of giving currency to smart little sayings, they are difficult
indeed to manage.

"When the 'superior man' regards righteousness as the thing material,
gives operation to it according to the Rules of Propriety, lets it
issue in humility, and become complete in sincerity--there indeed is
your superior man!

"The trouble of the superior man will be his own want of ability: it
will be no trouble to him that others do not know him.

"Such a man thinks it hard to end his days and leave a name to be no
longer named.

"The superior man is exacting of himself; the common man is exacting
of others.

"A superior man has self-respect, and does not strive; is sociable,
yet no party man.

"He does not promote a man because of his words, or pass over the
words because of the man."

Tsz-kung put to him the question, "Is there one word upon which the
whole life may proceed?"

The Master replied, "Is not Reciprocity such a word?--what you do not
yourself desire, do not put before others."

"So far as I have to do with others, whom do I over-censure? whom do I
over-praise? If there be something in them that looks very
praiseworthy, that something I put to the test. I would have the men
of the present day to walk in the straight path whereby those of the
Three Dynasties have walked.

"I have arrived as it were at the annalist's blank page.--Once he who
had a horse would lend it to another to mount; now, alas! it is not so.

"Artful speech is the confusion of Virtue. Impatience over little
things introduces confusion into great schemes.

"What is disliked by the masses needs inquiring into; so also does
that which they have a preference for.

"A man may give breadth to his principles: it is not principles (in
themselves) that give breadth to the man.

"Not to retract after committing an error may itself be called error.

"If I have passed the whole day without food and the whole night
without sleep, occupied with my thoughts, it profits me nothing: I
were better engaged in learning.

"The superior man deliberates upon how he may walk in truth, not upon
what he may eat. The farmer may plough, and be on the way to want: the
student learns, and is on his way to emolument. To live a right life
is the concern of men of nobler minds: poverty gives them none.

"Whatsoever the intellect may attain to, unless the humanity within is
powerful enough to keep guard over it, is assuredly lost, even though
it be gained.

"If there be intellectual attainments, and the humanity within is
powerful enough to keep guard over them, yet, unless (in a ruler)
there be dignity in his rule, the people will fail to show him respect.

"Again, given the intellectual attainments, and humanity sufficient to
keep watch over them, and also dignity in ruling, yet if his movements
be not in accordance with the Rules of Propriety, he is not yet fully
qualified.

"The superior man may not be conversant with petty details, and yet
may have important matters put into his hands. The inferior man may
not be charged with important matters, yet may be conversant with the
petty details.

"Good-fellowship is more to men than fire and water. I have seen men
stepping into fire and into water, and meeting with death thereby; I
have not yet seen a man die from planting his steps in the path of
good-fellowship.

"Rely upon good nature. 'Twill not allow precedence even to a teacher.

"The superior man is inflexibly upright, and takes not things upon
trust.

"In serving your prince, make your service the serious concern, and
let salary be a secondary matter.

"Where instruction is to be given, there must be no distinction of
persons.

"Where men's methods are not identical, there can be no planning by
one on behalf of another.

"In speaking, perspicuity is all that is needed."

When the blind music-master Mien paid him a visit, on his approaching
the steps the Master called out "Steps," and on his coming to the mat,
said "Mat." When all in the room were seated, the Master told him
"So-and-so is here, so-and-so is here."

When the music-master had left, Tsz-chang said to him, "Is that the
way to speak to the music-master?" "Well," he replied, "it is
certainly the way to assist him."




BOOK XVI

_Against Intestine Strife--Good and Bad Friendships_


The Chief of the Ki family was about to make an onslaught upon the
Chuen-yu domain.

Yen Yu and Tsz-lu in an interview with Confucius told him, "The Ki is
about to have an affair with Chuen-yu."

"Yen," said Confucius, "does not the fault lie with you? The Chief of
Chuen-yu in times past was appointed lord of the East Mung (mountain);
besides, he dwells within the confines of your own State, and is an
official of the State-worship; how can you think of making an
onslaught upon him?"

"It is the wish of our Chief," said Yen Yu, "not the wish of either of
us ministers."

Confucius said, "Yen, there is a sentence of Cháu Jin which runs thus:
'Having made manifest their powers and taken their place in the
official list, when they find themselves incompetent they resign; if
they cannot be firm when danger threatens the government, nor lend
support when it is reeling, of what use then shall they be as
Assistants?'--Besides, you are wrong in what you said. When a
rhinoceros or tiger breaks out of its cage--when a jewel or
tortoise-shell ornament is damaged in its casket--whose fault is it?"

"But," said Yen Yu, "so far as Chuen-yu is concerned, it is now
fortified, and it is close to Pi; and if he does not now take it, in
another generation it will certainly be a trouble to his descendants."

"Yen!" exclaimed Confucius, "it is a painful thing to a superior man
to have to desist from saying, 'My wish is so-and-so,' and to be
obliged to make apologies. For my part, I have learnt this--that
rulers of States and heads of Houses are not greatly concerned about
their small following, but about the want of equilibrium in it--that
they do not concern themselves about their becoming poor, but about
the best means of living quietly and contentedly; for where
equilibrium is preserved there will be no poverty, where there is
harmony their following will not be small, and where there is quiet
contentment there will be no decline nor fall. Now if that be the
case, it follows that if men in outlying districts are not submissive,
then a reform in education and morals will bring them to; and when
they have been so won, then will you render them quiet and contented.
At the present time you two are Assistants of your Chief; the people
in the outlying districts are not submissive, and cannot be brought
round. Your dominion is divided, prostrate, dispersed, cleft in
pieces, and you as its guardians are powerless. And plans are being
made for taking up arms against those who dwell within your own State.
I am apprehensive that the sorrow of the Ki family is not to lie in
Chuen-yu, but in those within their own screen."

"When the empire is well-ordered," said Confucius, "it is from the
emperor that edicts regarding ceremonial, music, and expeditions to
quell rebellion go forth. When it is being ill governed, such edicts
emanate from the feudal lords; and when the latter is the case, it
will be strange if in ten generations there is not a collapse. If they
emanate merely from the high officials, it will be strange if the
collapse do not come in five generations. When the State-edicts are in
the hands of the subsidiary ministers, it will be strange if in three
generations there is no collapse.

"When the empire is well-ordered, government is not left in the hands
of high officials.

"When the empire is well-ordered, the common people will cease to
discuss public matters."

"For five generations," he said, "the revenue has departed from the
ducal household. Four generations ago the government fell into the
hands of the high officials. Hence, alas! the straitened means of the
descendants of the three Hwan families."

"There are," said he, "three kinds of friendships which are
profitable, and three which are detrimental. To make friends with the
upright, with the trustworthy, with the experienced, is to gain
benefit; to make friends with the subtly perverse, with the artfully
pliant, with the subtle in speech, is detrimental."

Again, "There are three kinds of pleasure which are profitable, and
three which are detrimental. To take pleasure in going regularly
through the various branches of Ceremonial and Music, in speaking of
others' goodness, in having many worthy wise friends, is profitable.
To take pleasure in wild bold pleasures, in idling carelessly about,
in the too jovial accompaniments of feasting, is detrimental."

Again, "Three errors there be, into which they who wait upon their
superior may fall:--(1) to speak before the opportunity comes to them
to speak, which I call heedless haste; (2) refraining from speaking
when the opportunity has come, which I call concealment; and (3)
speaking, regardless of the mood he is in, which I call blindness."

Again, "Three things a superior should guard against:--(1) against the
lusts of the flesh in his earlier years while the vital powers are not
fully developed and fixed; (2) against the spirit of combativeness
when he has come to the age of robust manhood and when the vital
powers are matured and strong, and (3) against ambitiousness when old
age has come on and the vital powers have become weak and decayed."

"Three things also such a man greatly reveres:--(1) the ordinances of
Heaven, (2) great men, (3) words of sages. The inferior man knows not
the ordinances of Heaven and therefore reveres them not, is unduly
familiar in the presence of great men, and scoffs at the words of
sages."

"They whose knowledge comes by birth are of all men the first in
understanding; they to whom it comes by study are next; men of poor
intelectual capacity, who yet study, may be added as a yet inferior
class; and lowest of all are they who are poor in intellect and never
learn."

"Nine things there are of which the superior man should be
mindful:--to be clear in vision, quick in hearing, genial in
expression, respectful in demeanor, true in word, serious in duty,
inquiring in doubt, firmly self-controlled in anger, just and fair
when the way to success opens out before him."

"Some have spoken of 'looking upon goodness as upon something beyond
their reach,' and of 'looking upon evil as like plunging one's hands
into scalding liquid';--I have seen the men, I have heard the sayings.

"Some, again, have talked of 'living in seclusion to work out their
designs,' and of 'exercising themselves in righteous living in order
to render their principles the more effective';--I have heard the
sayings, I have not seen the men."

"Duke King of Ts‘i had his thousand teams of four, yet on the day of
his death the people had nothing to say of his goodness. Peh-I and
Shuh-Ts‘i starved at the foot of Shau-yang, and the people make
mention of them to this day.

    'E'en if not wealth thine object be,
    'Tis all the same, thou'rt changed to me.'

"Is not this apropos in such cases?"

Tsz-k‘in asked of Pih-yu, "Have you heard anything else peculiar
from your father?"

"Not yet," said he. "Once, though, he was standing alone when I was
hurrying past him over the vestibule, and he said, 'Are you studying the
Odes?' 'Not yet,' I replied. 'If you do not learn the Odes,' said he,
'you will not have the wherewithal for conversing.' I turned away and
studied the Odes. Another day, when he was again standing alone and I
was hurrying past across the vestibule, he said to me, 'Are you learning
the Rules of Propriety?' 'Not yet,' I replied. 'If you have not studied
the Rules, you have nothing to stand upon,' said he. I turned away and
studied the Rules.--These two things I have heard from him."

Tsz-k‘in turned away, and in great glee exclaimed, "I asked one
thing, and have got three. I have learnt something about the Odes, and
about the Rules, and moreover I have learnt how the superior man will
turn away his own son."

The wife of the ruler of a State is called by her husband "My
helpmeet." She speaks of herself as "Your little handmaiden." The
people of that State call her "The prince's helpmeet," but addressing
persons of another State they speak of her as "Our little princess."
When persons of another State name her they say also "Your prince's
helpmeet."




BOOK XVII

_The Master Induced to Take Office--Nature and Habit_


Yang Ho was desirous of having an interview with Confucius, but on the
latter's failing to go and see him, he sent a present of a pig to his
house. Confucius went to return his acknowledgments for it at a time
when he was not at home. They met, however, on the way.

He said to Confucius, "Come, I want a word with you. Can that man be
said to have good-will towards his fellow-men who hugs and hides his
own precious gifts and allows his country to go on in blind error?"

"He cannot," was the reply.

"And can he be said to be wise who, with a liking for taking part in
the public service, is constantly letting slip his opportunities?"

"He cannot," was the reply again.

"And the days and months are passing; and the years do not wait for
us."

"True," said Confucius; "I will take office."

It was a remark of the Master that while "by nature we approximate
towards each other, by experience we go far asunder."

Again, "Only the supremely wise and the most deeply ignorant do not
alter."

The Master once, on his arrival at Wu-shing, heard the sound of
stringed instruments and singing. His face beamed with pleasure, and
he said laughingly, "To kill a cock--why use an ox-knife?"

Tsz-yu, the governor, replied, "In former days, sir, I heard you say,
'Let the superior man learn right principles, and he will be loving to
other men; let the ordinary person learn right principles, and he will
be easily managed.'"

The Master (turning to his disciples) said, "Sirs, what he says is
right: what I said just now was only in play."

Having received an invitation from Kung-shan Fuh-jau, who was in
revolt against the government and was holding to his district of Pi,
the Master showed an inclination to go.

Tsz-lu was averse to this, and said, "You can never go, that is
certain; how should you feel you must go to that person?"

"Well," said the Master, "he who has invited me must surely not have
done so without a sufficient reason! And if it should happen that my
services were enlisted, I might create for him another East
Chow--don't you think so?"

Tsz-chang asked Confucius about the virtue of philanthropy. His answer
was, "It is the being able to put in practice five qualities, in any
place under the sun."

"May I ask, please, what these are?" said the disciple.

"They are," he said, "dignity, indulgence, faithfulness, earnestness,
kindness. If you show dignity you will not be mocked; if you are
indulgent you will win the multitude; if faithful, men will place
their trust in you; if earnest, you will do something meritorious; and
if kind, you will be enabled to avail yourself amply of men's
services."

Pih Hih sent the Master an invitation, and he showed an inclination to
go.

Tsz-lu (seeing this) said to him, "In former days, sir, I have heard
you say, 'A superior man will not enter the society of one who does
not that which is good in matters concerning himself; and this man is
in revolt, with Chung-mau in his possession; if you go to him, how
will the case stand?"

"Yes," said the Master, "those are indeed my words; but is it not
said, 'What is hard may be rubbed without being made thin,' and
'White may be stained without being made black'?--I am surely not a
gourd! How am I to be strung up like that kind of thing--and live
without means?"

"Tsz-lu," said the Master, "you have heard of the six words with their
six obfuscations?"

"No," said he, "not so far."

"Sit down, and I will tell you them. They are these six virtues, cared
for without care for any study about them:--philanthropy, wisdom,
faithfulness, straightforwardness, courage, firmness. And the six
obfuscations resulting from not liking to learn about them are,
respectively, these:--fatuity, mental dissipation, mischievousness,
perversity, insubordination, impetuosity."

"My children," said he once, "why does no one of you study the
Odes?--They are adapted to rouse the mind, to assist observation, to
make people sociable, to arouse virtuous indignation. They speak of
duties near and far--the duty of ministering to a parent, the duty of
serving one's prince; and it is from them that one becomes conversant
with the names of many birds, and beasts, and plants, and trees."

To his son Pih-yu he said, "Study you the Odes of Chow and the South,
and those of Sháu and the South. The man who studies not these is, I
should say, somewhat in the position of one who stands facing a wall!"

"'Etiquette demands it.' 'Etiquette demands it,' so people plead,"
said he; "but do not these hankerings after jewels and silks indeed
demand it? Or it is, 'The study of Music requires it'--'Music requires
it'; but do not these predilections for bells and drums require it?"

Again, "They who assume an outward appearance of severity, being
inwardly weak, may be likened to low common men; nay, are they not
somewhat like thieves that break through walls and steal?"

Again, "The plebeian kind of respect for piety is the very pest of
virtue."

Again, "Listening on the road, and repeating in the lane--this is
abandonment of virtue."

"Ah, the low-minded creatures!" he exclaimed. "How is it possible
indeed to serve one's prince in their company? Before they have got
what they wanted they are all anxiety to get it, and after they have
got it they are all anxiety lest they should lose it; and while they
are thus full of concern lest they should lose it, there is no length
to which they will not go."

Again, "In olden times people had three moral infirmities; which, it
may be, are now unknown. Ambitiousness in those olden days showed
itself in momentary outburst; the ambitiousness of to-day runs riot.
Austerity in those days had its sharp angles; in these it is irritable
and perverse. Feebleness of intellect then was at least
straightforward; in our day it is never aught but deceitful."

Again, "Rarely do we find mutual good feeling where there is fine
speech and studied mien."

Again, "To me it is abhorrent that purple color should be made to
detract from that of vermilion. Also that the Odes of Ch‘ing should
be allowed to introduce discord in connection with the music of the
Festal Songs and Hymns. Also that sharp-whetted tongues should be
permitted to subvert governments."

Once said he, "Would that I could dispense with speech!"

"Sir," said Tsz-kung, "if you were never to speak, what should your
pupils have to hand down from you?"

"Does Heaven ever speak?" said the Master. "The four seasons come and
go, and all creatures live and grow. Does Heaven indeed speak?"

Once Ju Pi desired an interview with Confucius, from which the latter
excused himself on the score of ill-health; but while the attendant
was passing out through the doorway with the message he took his lute
and sang, in such a way as to let him hear him.

Tsai Wo questioned him respecting the three years' mourning, saying
that one full twelve-month was a long time--that, if gentlemen were
for three years to cease from observing rules of propriety, propriety
must certainly suffer, and that if for three years they neglected
music, music must certainly die out--and that seeing nature has taught
us that when the old year's grain is finished the new has sprung up
for us--seeing also that all the changes[32] in procuring fire by
friction have been gone through in the four seasons--surely a
twelve-month might suffice.

The Master asked him, "Would it be a satisfaction to you--that
returning to better food, that putting on of fine clothes?"

"It would," said he.

"Then if you can be satisfied in so doing, do so. But to a gentleman,
who is in mourning for a parent, the choicest food will not be
palatable, nor will the listening to music be pleasant, nor will
comforts of home make him happy in mind. Hence he does not do as you
suggest. But if you are now happy in your mind, then do so."

Tsai Wo went out. And the Master went on to say, "It is want of human
feeling in this man. After a child has lived three years it then breaks
away from the tender nursing of its parents. And this three years'
mourning is the customary mourning prevalent all over the empire. Can
this man have enjoyed the three years of loving care from his parents?"

"Ah, it is difficult," said he, "to know what to make of those who are
all day long cramming themselves with food and are without anything
to apply their minds to! Are there no dice and chess players? Better,
perhaps, join in that pursuit than do nothing at all!"

"Does a gentleman," asked Tsz-lu, "make much account of bravery?"

"Righteousness he counts higher," said the Master. "A gentleman who is
brave without being just may become turbulent; while a common person
who is brave and not just may end in becoming a highwayman."

Tsz-kung asked, "I suppose a gentleman will have his aversions as well
as his likings?"

"Yes," replied the Master, "he will dislike those who talk much about
other people's ill-deeds. He will dislike those who, when occupying
inferior places, utter defamatory words against their superiors. He
will dislike those who, though they may be brave, have no regard for
propriety. And he will dislike those hastily decisive and venturesome
spirits who are nevertheless so hampered by limited intellect."

"And you, too, Tsz-kung," he continued, "have your aversions, have you
not?"

"I dislike," said he, "those plagiarists who wish to pass for wise
persons. I dislike those people who wish their lack of humility to be
taken for bravery. I dislike also those divulgers of secrets who think
to be accounted straightforward."

"Of all others," said the Master, "women-servants and men-servants are
the most difficult people to have the care of. Approach them in a
familiar manner, and they take liberties; keep them at a distance, and
they grumble."

Again, "When a man meets with odium at forty, he will do so to the end."

[Footnote 32: Different woods were adopted for this purpose at the
various seasons.]




BOOK XVIII

_Good Men in Seclusion--Duke of Chow to His Son_


"In the reign of the last king of the Yin dynasty," Confucius said,
"there were three men of philanthropic spirit:--the viscount of Wei,
who withdrew from him; the viscount of Ki, who became his bondsman;
and Pi-kan, who reproved him and suffered death."

Hwúi of Liu-hiá, who filled the office of Chief Criminal Judge, was
thrice dismissed. A person remarked to him, "Can you not yet bear to
withdraw?" He replied, "If I act in a straightforward way in serving
men, whither in these days should I go, where I should not be thrice
dismissed? Were I to adopt crooked ways in their service, why need I
leave the land where my parents dwell?"

Duke King of Ts‘i remarked respecting his attitude towards Confucius,
"If he is to be treated like the Chief of the Ki family, I cannot do it.
I should treat him as somewhere between the Ki and Mang Chiefs.--I am
old," he added, "and not competent to avail myself of him."

Confucius, hearing of this, went away.

The Ts‘i officials presented to the Court of Lu a number of female
musicians. Ki Hwan accepted them, and for three days no Court was held.

Confucius went away.

Tsieh-yu, the madman[33] of Ts‘u, was once passing Confucius,
singing as he went along. He sang--

    "Ha, the phœnix! Ha, the phœnix!
    How is Virtue lying prone!
    Vain to chide for what is o'er,
    Plan to meet what's yet in store.
    Let alone! Let alone!
    Risky now to serve a throne."

Confucius alighted, wishing to enter into conversation with him; but
the man hurried along and left him, and he was therefore unable to get
a word with him.

Ch‘ang-tsü and Kieh-nih[34] were working together on some ploughed
land. Confucius was passing by them, and sent Tsz-lu to ask where the
ford was.

Ch‘ang-tsü said, "Who is the person driving the carriage?"

"Confucius," answered Tsz-lu.

"He of Lu?" he asked.

"The same," said Tsz-lu.

"He knows then where the ford is," said he.

Tsz-lu then put his question to Kieh-nih; and the latter asked, "Who
are you?"

Tsz-lu gave his name.

"You are a follower of Confucius of Lu, are you not?"

"You are right," he answered.

"Ah, as these waters rise and overflow their bounds," said he, "'tis
so with all throughout the empire; and who is he that can alter the
state of things? And you are a follower of a learned man who withdraws
from his chief; had you not better be a follower of such as have
forsaken the world?" And he went on with his harrowing, without
stopping.

Tsz-lu went and informed his Master of all this. He was deeply
touched, and said, "One cannot herd on equal terms with beasts and
birds: if I am not to live among these human folk, then with whom else
should I live? Only when the empire is well ordered shall I cease to
take part in the work of reformation."

Tsz-lu was following the Master, but had dropped behind on the way,
when he encountered an old man with a weed-basket slung on a staff
over his shoulder. Tsz-lu inquired of him, "Have you seen my Master,
sir?" Said the old man, "Who is your master?--you who never employ
your four limbs in laborious work; you who do not know one from
another of the five sorts of grain!" And he stuck his staff in the
ground, and began his weeding.

Tsz-lu brought his hands together on his breast and stood still.

The old man kept Tsz-lu and lodged him for the night, killed a fowl
and prepared some millet, entertained him, and brought his two sons
out to see him.

On the morrow Tsz-lu went on his way, and told all this to the Master,
who said, "He is a recluse," and sent Tsz-lu back to see him again.
But by the time he got there he was gone.

Tsz-lu remarked upon this, "It is not right he should evade official
duties. If he cannot allow any neglect of the terms on which elders
and juniors should live together, how is it that he neglects to
conform to what is proper as between prince and public servant? He
wishes for himself personally a pure life, yet creates disorder in
that more important relationship. When a gentleman undertakes public
work, he will carry out the duties proper to it; and he knows
beforehand that right principles may not win their way."

Among those who have retired from public life have been Peh-I and
Shuh-Ts‘i, Yu-chung, I-yih, Chu-chang, Hwúi of Liu-hiá, and
Sháu-lien.

"Of these," said the Master, "Peh-I and Shuh-Ts‘i may be
characterized, I should say, as men who never declined from their
high resolve nor soiled themselves by aught of disgrace.

"Of Hwúi of Liu-hiá and Sháu-lien, if one may say that they did
decline from high resolve, and that they did bring disgrace upon
themselves, yet their words were consonant with established
principles, and their action consonant with men's thoughts and wishes;
and this is all that may be said of them.

"Of Yu-chung and I-yih, if it be said that when they retired into
privacy they let loose their tongues, yet in their aim at personal
purity of life they succeeded, and their defection was also successful
in its influence.

"My own rule is different from any adopted by these: I will take no
liberties, I will have no curtailing of my liberty."

The chief music-master went off to Ts‘i. Kan, the conductor of the
music at the second repast, went over to Ts‘u. Liáu, conductor at
the third repast, went over to Ts‘ai. And Kiueh, who conducted at
the fourth, went to Ts‘in.

Fang-shuh, the drummer, withdrew into the neighborhood of the Ho. Wu
the tambourer went to the Han. And Yang the junior music-master, and
Siang who played on the musical stone, went to the sea-coast.

Anciently the Duke of Chow, addressing his son the Duke of Lu, said,
"A good man in high place is not indifferent about the members of his
own family, and does not give occasion to the chief ministers to
complain that they are not employed; nor without great cause will he
set aside old friendships; nor does he seek for full equipment for
every kind of service in any single man."

There were once eight officials during this Chow dynasty, who were
four pairs of twins, all brothers--the eldest pair Tah and Kwoh, the
next Tuh and Hwuh, the third Yé and Hiá, the youngest Sui and Kwa.

[Footnote 33: He only pretended to be mad, in order to escape being
employed in the public service.]

[Footnote 34: Two worthies who had abandoned public life, owing to the
state of the times.]




BOOK XIX

_Teachings of Various Chief Disciples_


"The learned official," said Tsz-chang, "who when he sees danger ahead
will risk his very life, who when he sees a chance of success is
mindful of what is just and proper, who in his religious acts is
mindful of the duty of reverence, and when in mourning thinks of his
loss, is indeed a fit and proper person for his place."

Again he said, "If a person hold to virtue but never advance in it,
and if he have faith in right principles and do not build himself up
in them, how can he be regarded either as having such, or as being
without them?"

Tsz-hiá's disciples asked Tsz-chang his views about intercourse with
others. "What says your Master?" he rejoined. "He says," they replied,
"'Associate with those who are qualified, and repel from you such as
are not.'" Tsz-chang then said, "That is different from what I have
learnt. A superior man esteems the worthy and wise, and bears with
all. He makes much of the good and capable, and pities the incapable.
Am I eminently worthy and wise?--who is there then among men whom I
will not bear with? Am I not worthy and wise?--others will be minded
to repel me: I have nothing to do with repelling them."

Sayings of Tsz-hiá:--

"Even in inferior pursuits there must be something worthy of
contemplation, but if carried to an extreme there is danger of
fanaticism; hence the superior man does not engage in them.

"The student who daily recognizes how much he yet lacks, and as the
months pass forgets not what he has succeeded in learning, may
undoubtedly be called a lover of learning.

"Wide research and steadfast purpose, eager questioning and close
reflection--all this tends to humanize a man.

"As workmen spend their time in their workshops for the perfecting of
their work, so superior men apply their minds to study in order to
make themselves thoroughly conversant with their subjects.

"When an inferior man does a wrong thing, he is sure to gloss it over.

"The superior man is seen in three different aspects:--look at him
from a distance, he is imposing in appearance; approach him, he is
gentle and warm-hearted; hear him speak, he is acute and strict.

"Let such a man have the people's confidence, and he will get much
work out of them; so long, however, as he does not possess their
confidence they will regard him as grinding them down.

"When confidence is reposed in him, he may then with impunity
administer reproof; so long as it is not, he will be regarded as a
detractor.

"Where there is no over-stepping of barriers in the practice of the
higher virtues, there may be freedom to pass in and out in the
practice of the lower ones."

Tsz-yu had said, "The pupils in the school of Tsz-hiá are good enough
at such things as sprinkling and scrubbing floors, answering calls and
replying to questions from superiors, and advancing and retiring to
and from such; but these things are only offshoots--as to the root of
things they are nowhere. What is the use of all that?"

When this came to the ears of Tsz-hiá, he said, "Ah! there he is
mistaken. What does a master, in his methods of teaching, consider
first in his precepts? And what does he account next, as that about
which he may be indifferent? It is like as in the study of
plants--classification by _differentiæ_. How may a master play fast
and loose in his methods of instruction? Would they not indeed be
sages, who could take in at once the first principles and the final
developments of things?"

Further observations of Tsz-hiá:--

"In the public service devote what energy and time remain to study.
After study devote what energy and time remain to the public service.

"As to the duties of mourning, let them cease when the grief is past.

"My friend Tsz-chang, although he has the ability to tackle hard
things, has not yet the virtue of philanthropy."

The learned Tsang observed, "How loftily Tsz-chang bears himself!
Difficult indeed along with him to practise philanthropy!"

Again he said, "I have heard this said by the Master, that 'though men
may not exert themselves to the utmost in other duties, yet surely in
the duty of mourning for their parents they will do so!'"

Again, "This also I have heard said by the Master: 'The filial piety
of Mang Chwang in other respects might be equalled, but as manifested
in his making no changes among his father's ministers, nor in his
father's mode of government--that aspect of it could not easily be
equalled.'"

Yang Fu, having been made senior Criminal Judge by the Chief of the
Mang clan, consulted with the learned Tsang. The latter advised him as
follows: "For a long time the Chiefs have failed in their government,
and the people have become unsettled. When you arrive at the facts of
their cases, do not rejoice at your success in that, but rather be
sorry for them, and have pity upon them."

Tsz-kung once observed, "We speak of 'the iniquity of Cháu'--but 'twas
not so great as this." And so it is that the superior man is averse
from settling in this sink, into which everything runs that is foul in
the empire.

Again he said, "Faults in a superior man are like eclipses of the sun
or moon: when he is guilty of a trespass men all see it; and when he
is himself again, all look up to him."

Kung-sun Ch‘au of Wei inquired of Tsz-kung how Confucius acquired
his learning.

Tsz-kung replied, "The teachings of Wan and Wu have not yet fallen to
the ground. They exist in men. Worthy and wise men have the more
important of these stored up in their minds; and others, who are not
such, store up the less important of them; and as no one is thus
without the teachings of Wan and Wu, how should our Master not have
learned? And moreover what permanent preceptor could he have?"

Shuh-sun Wu-shuh, addressing the high officials at the Court, remarked
that Tsz-kung was a greater worthy than Confucius.

Tsz-fuh King-pih went and informed Tsz-kung of this remark.

Tsz-kung said, "Take by way of comparison the walls outside our
houses. My wall is shoulder-high, and you may look over it and see
what the house and its contents are worth. My Master's wall is tens of
feet high, and unless you should effect an entrance by the door, you
would fail to behold the beauty of the ancestral hall and the rich
array of all its officers. And they who effect an entrance by the
door, methinks, are few! Was it not, however, just like him--that
remark of the Chief?"

Shuh-sun Wu-shuh had been casting a slur on the character of Confucius.

"No use doing that," said Tsz-kung; "he is irreproachable. The wisdom
and worth of other men are little hills and mounds of earth:
traversible. He is the sun, or the moon, impossible to reach and pass.
And what harm, I ask, can a man do to the sun or the moon, by wishing
to intercept himself from either? It all shows that he knows not how
to gauge capacity."

Tsz-k‘in, addressing Tsz-kung, said, "You depreciate yourself.
Confucius is surely not a greater worthy than yourself."

Tsz-kung replied, "In the use of words one ought never to be
incautious; because a gentleman for one single utterance of his is apt
to be considered a wise man, and for a single utterance may be
accounted unwise. No more might one think of attaining to the Master's
perfections than think of going upstairs to Heaven! Were it ever his
fortune to be at the head of the government of a country, then that
which is spoken of as 'establishing the country' would be
establishment indeed; he would be its guide and it would follow him,
he would tranquillize it and it would render its willing homage: he
would give forward impulses to it to which it would harmoniously
respond. In his life he would be its glory, at his death there would
be great lamentation. How indeed could such as he be equalled?"




BOOK XX

_Extracts from the Book of History_


The Emperor Yau said to Shun, "Ah, upon you, upon your person, lies
the Heaven-appointed order of succession! Faithfully hold to it,
without any deflection; for if within the four seas necessity and want
befall the people, your own revenue will forever come to an end."

Shun also used the same language in handing down the appointment to Yu.

The Emperor T‘ang in his prayer, said, "I, the child Li, presume to
avail me of an ox of dusky hue, and presume to manifestly announce to
Thee, O God, the most high and Sovereign Potentate, that to the
transgressor I dare not grant forgiveness, nor yet keep in abeyance
Thy ministers. Judgment rests in Thine heart, O God. Should we ourself
transgress, may the guilt not be visited everywhere upon all. Should
the people all transgress, be the guilt upon ourself!"

Chow possessed great gifts, by which the able and good were richly
endowed.

"Although," said King Wu, "he is surrounded by his near relatives,
they are not to be compared with men of humane spirit. The people are
suffering wrongs, and the remedy rests with me--the one man."

After Wu had given diligent attention to the various weights and
measures, examined the laws and regulations, and restored the degraded
officials, good government everywhere ensued.

He caused ruined States to flourish again, reinstated intercepted
heirs, and promoted to office men who had gone into retirement; and
the hearts of the people throughout the empire drew towards him.

Among matters of prime consideration with him were these--food for the
people, the duty of mourning, and sacrificial offerings to the departed.

He was liberal and large-hearted, and so won all hearts; true, and so
was trusted by the people; energetic, and thus became a man of great
achievements; just in his rule, and all were well content.

Tsz-chang in a conversation with Confucius asked, "What say you is
essential for the proper conduct of government?"

The Master replied, "Let the ruler hold in high estimation the five
excellences, and eschew the four evils; then may he conduct his
government properly."

"And what call you the five excellences?" he was asked.

"They are," he said, "bounty without extravagance; burdening without
exciting discontent; desire without covetousness; dignity without
haughtiness; show of majesty without fierceness."

"What mean you," asked Tsz-chang, "by bounty without extravagance?"

"Is it not this," he replied--"to make that which is of benefit to the
people still more beneficial? When he selects for them such labors as
it is possible for them to do, and exacts them, who will then
complain? So when his desire is the virtue of humaneness, and he
attains it, how shall he then be covetous? And if--whether he have to
do with few or with many, with small or with great--he do not venture
ever to be careless, is not this also to have dignity without
haughtiness? And if--when properly vested in robe and cap, and showing
dignity in his every look--his appearance be so imposing that the
people look up to and stand in awe of him, is not this moreover to
show majesty without fierceness?"

"What, then, do you call the four evils?" said Tsz-chang.

The answer here was, "Omitting to instruct the people and then
inflicting capital punishment on them--which means cruel tyranny.
Omitting to give them warning and yet looking for perfection in
them--which means oppression. Being slow and late in issuing
requisitions, and exacting strict punctuality in the returns--which
means robbery. And likewise, in intercourse with men, to expend and to
receive in a stingy manner--which is to act the part of a mere
commissioner."

"None can be a superior man," said the Master, "who does not recognize
the decrees of Heaven.

"None can have stability in him without a knowledge of the proprieties.

"None can know a man without knowing his utterances."




THE SAYINGS OF MENCIUS

[_Translated into English by James Legge_]




INTRODUCTION


A hundred years after the time of Confucius the Chinese nation seemed
to have fallen back into their original condition of lawlessness and
oppression. The King's power and authority was laughed to scorn, the
people were pillaged by the feudal nobility, and famine reigned in
many districts. The foundations of truth and social order seemed to be
overthrown. There were teachers of immorality abroad, who published
the old Epicurean doctrine, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we
die." This teaching was accompanied by a spirit of cold-blooded
egotism which extinguished every spark of Confucian altruism. Even the
pretended disciples of Confucius confused the precepts of the Master,
and by stripping them of their narrow significance rendered them
nugatory. It was at this point that Mang-tsze, "Mang the philosopher,"
arose. He was sturdy in bodily frame, vigorous in mind, profound in
political sagacity and utterly fearless in denouncing the errors of
his countrymen. He had been brought up among the disciples of
Confucius, in whose province he was born B.C. 372, but he was much
more active and aggressive, less a Mystic than a fanatic, in
comparison with his Master. He resolved on active measures in stemming
the tendency of his day. He did indeed surround himself with a school
of disciples, but instead of making a series of desultory travels,
teaching in remote places and along the high-road, he went to the
heart of the evil. He presented himself like a second John the Baptist
at the courts of kings and princes, and there boldly denounced vice
and misrule. It was not difficult for a Chinese scholar and teacher to
find access to the highest of the land. The Chinese believed in the
divine right of learning, just as they believed in the divine right of
kings. Mang employed every weapon of persuasion in trying to combat
heresy and oppression; alternately ridiculing and reproving: now
appealing in a burst of moral enthusiasm, and now denouncing in terms
of cutting sarcasm the abuses which after all he failed to check. The
last prince whom he successfully confronted was the Marquis of Lu, who
turned him carelessly away. He accepted this as the Divine sentence of
his failure, "That I have not found in this marquis, a ruler who would
hearken to me is an intimation of heaven." Henceforth he lived in
retirement until his ninety-seventh year; but from his apparent
failure sprang a practical success. His written teachings are amongst
the most lively and epigrammatic works of Chinese literature, have
done much to keep alive amongst his countrymen the spirit of
Confucianism, and even Western readers may drink wisdom from this
spring of Oriental lore. The following selections from his sayings
well exhibit the spirit of his system of philosophy and morality:

                                                               E. W.




BOOK I

_King Hwuy of Lëang_


PART I

Mencius went to see King Hwuy of Lëang.[35] The king said, "Venerable
Sir, since you have not counted it far to come here a distance of a
thousand li, may I presume that you are likewise provided with
counsels to profit my kingdom?" Mencius replied, "Why must your
Majesty use that word 'profit'? What I am likewise provided with are
counsels to benevolence and righteousness; and these are my only
topics.

"If your Majesty say, 'What is to be done to profit my kingdom?' the
great officers will say, 'What is to be done to profit our families?'
and the inferior officers and the common people will say, 'What is to
be done to profit our persons?' Superiors and inferiors will try to
take the profit the one from the other, and the kingdom will be
endangered. In the kingdom of ten thousand chariots, the murderer of
his ruler will be the chief of a family of a thousand chariots. In the
State of a thousand chariots, the murderer of his ruler will be the
chief of a family of a hundred chariots. To have a thousand in ten
thousand, and a hundred in a thousand, cannot be regarded as not a
large allowance; but if righteousness be put last and profit first,
they will not be satisfied without snatching all.

"There never was a man trained to benevolence who neglected his parents.
There never was a man trained to righteousness who made his ruler an
after consideration. Let your Majesty likewise make benevolence and
righteousness your only themes--Why must you speak of profit?"

When Mencius, another day, was seeing King Hwuy of Lëang, the King
went and stood with him by a pond, and, looking round on the wild
geese and deer, large and small, said, "Do wise and good princes also
take pleasure in these things?" Mencius replied, "Being wise and good,
they then have pleasure in these things. If they are not wise and
good, though they have these things, they do not find pleasure." It is
said in the 'Book of Poetry':--

    'When he planned the commencement of the Marvellous tower,
    He planned it, and defined it,
    And the people in crowds undertook the work,
    And in no time completed it.
    When he planned the commencement, he said, "Be not in a hurry."
    But the people came as if they were his children.
    The king was in the Marvellous park,
    Where the does were lying down--
    The does so sleek and fat;
    With the white birds glistening.
    The king was by the Marvellous pond;--
    How full was it of fishes leaping about!'

King Wan used the strength of the people to make his tower and pond,
and the people rejoiced to do the work, calling the tower 'the
Marvellous Tower,' and the pond 'the Marvellous Pond,' and being glad
that he had his deer, his fishes and turtles. The ancients caused
their people to have pleasure as well as themselves, and therefore
they could enjoy it.

"In the Declaration of T‘ang it is said, 'O Sun, when wilt thou
expire? We will die together with thee.' The people wished for Këeh's
death, though they should die with him. Although he had his tower, his
pond, birds and animals, how could he have pleasure alone?"

King Hwuy of Lëang said, "Small as my virtue is, in the government of my
kingdom, I do indeed exert my mind to the utmost. If the year be bad
inside the Ho, I remove as many of the people as I can to the east of
it, and convey grain to the country inside. If the year be bad on the
east of the river, I act on the same plan. On examining the governmental
methods of the neighboring kingdoms, I do not find there is any ruler
who exerts his mind as I do. And yet the people of the neighboring kings
do not decrease, nor do my people increase--how is this?"

Mencius replied, "Your Majesty loves war; allow me to take an
illustration from war. The soldiers move forward at the sound of the
drum; and when the edges of their weapons have been crossed, on one
side, they throw away their buff coats, trail their weapons behind
them, and run. Some run a hundred paces and then stop; some run fifty
paces and stop. What would you think if these, because they had run
but fifty paces, should laugh at those who ran a hundred paces?" The
king said, "They cannot do so. They only did not run a hundred paces;
but they also ran." Mencius said, "Since your Majesty knows this you
have no ground to expect that your people will become more numerous
than those of the neighboring kingdoms.

"If the seasons of husbandry be not interfered with, the grain will be
more than can be eaten. If close nets are not allowed to enter the
pools and ponds, the fish and turtles will be more than can be
consumed. If the axes and bills enter the hill-forests only at the
proper times, the wood will be more than can be used. When the grain
and fish and turtles are more than can be eaten, and there is more
wood than can be used, this enables the people to nourish their living
and do all offices for their dead, without any feeling against any.
But this condition, in which the people nourish their living, and do
all offices to their dead without having any feeling against any, is
the first step in the Royal way.

"Let mulberry trees be planted about the homesteads with their five
acres, and persons of fifty years will be able to wear silk. In
keeping fowls, pigs, dogs, and swine, let not their time of breeding
be neglected, and persons of seventy years will be able to eat flesh.
Let there not be taken away the time that is proper for the
cultivation of the field allotment of a hundred acres, and the family
of several mouths will not suffer from hunger. Let careful attention
be paid to the teaching in the various schools, with repeated
inculcation of the filial and fraternal duties, and gray-haired men
will not be seen upon the roads, carrying burdens on their backs or on
their heads. It has never been that the ruler of a State where these
results were seen, persons of seventy wearing silk and eating flesh,
and the black-haired people suffering neither from hunger nor cold,
did not attain to the Royal dignity.

"Your dogs and swine eat the food of men, and you do not know to store
up of the abundance. There are people dying from famine on the roads,
and you do not know to issue your stores for their relief. When men
die, you say, 'It is not owing to me; it is owing to the year.' In
what does this differ from stabbing a man and killing him, and then
saying, 'It was not I; it was the weapon'? Let your Majesty cease to
lay the blame on the year and instantly the people, all under the sky,
will come to you."

King Hwuy of Lëang said, "I wish quietly to receive your
instructions." Mencius replied, "Is there any difference between
killing a man with a stick and with a sword?" "There is no
difference," was the answer.

Mencius continued, "Is there any difference between doing it with a
sword and with governmental measures?" "There is not," was the answer
again.

Mencius then said, "In your stalls there are fat beasts; in your
stables there are fat horses. But your people have the look of hunger,
and in the fields there are those who have died of famine. This is
leading on beasts to devour men. Beasts devour one another, and men
hate them for doing so. When he who is called the parent of the people
conducts his government so as to be chargeable with leading on beasts
to devour men, where is that parental relation to the people? Chung-ne
said, 'Was he not without posterity who first made wooden images to
bury with the dead?' So he said, because that man made the semblances
of men and used them for that purpose; what shall be thought of him
who causes his people to die of hunger?"

King Hwuy of Lëang said, "There was not in the kingdom a stronger
State than Ts‘in, as you, venerable Sir, know. But since it
descended to me, on the east we were defeated by Ts‘e, and then my
eldest son perished; on the west we lost seven hundred li of territory
to Ts‘in; and on the south we have sustained disgrace at the hands
of Ts‘oo. I have brought shame on my departed predecessors, and wish
on their account to wipe it away once for all. What course is to be
pursued to accomplish this?"

Mencius replied, "With a territory only a hundred li square it has
been possible to obtain the Royal dignity. If your Majesty will indeed
dispense a benevolent government to the people, being sparing in the
use of punishments and fines, and making the taxes and levies of
produce light, so causing that the fields shall be ploughed deep, and
the weeding well attended to, and that the able-bodied, during their
days of leisure, shall cultivate their filial piety, fraternal duty,
faithfulness, and truth, serving thereby, at home, their fathers and
elder brothers, and, abroad, their elders and superiors, you will
then have a people who can be employed with sticks which they have
prepared to oppose the strong buff-coats and sharp weapons of the
troops of Ts‘in and Ts‘oo.

"The rulers of those States rob their people of their time, so that
they cannot plough and weed their fields in order to support their
parents. Parents suffer from cold and hunger; elder and younger
brothers, wives and children, are separated and scattered abroad.
Those rulers drive their people into pitfalls or into the water; and
your Majesty will go to punish them. In such a case, who will oppose
your Majesty? In accordance with this is the saying, 'The benevolent
has no enemy!' I beg your Majesty not to doubt what I said."

Mencius had an interview with King Sëang[36] of Lëang. When he came
out he said to some persons, "When I looked at him from a distance, he
did not appear like a ruler; when I drew near to him, I saw nothing
venerable about him. Abruptly he asked me, 'How can the kingdom, all
under the sky, be settled?' I replied, 'It will be settled by being
united under one sway.'

"'Who can so unite it?' he asked.

"I replied, 'He who has no pleasure in killing men can so unite it.'

"'Who can give it to him?' he asked.

"I replied, 'All under heaven will give it to him. Does your Majesty
know the way of the growing grain? During the seventh and eighth
months, when drought prevails, the plants become dry. Then the clouds
collect densely in the heavens, and send down torrents of rain, so
that the grain erects itself as if by a shoot. When it does so, who
can keep it back? Now among those who are shepherds of men throughout
the kingdom, there is not one who does not find pleasure in killing
men. If there were one who did not find pleasure in killing men, all
the people under the sky would be looking towards him with
outstretched necks. Such being indeed the case, the people would go to
him as water flows downwards with a rush, which no one can repress."

King Seuen of Ts‘e asked, saying, "May I be informed by you of the
transactions of Hwan of Ts‘e and Wan of Ts‘in?"

Mencius replied, "There were none of the disciples of Chung-ne who
spoke about the affairs of Hwan and Wan, and therefore they have not
been transmitted to these after-ages; your servant has not heard of
them. If you will have me speak, let it be about the principles of
attaining to the Royal sway."

The king said, "Of what kind must his virtue be who can attain to the
Royal sway?" Mencius said, "If he loves and protects the people, it is
impossible to prevent him from attaining it."

The king said, "Is such an one as poor I competent to love and protect
the people?" "Yes," was the reply. "From what do you know that I am
competent to that?" "I have heard," said Mencius, "from Hoo Heih the
following incident:--'The king,' said he, 'was sitting aloft in the
hall, when some people appeared leading a bull past below it. The king
saw it, and asked where the bull was going, and being answered that
they were going to consecrate a bell with its blood, he said, "Let it
go, I cannot bear its frightened appearance--as if it were an innocent
person going to the place of death." They asked in reply whether, if
they did so, they should omit the consecration of the bell, but the
king said, "How can that be omitted? Change it for a sheep." "I do not
know whether this incident occurred."

"It did," said the king, and Mencius replied, "The heart seen in this
is sufficient to carry you to the Royal sway. The people all supposed
that your Majesty grudged the animal, but your servant knows surely
that it was your Majesty's not being able to bear the sight of the
creature's distress which made you do as you did."

The king said, "You are right; and yet there really was an appearance
of what the people imagined. But though Ts‘e be narrow and small,
how should I grudge a bull? Indeed it was because I could not bear its
frightened appearance, as if it were an innocent person going to the
place of death, that therefore I changed it for a sheep."

Mencius said, "Let not your Majesty deem it strange that the people
should think you grudged the animal. When you changed a large one for
a small, how should they know the true reason? If you felt pained by
its being led without any guilt to the place of death, what was there
to choose between a bull and a sheep?" The king laughed and said,
"What really was my mind in the matter? I did not grudge the value of
the bull, and yet I changed it for a sheep! There was reason in the
people's saying that I grudged the creature."

Mencius said, "There is no harm in their saying so. It was an artifice
of benevolence. You saw the bull, and had not seen the sheep. So is
the superior man affected towards animals, that, having seen them
alive, he cannot bear to see them die, and, having heard their dying
cries, he cannot bear to eat their flesh. On this account he keeps
away from his stalls and kitchen."

The king was pleased and said, "The Ode says,

    'What other men have in their minds,
    I can measure by reflection.'

This might be spoken of you, my Master. I indeed did the thing, but when
I turned my thoughts inward and sought for it, I could not discover my
own mind. When you, Master, spoke those words, the movements of
compassion began to work in my mind. But how is it that this heart has
in it what is equal to the attainment of the Royal sway?"

Mencius said, "Suppose a man were to make this statement to your
Majesty, 'My strength is sufficient to lift three thousand catties,
but is not sufficient to lift one feather; my eyesight is sharp enough
to examine the point of an autumn hair, but I do not see a wagon-load
of fagots,' would your Majesty allow what he said?" "No," was the
king's remark, and Mencius proceeded, "Now here is kindness sufficient
to reach to animals, and yet no benefits are extended from it to the
people--how is this? is an exception to be made here? The truth is,
the feather's not being lifted is because the strength was not used;
the wagon-load of firewood's not being seen is because the eyesight
was not used; and the people's not being loved and protected is
because the kindness is not used. Therefore your Majesty's not
attaining to the Royal sway is because you do not do it, and not
because you are not able to do it."

The king asked, "How may the difference between him who does not do a
thing and him who is not able to do it be graphically set forth?"
Mencius replied, "In such a thing as taking the T‘ae mountain under
your arm, and leaping with it over the North Sea, if you say to
people, 'I am not able to do it,' that is a real case of not being
able. In such a matter as breaking off a branch from a tree at the
order of a superior, if you say to people, 'I am not able to do it,'
it is not a case of not being able to do it. And so your Majesty's not
attaining to the Royal sway is not such a case as that of taking the
T‘ae mountain under your arm and leaping over the North Sea with it;
but it is a case like that of breaking off a branch from a tree.

"Treat with reverence due to age the elders in your own family, so
that those in the families of others shall be similarly treated; treat
with the kindness due to youth the young in your own family, so that
those in the families of others shall be similarly treated--do this
and the kingdom may be made to go round in your palm. It is said in
the 'Book of Poetry,'

    'His example acted on his wife,
    Extended to his brethren,
    And was felt by all the clans and States;'

telling us how King Wan simply took this kindly heart, and exercised it
towards those parties. Therefore the carrying out of the feeling of
kindness by a ruler will suffice for the love and protection of all
within the four seas; and if he do not carry it out, he will not be able
to protect his wife and children. The way in which the ancients came
greatly to surpass other men was no other than this, that they carried
out well what they did, so as to affect others. Now your kindness is
sufficient to reach to animals, and yet no benefits are extended from it
to the people. How is this? Is an exception to be made here?

"By weighing we know what things are light, and what heavy. By
measuring we know what things are long, and what short. All things are
so dealt with, and the mind requires specially to be so. I beg your
Majesty to measure it.

"Your Majesty collects your equipments of war, endangers your soldiers
and officers and excites the resentment of the various princes--do
these things cause you pleasure in your mind?"

The king said, "No. How should I derive pleasure from these things? My
object in them is to seek for what I greatly desire."

Mencius said, "May I hear from you what it is that your Majesty
greatly desires?"

The king laughed, and did not speak. Mencius resumed, "Are you led to
desire it because you have not enough of rice and sweet food for your
mouth? or because you have not enough of light and warm clothing for
your body? or because you have not enough of beautifully colored
objects to satisfy your eyes? or because there are not voices and
sounds enough to fill your ears? or because you have not enough of
attendants and favorites to stand before you and receive your orders?
Your Majesty's various officers are sufficient to supply you with all
these things. How can your Majesty have such a desire on account of
them?" "No," said the king, "my desire is not on account of them."
Mencius observed, "Then what your Majesty greatly desires can be
known. You desire to enlarge your territories, to have Ts‘in and
Ts‘oo coming to your court, to rule the Middle States, and to
attract to you the barbarous tribes that surround them. But to do what
you do in order to seek for what you desire is like climbing a tree to
seek for fish."

"Is it so bad as that?" said the king. "I apprehend it is worse," was
the reply. "If you climb a tree to seek for fish, although you do not
get the fish, you have no subsequent calamity. But if you do what you
do in order to seek for what you desire, doing it even with all your
heart, you will assuredly afterwards meet with calamities." The king
said, "May I hear what they will be?" Mencius replied, "If the people
of Tsow were fighting with the people of Ts‘oo, which of them does
your Majesty think would conquer?" "The people of Ts‘oo would
conquer," was the answer, and Mencius pursued, "So then, a small State
cannot contend with a great, few cannot contend with many, nor can the
weak contend with the strong. The territory within the seas would
embrace nine divisions, each of a thousand li square. All Ts‘e
together is one of them. If with one part you try to subdue the other
eight, what is the difference between that and Tsow's contending with
Ts‘oo? With the desire which you have, you must turn back to the
proper course for its attainment.

"Now, if your Majesty will institute a government whose action shall
all be benevolent, this will cause all the officers in the kingdom to
wish to stand in your Majesty's court, the farmers all to wish to
plough in your Majesty's fields, the merchants, both travelling and
stationary, all to wish to store their goods in your Majesty's
market-places, travellers and visitors all to wish to travel on your
Majesty's roads, and all under heaven who feel aggrieved by their
rulers to wish to come and complain to your Majesty. When they are so
bent, who will be able to keep them back?"

The king said, "I am stupid and cannot advance to this. But I wish
you, my Master, to assist my intentions. Teach me clearly, and
although I am deficient in intelligence and vigor, I should like to
try at least to institute such a government."

Mencius replied, "They are only men of education, who, without a
certain livelihood, are able to maintain a fixed heart. As to the
people, if they have not a certain livelihood, they will be found not
to have a fixed heart. And if they have not a fixed heart, there is
nothing which they will not do in the way of self-abandonment, of
moral deflection, of depravity, and of wild license. When they have
thus been involved in crime, to follow them up and punish them, is to
entrap the people. How can such a thing as entrapping the people be
done under the rule of a benevolent man?"

"Therefore, an intelligent ruler will regulate the livelihood of the
people, so as to make sure that, above, they shall have sufficient
wherewith to serve their parents, and below, sufficient wherewith to
support their wives and children; that in good years they shall always
be abundantly satisfied, and that in bad years they shall not be in
danger of perishing. After this he may urge them, and they will
proceed to what is good, for in this case the people will follow after
that with readiness.

"But now the livelihood of the people is so regulated, that, above,
they have not sufficient wherewith to serve their parents, and, below,
they have not sufficient wherewith to support their wives and
children; even in good years their lives are always embittered, and in
bad years they are in danger of perishing. In such circumstances their
only object is to escape from death, and they are afraid they will not
succeed in doing so--what leisure have they to cultivate propriety and
righteousness?

"If your Majesty wishes to carry out a benevolent government, why not
turn back to what is the essential step to its attainment?

"Let mulberry trees be planted about the homesteads with their five
acres, and persons of fifty years will be able to wear silk. In
keeping fowls, pigs, dogs, and swine, let not their times of breeding
be neglected, and persons of seventy years will be able to eat flesh.
Let there not be taken away the time that is proper for the
cultivation of the field-allotment of a hundred acres, and the family
of eight mouths will not suffer from hunger. Let careful attention be
paid to the teaching in the various schools, with repeated inculcation
of the filial and fraternal duties, and gray-haired men will not be
seen upon the roads, carrying burdens on their backs or on their
heads. It has never been that the ruler of a State, where these
results were seen, the old wearing silk and eating flesh, and the
black-haired people suffering neither from hunger nor cold, did not
attain to the Royal dignity."

[Footnote 35: The title of this book in Chinese is--"King Hwuy of
Lëang; in chapters and sentences." Like the Books of the Confucian
Analects, those of this work are headed by two or three words at or
near the commencement of them. Each Book is divided into two parts.
This arrangement was made by Chaou K‘e, and to him are due also the
divisions into chapters, and sentences, or paragraphs, containing, it
may be, many sentences.]

[Footnote 36: Sëang was the son of King Hwuy. The first year of his
reign is supposed to be B.C. 317. Sëang's name was Hih. As a
posthumous epithet, Sëang has various meanings: "Land-enlarger and
Virtuous"; "Successful in Arms." The interview here recorded seems to
have taken place immediately after Hih's accession, and Mencius, it is
said, was so disappointed by it that he soon after left the country.]




[_Books II, III, and IV are omitted_]




BOOK V

_Wan Chang_[37]


PART I

Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, "When Shun went into the fields, he
cried out and wept towards the pitying heavens. Why did he cry out and
weep?" Mencius replied, "He was dissatisfied and full of earnest
desire."

Wan Chang said, "When his parents love him, a son rejoices and forgets
them not; and when they hate him, though they punish him, he does not
allow himself to be dissatisfied. Was Shun then dissatisfied with his
parents?" Mencius said, "Ch‘ang Seih asked Kung-ming Kaou, saying,
'As to Shun's going into the fields, I have received your
instructions; but I do not understand about his weeping and crying out
to the pitying heavens, and to his parents.' Kung-ming Kaou answered
him, 'You do not understand that matter.' Now Kung-ming Kaou thought
that the heart of a filial son like Shun could not be so free from
sorrow as Seih seemed to imagine he might have been. Shun would be
saying, 'I exert my strength to cultivate the fields, but I am thereby
only discharging my duty as a son. What is there wrong in me that my
parents do not love me?'

"The emperor caused his own children--nine sons and two daughters--the
various officers, oxen and sheep, store-houses and granaries, all to
be prepared for the service of Shun amid the channeled fields. Most of
the officers in the empire repaired to him. The emperor designed that
he should superintend the empire along with himself, and then to
transfer it to him. But because his parents were not in accord with
him, he felt like a poor man who has nowhere to turn to.

"To be an object of complacency to the officers of the empire is what
men desire; but it was not sufficient to remove the sorrow of Shun.
The possession of beauty is what men desire: but though Shun had for
his wives the two daughters of the emperor, it was not sufficient to
remove his sorrow. Riches are what men desire, but though the empire
was the rich property of Shun, it was not enough to remove his sorrow.
Honors are what men desire, but though Shun had the dignity of being
the son of Heaven, it was not sufficient to remove his sorrow. The
reason why his being the object of men's complacency, the possession
of beauty, riches, and honors, could not remove his sorrow was because
it could be removed only by his being in entire accord with his parents.

"The desire of a child is towards his father and mother. When he
becomes conscious of the attractions of beauty, his desire is towards
young and beautiful women. When he comes to have a wife and children,
his desire is towards them. When he obtains office, his desire is
towards his ruler; and if he cannot get the regard of his ruler, he
burns within. But the man of great filial piety, all his life, has his
desire towards his parents. In the great Shun I see the case of one
whose desire was towards them when he was fifty years old."

Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, "It is said in the 'Book of Poetry,'

    'How do we proceed in taking a wife?
    Announcement must first be made to our parents.'

If the rule be indeed as thus expressed, no one ought to have
illustrated it so well as Shun--how was it that Shun's marriage took
place without his informing his parents?" Mencius replied, "If he had
informed them, he would not have been able to marry. That male and
female dwell together is the greatest of human relations. If Shun had
informed his parents, he must have made void this greatest of human
relations, and incurred thereby their resentment. It was on this
account that he did not inform them."

Wan Chang said, "As to Shun's marrying without making announcement to
his parents, I have heard your instructions. But how was it that the
emperor gave him his daughters as wives without informing his
parents?" Mencius said, "The emperor also knew that, if he informed
his parents, he could not have given him his daughters as wives."

Wan Chang said, "His parents set Shun to repair a granary, and then
removed the ladder by which he had ascended; after which Koo-sow set
fire to it. They sent him to dig a well, from which he managed to get
out; but they, not knowing this, proceeded to cover it up. His
brother, Sëang, said, 'Of this scheme to cover up the city-farming
gentleman the merit is all mine. Let my parents have his oxen and
sheep; let them have his granaries and store-houses. His shield and
spear shall be mine; his lute shall be mine; his carved bow shall be
mine; and I will make his two wives attend for me to my bed.' Sëang
then went away and entered Shun's house, and there was Shun upon a
couch with his lute. Sëang said, 'I am come simply because I was
thinking anxiously about you,' and at the same time he looked ashamed.
Shun said to him, 'There are all my officers; do you take the
management of them for me.' I do not know whether Shun was ignorant of
Sëang's wishing to kill him." Mencius replied, "How could he be
ignorant of it? But when Sëang was sorrowful, he was also sorrowful,
and when Sëang was joyful, he was also joyful."

Wan Chang continued, "Then was Shun one who rejoiced hypocritically?"
"No," was the reply. "Formerly some one sent a present of a live fish
to Tsze-ch‘an of Ch‘ing. Tsze-ch‘an ordered his pond-keeper to
feed it in the pond; but the man cooked it and reported the execution
of his commission, saying, 'When I first let it go, it looked
embarrassed. In a little while it seemed to be somewhat at ease, and
then it swam away as if delighted.' 'It had got into its element!'
said Tsze-ch‘an. The pond-keeper went out and said, 'Who calls
Tsze-ch‘an wise? When I had cooked and eaten the fish, he said, "It
has got into its element! It has got into its element!"' "Thus a
superior man may be imposed on by what seems to be as it ought to be,
but it is difficult to entrap him by what is contrary to right
principle. Sëang came in the way in which the love of his elder
brother would have made him come, and therefore Shun truly believed
him, and rejoiced at it. What hypocrisy was there?"

Wan Chang said, "Sëang made it his daily business to kill Shun; why
was it that, when the latter was raised to be the son of Heaven, he
only banished him?" Mencius replied, "He invested him with a State,
and some have said that it was banishing him." When Chang said, "Shun
banished the Superintendent of Works to Yëw-chow, sent away Hwan-tow
to Mount Ts‘ung, slew the Prince of San Mëaou in San-wei, and
imprisoned K‘wan on Mount Yu. When those four criminals were thus
dealt with, all under heaven submitted to him; it was a cutting off of
men who were destitute of benevolence. But Sëang was of all men the
most destitute of benevolence, and Shun invested him with the State of
Pe; of what crime had the people of Pe been guilty? Does a benevolent
man really act thus? In the case of other men, he cut them off; in the
case of his brother, he invested him with a State." Mencius replied,
"A benevolent man does not lay up anger, nor cherish resentment
against his brother, but only regards him with affection and love.
Regarding him with affection, he wishes him to enjoy honor; loving
him, he wishes him to be rich. The investing him with Pe was to enrich
and ennoble him. If while Shun himself was emperor, his brother had
been a common man, could he have been said to regard him with
affection and love?"

Wan Chang said, "I venture to ask what is meant by some saying that it
was a banishing of Sëang." Mencius replied, "Sëang could do nothing of
himself in his State. The emperor appointed an officer to manage its
government, and to pay over its revenues to him; and therefore it was
said that it was a banishing of him? How indeed could he be allowed
the means of oppressing the people there? Nevertheless, Shun wished to
be continually seeing him, and therefore he came unceasingly to court,
as is signified in that expression, 'He did not wait for the rendering
of tribute, or affairs of government, to receive the prince of Pe.'"

Hëen-k‘ëw Mung asked Mencius, saying, "There is the old saying, 'An
officer of complete virtue cannot be employed as a minister by his
ruler, nor treated as a son by his father.' Shun stood with his face
to the south, and Yaou, at the head of all the feudal princes,
appeared in his court with his face to the north. Koo-sow also
appeared at Shun's court with his face to the north; and when Shun saw
him, his countenance assumed a look of distress. Confucius said, 'At
this time the empire was in a perilous condition indeed! How unsettled
was its state!' I do not know whether what is thus said really took
place." Mencius said, "No. These are not the words of a superior man,
but the sayings of an uncultivated person of the east of Ts‘e. When
Yaou was old, Shun took the management of affairs for him. It is said
in the Canon of Yaou, 'After twenty-eight years, Fang-heun demised,
and the people mourned for him as for a parent three years. All within
the four seas, the eight instruments of music were stopped and
hushed." Confucius said, "'There are not two suns in the sky, nor two
sovereigns over the people. If Shun had already been in the position
of the son of Heaven, and had moreover led on all the feudal princes
of the empire to observe the three years' mourning for Yaou, there
must in that case have been two sons of Heaven.'"

Hëen-k‘ëw Mung said, "On the point of Shun's not employing Yaou as a
minister, I have received your instructions. But it is said in the
'Book of Poetry,'

    'Under the wide heaven,
    All is the king's land;
    Within the sea-boundaries of the land,
    All are the king's servants.'

When Shun became emperor, I venture to ask how it was that Koo-sow was
not one of his servants." Mencius replied, "That Ode is not to be
understood in that way; it speaks of being laboriously engaged in the
king's business, and not being able to nourish one's parents, as if
the subject of it said, 'This is all the king's business, but I alone
am supposed to have ability, and made to toil in it.' Therefore those
who explain the Odes must not insist on one term so as to do violence
to a sentence, nor on a sentence so as to do violence to the general
scope. They must try with their thoughts to meet that scope, and then
they will apprehend it. If we simply take single sentences, there is
that in the Ode called the 'Yun Han,'

    'Of the remnant of Chow, among the black-haired people,
    There will not be half a man left.'

If it had really been as thus expressed, then not an individual of the
people of Chow would have been left.

"Of all that a filial son can attain to, there is nothing greater
than his honoring his parents. Of what can be attained to in honoring
one's parents, there is nothing greater than the nourishing them with
the empire. To be the father of the son of Heaven is the height of
honor. To be nourished with the empire is the height of nourishment.
In this was verified the sentiment in the 'Book of Poetry,'

    'Ever thinking how to be filial,
    His filial mind was the model which he supplied.'

"In the 'Book of History' it is said, 'With respectful service he
appeared before Koo-sow, looking grave and awestruck, till Koo-sow
also was transformed by his example.' This is the true case of the
scholar of complete virtue not being treated as a son by his father."

Wan Chang said, "It is said that Yaou gave the empire to Shun; was it
so?" Mencius replied, "No; the emperor cannot give the empire to
another." "Yes; but Shun possessed the empire. Who gave it to him?"
"Heaven gave it to him," was the reply.

"Heaven gave it to him? Did Heaven confer the appointment on him with
specific injunctions?" Mencius said, "No. Heaven does not speak. It
simply showed its will by his personal conduct, and by his conduct of
affairs."

"'It showed its will by his personal conduct, and by his conduct of
affairs,'" returned the other; "how was this?" Mencius said, "The
emperor can present a man to Heaven, but he cannot make Heaven give
that man the empire. A feudal prince can present a man to the emperor
to take his place, but he cannot make the emperor give the princedom
to that man. A great officer can present a man to his prince, but he
cannot cause the prince to make that man a great officer in his own
room. Anciently Yaou presented Shun to Heaven, and Heaven accepted
him; he displayed him to the people, and the people accepted him.
Therefore I say, 'Heaven does not speak. It simply indicated its will
by his personal conduct, and by his conduct of affairs.'"

Chang said, "I presume to ask how it was that Yaou presented Shun to
Heaven, and Heaven accepted him, and displayed him to the people, and
the people accepted him." The reply was, "He caused him to preside
over the sacrifices, and all the Spirits were well pleased with them;
thus it was that Heaven accepted him. He caused him to preside over
the conduct of affairs, and affairs were well administered, so that
all the people reposed under him; thus it was that the people accepted
him. Heaven gave the empire to him, and the people gave it to him.
Therefore I said, 'The emperor cannot give the empire to another.'

"Shun assisted Yaou in the government for twenty and eight years; this
was more than man could have done, and was from Heaven. When the three
years' mourning consequent on the death of Yaou were accomplished,
Shun withdrew from the son of Yaou to the south of the southern Ho.
The princes of the empire, however, repairing to court, went not to
the son of Yaou, but to Shun. Litigants went not to the son of Yaou,
but to Shun. Singers sang not the son of Yaou, but Shun. Therefore I
said that it was Heaven that gave him the empire. It was after this
that he went to the Middle State, and occupied the seat of the son of
Heaven. If he had before these things taken up his residence in the
palace of Yaou, and applied pressure to his son, it would have been an
act of usurpation, and not the gift of Heaven.

"This view of Shun's obtaining the empire is in accordance with what
is said in The Great Declaration--'Heaven sees as my people see,
Heaven hears as my people hear.'"

Wan Chang said, "People say, 'When the disposal of the empire came to
Yu, his virtue was inferior to that of Yaou and Shun, and he did not
transmit it to the worthiest, but to his son.' Was it so?" Mencius
replied, "No; it was not so. When Heaven gave the empire to the
worthiest, it was given to the worthiest; when Heaven gave it to the
son of the preceding emperor, it was given to that son. Formerly Shun
presented Yu to Heaven for a period of seventeen years; and when the
three years' mourning, consequent on the death of Shun, were
accomplished, Yu withdrew from the son of Yu to Yang-shing. The people
of the empire followed him as, after the death of Yaou, they had not
followed his son, but followed Shun. Yu presented Yih to Heaven for a
period of seven years; and when the three years' mourning consequent
on the death of Yu were accomplished, Yih withdrew from the son of Yu
to the north of Mount Ke. The princes repairing to court, and
litigants, went not to Yih, but to K‘e, saying, 'He is the son of
our ruler.' Singers did not sing Yih, but they sang K‘e, saying, 'He
is the son of our ruler.'

"That Tan-choo was not equal to his father, and Shun's son also not
equal to his; that Shun assisted Yaou, and Yu assisted Shun, for a
period of many years, conferring benefits on the people for a long
time; that K‘e was virtuous and able, and could reverently enter
into and continue the ways of Yu; that Yih assisted Yu for a period of
a few years, conferring benefits on the people not for a long time;
that the length of time that Shun, Yu, and Yih, assisted in the
government was so different; and that the sons of the emperors were
one a man of talents and virtue, and the other two inferior to their
fathers:--all these things were from Heaven, and what could not be
produced by man. That which is done without any one's seeming to do it
is from Heaven. That which comes to pass without any one's seeming to
bring it about is from Heaven.

"In the case of a private man's obtaining the empire, there must be in
him virtue equal to that of Shun and Yu, and moreover there must be
the presenting him to Heaven by the preceding emperor. It was on this
latter account that Chung-ne did not obtain the kingdom.

"When the throne descends by natural succession, he who is displaced
by Heaven must be like Këeh or Chow. It was on this account that Yih,
E Yin, and the duke of Chow did not obtain the kingdom.

"E Yin assisted T‘ang so that he became sovereign of the kingdom.
After the demise of T‘ang, T‘ae-ting having died without being
appointed in his place, Wae-ping reigned two years, and Chung-jin
four. T‘ae-Këah then was turning upside down the canons and examples
of T‘ang, and E Yin placed him in T‘ung for three years. There he
repented of his errors, was contrite, and reformed himself. In T‘ung
he came to dwell in benevolence and moved towards righteousness,
during those three years listening to the lessons given to him by E
Yin, after which that minister again returned with him to Poh.

"The duke of Chow's not getting the kingdom was like that of Yih's not
getting the throne of Hëa, or E Yin's that of Yin.

"Confucius said, 'T‘ang and Yu resigned the throne to the worthiest;
the founders of the Hëa, Yin, and Chow dynasties transmitted it to
their sons. The principle of righteousness was the same in all the
cases.'"

Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, "People say that E Yin sought an
introduction to T‘ang by his knowledge of cookery; was it so?" Mencius
replied, "No, it was not so. E Yin was farming in the lands of the State
of Sin, delighting in the principles of Yaou and Shun. In any matter
contrary to the righteousness which they prescribed, or to the course
which they enjoined, though he had been salaried with the empire, he
would not have regarded it; though there had been yoked for him a
thousand teams, he would not have looked at them. In any matter contrary
to the righteousness which they prescribed, or to the course which they
enjoined, he would not have given nor taken even a single straw.

"T‘ang sent persons with presents of silk to ask him to enter his
service. With an air of indifference and self-satisfaction, he said,
'What can I do with these silks with which T‘ang invites me? Is it
not best for me to abide in these channeled fields, and therein
delight myself with the principles of Yaou and Shun?'

"T‘ang thrice sent persons thus to invite him. After this, with the
change of purpose displayed in his countenance, he spoke in a
different style, saying, 'Instead of abiding in the channeled fields,
and therein delighting myself with the principles of Yaou and Shun,
had I not better make this ruler one after the style of Yaou and Shun?
had I not better make this people like the people of Yaou and Shun?
had I not better in my own person see these things for myself?
Heaven's plan in the production of this people is this:--That they who
are first informed, should instruct those who are later in being
informed, and those who first apprehend principles should instruct
those who are slower to do so. I am the one of Heaven's people who
have first apprehended; I will take these principles and instruct this
people in them. If I do not instruct them, who will do so?'

"He thought that among all the people of the kingdom, even the private
men and women, if there were any that did not enjoy such benefits as
Yaou and Shun conferred, it was as if he himself pushed them into a
ditch. He took upon himself the heavy charge of all under Heaven in
this way, and therefore he went to T‘ang, and pressed upon him the
duty of attacking Hëa, and saving the people.

"I have not heard of one who bent himself and at the same time made
others straight; how much less could one disgrace himself, and thereby
rectify the whole kingdom? The actions of the sages have been
different. Some have kept far away from office, and others have drawn
near to it; some have left their offices, and others have not done so;
that in which these different courses all meet, is simply the keeping
of their persons pure.

"I have heard that E Yin sought an introduction to T‘ang by the
principles of Yaou and Shun; I have not heard he did so by his
knowledge of cookery.

"In the 'Instructions of E,' it is said, 'Heaven, destroying Këeh,
commenced attacking him in the palace of Muh; we commenced in Poh.'"

Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, "Some say that Confucius in Wei lived
with an ulcer-doctor, and in Ts‘e with Tseih Hwan, the chief of the
eunuchs; was it so?" Mencius said, "No, it was not so. Those are the
inventions of men fond of strange things.

"In Wei he lived in the house of Yen Ch‘ow-yëw. The wife of the
officer Mei and the wife of Tsze-lu were sisters. Mei-tsze spoke to
Tsze-lu, saying, 'If Confucius will lodge with me, he may get to be a
high noble of Wei.' Tsze-lu reported this to Confucius, who said,
'That is as ordered by Heaven.' Confucius advanced according to
propriety, and retired according to righteousness. In regard to his
obtaining office and honor or not obtaining them, he said, 'That is as
ordered.' But if he had lodged with an ulcer-doctor and with Tseih
Hwan, the chief of the eunuchs, that would neither have been according
to righteousness nor any ordering of Heaven.

"When Confucius, being dissatisfied in Lu and Wei, had left those
States, he met with the attempt of Hwan, the master of the Horse, in
Sung, to intercept and kill him, so that he had to pass through Sung
in the dress of a private man. At that time, though he was in
circumstances of distress, he lodged in the house of Ching-tsze, the
minister of works, who was then a minister of Chow, the marquis of
Ch‘in.

"I have heard that ministers in the service of a court may be known
from those to whom they are hosts, and that ministers coming from a
distance may be known from those with whom they lodge. If Confucius
had lodged with an ulcer-doctor and with Tseih Hwan, the chief of the
eunuchs, how could he have been Confucius?"

Wan Chang asked Mencius, saying, "Some say that Pih-le He sold himself
to a cattle-keeper of Ts‘in for five sheepskins, and fed his cattle
for him, to seek an introduction to Duke Muh of Ts‘in; is this
true?" Mencius said, "No, it was not so. This is the invention of some
one fond of strange things.

"Pih-le He was a man of Yu. The people of Ts‘in by the inducement of
a _peih_ of Ch‘uy-Keih and a team of Këuh-ch‘an horses were asking
liberty to march through Yu to attack Kwoh. Kung Che-k‘e
remonstrated with the duke of Yu, asking him not to grant their
request, but Pih-le He did not remonstrate.

"When he knew that the duke of Yu was not to be remonstrated with, and
went in consequence from that State to Ts‘in, he had reached the age
of seventy. If by that time he did not know that it would be a
disgraceful thing to seek for an introduction to Duke Muh of Ts‘in
by feeding cattle, could he be called wise? But not remonstrating
where it was of no use to remonstrate, could he be said not to be
wise? Knowing that the duke of Yu would be ruined, and leaving his
State before that event, he could not be said to be not wise. As soon
as he was advanced in Ts‘in, he knew that Duke Muh was one with whom
he could have a field for action, and became chief minister to him;
could he be said to be not wise? Acting as chief minister in Ts‘in,
he made his ruler distinguished throughout the kingdom, and worthy to
be handed down to future ages; if he had not been a man of talents and
virtue, could he have done this? As to selling himself in order to
bring about the destruction of his ruler, even a villager who had a
regard for himself, would not do such a thing; and shall we say that a
man of talents and virtue did it?"

[Footnote 37: The Book is named from Wan Chang, who is almost the only
interlocutor with Mencius in it. The tradition is that it was in
company with Wan's disciples that Mencius, baffled in all his hopes of
doing public service, and having retired into privacy, composed the
Seven Books which constitute his works. The part which follows is all
occupied with discussions in vindication of Shun and other ancient
worthies.]




THE SHI-KING

[_Metrical translation by James Legge_]




INTRODUCTION


The wisdom of Confucius as a social reformer, as a teacher and guide
of the Chinese people, is shown in many ways. He not only gave them a
code of personal deportment, providing them with rules for the
etiquette and ceremony of life, but he instilled into them that
profound spirit of domestic piety which is one of the strongest
features in the Chinese character. He took measures to secure also the
intellectual cultivation of his followers, and his Five Canons contain
all the most ancient works of Chinese literature, in the departments
of poetry, history, philosophy, and legislation. The Shi-King is a
collection of Chinese poetry made by Confucius himself. This great
anthology consists of more than three hundred pieces, covering the
whole range of Chinese lyric poetry, the oldest of which dates some
eighteen centuries before Christ, while the latest of the selections
must have been written at the beginning of the sixth century before
Christ. These poems are of the highest interest, and even nowadays may
be read with delight by Europeans. The ballad and the hymn are among
the earliest forms of national poetry, and the contents of the
Shi-King naturally show specimens of lyric poetry of this sort. We
find there not only hymns, but also ballads of a really fine and
spirited character. Sometimes the poems celebrate the common pursuits,
occupations, and incidents of life. They rise to the exaltation of the
epithalamium, or of the vintage song; at other times they deal with
sentiment and human conduct, being in the highest degree sententious
and epigrammatic. We must give the credit to Confucius of having
saved for us the literature of China, and of having set his people an
example in preserving the monuments of a remote antiquity. While the
literatures of ancient Greece and Rome have largely perished in the
convulsions that followed the breaking up of the Roman empire in
Europe, when the kingdom of China fell into disorder and decrepitude
this one great teacher stepped forward to save the precious record of
historic fact, philosophical thought, and of legislation as well as
poetry, from being swept away by the deluge of revolution. Confucius
showed his wisdom by the high value he set upon the poetry of his
native land, and his name must be set side by side with that of the
astute tyrant of Athens who collected the poems of Homer and preserved
them as a precious heritage to the Greek world. Confucius has given us
his opinion with regard to the poems of the Shi-King. No man, he says,
is worth speaking to who has not mastered the poems of an anthology,
the perusal of which elevates the mind and purifies it from all
corrupt thoughts. Thanks to the work of modern scholarship, English
readers can now verify this dictum for themselves.

                                                               E. W.




_PART I.--LESSONS FROM THE STATES_




BOOK I

_The Odes of Chow and the South_


CELEBRATING THE VIRTUE OF KING WAN'S BRIDE

    Hark! from the islet in the stream the voice
    Of the fish-hawks that o'er their nests rejoice!
    From them our thoughts to that young lady go,
    Modest and virtuous, loth herself to show.
    Where could be found to share our prince's state,
    So fair, so virtuous, and so fit a mate?

    See how the duckweed's stalks, or short or long,
    Sway left and right, as moves the current strong!
    So hard it was for him the maid to find!
    By day, by night, our prince with constant mind
    Sought for her long, but all his search was vain.
    Awake, asleep, he ever felt the pain
    Of longing thought, as when on restless bed,
    Tossing about, one turns his fevered head.

    Here long, there short, afloat the duckweed lies;
    But caught at last, we seize the longed-for prize.
    The maiden modest, virtuous, coy, is found;
    Strike every lute, and joyous welcome sound.
    Ours now, the duckweed from the stream we bear,
    And cook to use with other viands rare.
    He has the maiden, modest, virtuous, bright;
    Let bells and drums proclaim our great delight.


CELEBRATING THE INDUSTRY OF KING WAN'S QUEEN

    Sweet was the scene. The spreading dolichos
    Extended far, down to the valley's depths,
    With leaves luxuriant. The orioles
    Fluttered around, and on the bushy trees
    In throngs collected--whence their pleasant notes
    Resounded far in richest melody.

    The spreading dolichos extended far,
    Covering the valley's sides, down to its depths,
    With leaves luxuriant and dense. I cut
    It down, then boiled, and from the fibres spun
    Of cloth, both fine and coarse, large store,
    To wear, unwearied of such simple dress.

    Now back to my old home, my parents dear
    To see, I go. The matron I have told,
    Who will announcement make. Meanwhile my clothes,
    My private clothes I wash, and rinse my robes.
    Which of them need be rinsed? and which need not?
    My parents dear to visit, back I go.


IN PRAISE OF A BRIDE

    Graceful and young the peach-tree stands;
      How rich its flowers, all gleaming bright!
    This bride to her new home repairs;
      Chamber and house she'll order right.

    Graceful and young the peach-tree stands;
      Large crops of fruit it soon will show.
    This bride to her new home repairs;
      Chamber and house her sway shall know.

    Graceful and young the peach-tree stands,
      Its foliage clustering green and full.
    This bride to her new home repairs;
      Her household will attest her rule.


CELEBRATING T‘AE-SZE's FREEDOM FROM JEALOUSY

    In the South are the trees whose branches are bent,
    And droop in such fashion that o'er their extent
      All the dolichos' creepers fast cling.
    See our princely lady, from whom we have got
    Rejoicing that's endless! May her happy lot
      And her honors repose ever bring!

    In the South are the trees whose branches are bent,
    And droop in such fashion that o'er their extent
      All the dolichos' creepers are spread.
    See our princely lady, from whom we have got
    Rejoicing that's endless! Of her happy lot
      And her honors the greatness ne'er fade!

    In the South are the trees whose branches are bent,
    And droop in such fashion that o'er their extent
      All the dolichos' creepers entwine.
    See our princely lady, from whom we have got
    Rejoicing that's endless! May her happy lot
      And her honors complete ever shine!


THE FRUITFULNESS OF THE LOCUST

    Ye locusts, wingèd tribes,
      Gather in concord fine;
    Well your descendants may
      In numerous bright hosts shine!

    Ye locusts, wingèd tribes,
      Your wings in flight resound;
    Well your descendants may
      In endless lines be found!

    Ye locusts, wingèd tribes,
      Together cluster strong;
    Well your descendants may
      In swarms forever throng!


LAMENTING THE ABSENCE OF A CHERISHED FRIEND

    Though small my basket, all my toil
      Filled it with mouse-ears but in part.
    I set it on the path, and sighed
      For the dear master of my heart.

    My steeds, o'er-tasked, their progress stayed,
      When midway up that rocky height.
    Give me a cup from that gilt vase--
      When shall this longing end in sight?

    To mount that lofty ridge I drove,
      Until my steeds all changed their hue.
    A cup from that rhinoceros's horn
      May help my longing to subdue.

    Striving to reach that flat-topped hill,
      My steeds, worn out, relaxed their strain;
    My driver also sank oppressed:--
      I'll never see my lord again!


CELEBRATING THE GOODNESS OF THE DESCENDANTS OF KING WAN

    As the feet of the _lin_, which avoid each living thing,
    So our prince's noble sons no harm to men will bring.
                      They are the _lin_!

    As the front of the _lin_, never forward thrust in wrath,
    So our prince's noble grandsons of love tread the path.
                      They are the _lin_!

    As the horn of the _lin_, flesh-tipped, no wound to give,
    So our prince's noble kindred kindly with all live.
                      They are the _lin_!

     [NOTE.--The "lin" is the female of "K‘e"--a fabulous animal--the
     symbol of all goodness and benevolence; having the body of a deer,
     the tail of an ox, the hoofs of a horse, one horn, the scales of a
     fish, etc. Its feet do not tread on any living thing--not even on
     live grass; it does not butt with its forehead; and the end of its
     horn is covered with flesh--to show that, while able for war, it
     wills to have peace. The "lin" was supposed to appear inaugurating
     a golden age, but the poet finds a better auspice of that in the
     character of Wan's family and kindred.]


THE VIRTUOUS MANNERS OF THE YOUNG WOMEN

    High and compressed, the Southern trees
      No shelter from the sun afford.
    The girls free ramble by the Han,
      But will not hear enticing word.
    Like the broad Han are they,
      Through which one cannot dive;
    And like the Keang's long stream,
      Wherewith no raft can strive.

    Many the fagots bound and piled;
      The thorns I'd hew still more to make.
    As brides, those girls their new homes seek;
      Their colts to feed I'd undertake.
    Like the broad Han are they,
      Through which one cannot dive;
    And like the Keang's long stream,
      Wherewith no raft can strive.

    Many the fagots bound and piled;
      The Southern-wood I'd cut for more.
    As brides, those girls their new homes seek;
      Food for their colts I'd bring large store.
    Like the broad Han are they,
      Through which one cannot dive;
    And like the Keang's long stream,
      Wherewith no raft can strive.


PRAISE OF A RABBIT-CATCHER

    Careful he sets his rabbit-nets all round;
    _Chang-chang_ his blows upon the pegs resound.
    Stalwart the man and bold! his bearing all
    Shows he might be his prince's shield and wall.

    Careful he is his rabbit-nets to place
    Where many paths of rabbits' feet bear trace.
    Stalwart the man and bold! 'tis plain to see
    He to his prince companion good would be.

    Careful he is his rabbit-nets to spread,
    Where in the forest's depth the trees give shade.
    Stalwart the man and bold! fit his the part
    Guide to his prince to be, and faithful heart.


THE SONG OF THE PLANTAIN-GATHERERS

    We gather and gather the plantains;
      Come gather them anyhow.
    Yes, gather and gather the plantains,
      And here we have got them now.

    We gather and gather the plantains;
      Now off the ears we must tear.
    Yes, gather and gather the plantains,
      And now the seeds are laid bare.

    We gather and gather the plantains,
      The seeds in our skirts are placed.
    Yes, gather and gather the plantains.
      Ho! safe in the girdled waist!


THE AFFECTION OF THE WIVES ON THE JOO

    Along the raised banks of the Joo,
      To hew slim stem and branch I wrought,
    My lord away, my husband true,
      Like hunger-pang my troubled thought!

    Along the raised banks of the Joo,
      Branch and fresh shoot confessed my art.
    I've seen my lord, my husband true,
      And still he folds me in his heart.

    As the toiled bream makes red its tail,
      Toil you, Sir, for the Royal House;
    Amidst its blazing fires, nor quail:--
      Your parents see you pay your vows.




BOOK II

_The Odes of Shaou and the South_


THE MARRIAGE OF A PRINCESS

            In the magpie's nest
            Dwells the dove at rest.
    This young bride goes to her future home;
    To meet her a hundred chariots come.

            Of the magpie's nest
            Is the dove possessed.
    This bride goes to her new home to live;
    And escort a hundred chariots give.

            The nest magpie wove
            Now filled by the dove.
    This bride now takes to her home her way;
    And these numerous cars her state display.


THE INDUSTRY AND REVERENCE OF A PRINCE'S WIFE

    Around the pools, the islets o'er,
      Fast she plucks white Southern-wood,
    To help the sacrificial store;
      And for our prince does service good.

    Where streams among the valleys shine,
      Of Southern-woods she plucks the white;
    And brings it to the sacred shrine,
      To aid our prince in solemn rite.

    In head-dress high, most reverent, she
      The temple seeks at early dawn.
    The service o'er, the head-dress see
      To her own chamber slow withdrawn.


THE WIFE OF SOME GREAT OFFICER BEWAILS HIS ABSENCE

    Shrill chirp the insects in the grass;
      All about the hoppers spring.
    While I my husband do not see,
      Sorrow must my bosom wring.
              O to meet him!
              O to greet him!
      Then my heart would rest and sing.

    Ascending high that Southern hill,
      Turtle ferns I strove to get.
    While I my husband do not see,
      Sorrow must my heart beset.
              O to meet him!
              O to greet him!
      Then my heart would cease to fret.

    Ascending high that Southern hill,
      Spinous ferns I sought to find.
    While I my husband do not see,
      Rankles sorrow in my mind.
              O to meet him!
              O to greet him!
      In my heart would peace be shrined.


THE DILIGENCE OF THE YOUNG WIFE OF AN OFFICER

    She gathers fast the large duckweed,
      From valley stream that southward flows;
    And for the pondweed to the pools
      Left on the plains by floods she goes.

    The plants, when closed her toil, she puts
      In baskets round and baskets square.
    Then home she hies to cook her spoil,
      In pans and tripods ready there.

    In sacred chamber this she sets,
      Where the light falls down through the wall.
    'Tis she, our lord's young reverent wife,
      Who manages this service all.


THE LOVE OF THE PEOPLE FOR THE DUKE OF SHAOU

    O fell not that sweet pear-tree!
      See how its branches spread.
          Spoil not its shade,
          For Shaou's chief laid
      Beneath it his weary head.

    O clip not that sweet pear-tree!
      Each twig and leaflet spare.
          'Tis sacred now,
          Since the lord of Shaou,
      When weary, rested him there.

    O touch not that sweet pear-tree!
      Bend not a twig of it now.
          There long ago,
          As the stories show,
      Oft halted the chief of Shaou.


THE EASY DIGNITY OF THE OFFICERS AT SOME COURT

    Arrayed in skins of lamb or sheep,
      With five silk braidings all of white,
    From court they go, to take their meal,
      All self-possessed, with spirits light.

    How on their skins of lamb or sheep
      The five seams wrought with white silk show!
    With easy steps, and self-possessed,
      From court to take their meal, they go.

    Upon their skins of lamb or sheep
      Shines the white silk the seams to link.
    With easy steps and self-possessed,
      They go from court to eat and drink.


ANXIETY OF A YOUNG LADY TO GET MARRIED

    Ripe, the plums fall from the bough;
    Only seven-tenths left there now!
    Ye whose hearts on me are set,
    Now the time is fortunate!

    Ripe, the plums fall from the bough;
    Only three-tenths left there now!
    Ye who wish my love to gain,
    Will not now apply in vain!

    No more plums upon the bough!
    All are in my basket now!
    Ye who me with ardor seek,
    Need the word but freely speak!




BOOK III

_The Odes of P‘ei_


AN OFFICER BEWAILS THE NEGLECT WITH WHICH HE IS TREATED

    It floats about, that boat of cypress wood,
      Now here, now there, as by the current borne.
    Nor rest nor sleep comes in my troubled mood;
      I suffer as when painful wound has torn
      The shrinking body. Thus I dwell forlorn,
    And aimless muse, my thoughts of sorrow full.
      I might with wine refresh my spirit worn;
    I might go forth, and, sauntering try to cool
    The fever of my heart; but grief holds sullen rule.

    My mind resembles not a mirror plate,
      Reflecting all the impressions it receives.
    The good I love, the bad regard with hate;
      I only cherish whom my heart believes.
      Colleagues I have, but yet my spirit grieves,
    That on their honor I cannot depend.
      I speak, but my complaint no influence leaves
    Upon their hearts; with mine no feelings blend;
    With me in anger they, and fierce disdain contend.

    My mind is fixed, and cannot, like a stone,
      Be turned at will indifferently about;
    And what I think, to that, and that alone,
      I utterance give, alike within, without;
      Nor can like mat be rolled and carried out.
    With dignity in presence of them all,
      My conduct marked, my goodness who shall scout?
    My foes I boldly challenge, great and small,
    If there be aught in me they can in question call.

    How full of trouble is my anxious heart!
      With hate the blatant herd of creatures mean
    Ceaseless pursue. Of their attacks the smart
      Keeps my mind in distress. Their venomed spleen
      Aye vents itself; and with insulting mien
    They vex my soul; and no one on my side
      A word will speak. Silent, alone, unseen,
    I think of my sad case; then opening wide
    My eyes, as if from sleep, I beat my breast, sore-tried.

    Thy disc, O sun, should ever be complete,
      While thine, O changing moon, doth wax and wane.
    But now our sun hath waned, weak and effete,
      And moons are ever full. My heart with pain
      Is firmly bound, and held in sorrow's chain,
    As to the body cleaves an unwashed dress.
      Silent I think of my sad case; in vain
    I try to find relief from my distress.
    Would I had wings to fly where ills no longer press!


A WIFE DEPLORES THE ABSENCE OF HER HUSBAND

    Away the startled pheasant flies,
      With lazy movement of his wings.
    Borne was my heart's lord from my eyes;--
      What pain the separation brings!

    The pheasant, though no more in view,
      His cry, below, above, forth sends.
    Alas! my princely lord, 'tis you--
      Your absence, that my bosom rends.

    At sun and moon I sit and gaze,
      In converse with my troubled heart.
    Far, far from me my husband stays!
      When will he come to heal its smart?

    Ye princely men who with him mate,
      Say, mark ye not his virtuous way.
    His rule is--covet nought, none hate;--
      How can his steps from goodness stray?


THE PLAINT OF A REJECTED WIFE

    The east wind gently blows,
      With cloudy skies and rain.
    'Twixt man and wife should ne'er be strife,
      But harmony obtain.
    Radish and mustard plants
      Are used, though some be poor;
    While my good name is free from blame,
      Don't thrust me from your door.

    I go along the road,
      Slow, with reluctant heart.
    Your escort lame to door but came,
      There glad from me to part.
    Sow-thistle, bitter called,
      As shepherd's purse is sweet;
    With your new mate you feast elate,
      As joyous brothers meet.

    Part clear, the stream of King
      Is foul beside the Wei.
    You feast elate with your new mate,
      And take no heed of me.
    Loose mate, avoid my dam,
      Nor dare my basket move!
    Person slighted, life all blighted,
      What can the future prove?

    The water deep, in boat,
      Or raft-sustained, I'd go;
    And where the stream did narrow seem,
      I dived or breasted through.
    I labored to increase
      Our means, or great or small;
    When 'mong friends near death did appear,
      On knees to help I'd crawl.

    No cherishing you give,
      I'm hostile in your eyes.
    As pedler's wares for which none cares,
      My virtues you despise.
    When poverty was nigh,
      I strove our means to spare;
    You, now rich grown, me scorn to own;
      To poison me compare.

    The stores for winter piled
      Are all unprized in spring.
    So now, elate with your new mate,
      Myself away you fling.
    Your cool disdain for me
      A bitter anguish hath.
    The early time, our love's sweet prime,
      In you wakes only wrath.


SOLDIERS OF WEI BEWAIL SEPARATION FROM THEIR FAMILIES

    List to the thunder and roll of the drum!
      See how we spring and brandish the dart!
    Some raise Ts‘aou's walls; some do field work at home;
      But we to the southward lonely depart.

    Our chief, Sun Tsze-chung, agreement has made,
      Our forces to join with Ch‘in and with Sung.
    When shall we back from this service be led?
      Our hearts are all sad, our courage unstrung.

    Here we are halting, and there we delay;
      Anon we soon lose our high-mettled steeds.
    The forest's gloom makes our steps go astray;
      Each thicket of trees our searching misleads.

    For death as for life, at home or abroad,
      We pledged to our wives our faithfulest word.
    Their hands clasped in ours, together we vowed,
      We'd live to old age in sweetest accord.

    This march to the South can end but in ill;
      Oh! never shall we our wives again meet.
    The word that we pledged we cannot fulfil;
      Us home returning they never will greet.


AN OFFICER TELLS OF HIS MEAN EMPLOYMENT

    With mind indifferent, things I easy take;
    In every dance I prompt appearance make:--
    Then, when the sun is at his topmost height,
    There, in the place that courts the public sight.

    With figure large I in the courtyard dance,
    And the duke smiles, when he beholds me prance.
    A tiger's strength I have; the steeds swift bound;
    The reins as ribbons in my hands are found.

    See how I hold the flute in my left hand;
    In right the pheasant's plume, waved like a wand;
    With visage red, where rouge you think to trace,
    While the duke pleased, sends down the cup of grace!

    Hazel on hills; the _ling_ in meadow damp;--
    Each has its place, while I'm a slighted scamp.
    My thoughts go back to th' early days of Chow,
    And muse upon its chiefs, not equalled now.
      O noble chiefs, who then the West adorned,
      Would ye have thus neglected me and scorned?


AN OFFICER SETS FORTH HIS HARD LOT

    My way leads forth by the gate on the north;
      My heart is full of woe.
    I hav'n't a cent, begged, stolen, or lent,
      And friends forget me so.
        So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree.
        What can I say--a poor fellow like me?

    The King has his throne, sans sorrow or moan;
      On me fall all his cares,
    And when I come home, resolved not to roam,
      Each one indignant stares.
        So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree.
        What can I say--a poor fellow like me?

    Each thing of the King, and the fate of the State,
      On me come more and more.
    And when, sad and worn, I come back forlorn,
      They thrust me from the door.
        So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree.
        What can I say--a poor fellow like me?


THE COMPLAINT OF A NEGLECTED WIFE

    When the upper robe is green,
    With a yellow lining seen,
    There we have a certain token,
    Right is wronged and order broken.
    How can sorrow from my heart
    In a case like this depart?

    Color green the robe displays;
    Lower garment yellow's blaze.
    Thus it is that favorite mean
    In the place of wife is seen.
    Vain the conflict with my grief;
    Memory denies relief.

    Yes, 'twas you the green who dyed,
    You who fed the favorite's pride.
    Anger rises in my heart,
    Pierces it as with a dart.
    But on ancient rules lean I,
    Lest to wrong my thoughts should fly.

    Fine or coarse, if thin the dress,
    Cold winds always cause distress.
    Hard my lot, my sorrow deep,
    But my thoughts in check I keep.
    Ancient story brings to mind
    Sufferers who were resigned.

     [NOTE.--Yellow is one of the five "correct" colors of the Chinese,
     while green is one of the "intermediate" colors that are less
     esteemed. Here we have the yellow used merely as a lining to the
     green, or employed in the lower, or less honorable, part of the
     dress;--an inversion of propriety, and intimating how a favorite
     had usurped the place of the rightful wife and thrust her down.]


IN PRAISE OF A MAIDEN

    O sweet maiden, so fair and retiring,
      At the corner I'm waiting for you;
    And I'm scratching my head, and inquiring
      What on earth it were best I should do.

    Oh! the maiden, so handsome and coy,
      For a pledge gave a slim rosy reed.
    Than the reed is she brighter, my joy;
      On her loveliness how my thoughts feed!

    In the pastures a _t'e_ blade she sought,
      And she gave it, so elegant, rare.
    Oh! the grass does not dwell in my thought,
      But the donor, more elegant, fair.


DISCONTENT

    As when the north winds keenly blow,
    And all around fast falls the snow,
    The source of pain and suffering great,
    So now it is in Wei's poor state.
    Let us join hands and haste away,
      My friends and lovers all.
    'Tis not a time will brook delay;
      Things for prompt action call.

    As when the north winds whistle shrill,
    And drifting snows each hollow fill,
    The source of pain and suffering great,
    So now it is in Wei's poor state.
    Let us join hands, and leave for aye,
      My friends and lovers all,
    'Tis not a time will brook delay;
      Things for prompt action call.

    We look for red, and foxes meet;
    For black, and crows our vision greet.
    The creatures, both of omen bad,
    Well suit the state of Wei so sad.
    Let us join hands and mount our cars,
      My friends and lovers all.
    No time remains for wordy jars;
      Things for prompt action call.


CHWANG KEANG BEMOANS HER HUSBAND'S CRUELTY

    Fierce is the wind and cold;
      And such is he.
    Smiling he looks, and bold
      Speaks mockingly.
    Scornful and lewd his words,
      Haughty his smile.
    Bound is my heart with cords
      In sorrow's coil.

    As cloud of dust wind-blown,
      Just such is he.
    Ready he seems to own,
      And come to me.
    But he comes not nor goes,
      Stands in his pride.
    Long, long, with painful throes,
      Grieved I abide.

    Strong blew the wind; the cloud
      Hastened away.
    Soon dark again, the shroud
      Covers the day.
    I wake, and sleep no more
      Visits my eyes.
    His course I sad deplore,
      With heavy sighs.

    Cloudy the sky, and dark;
      The thunders roll.
    Such outward signs well mark
      My troubled soul.
    I wake, and sleep no more
      Comes to give rest.
    His course I sad deplore,
      In anguished breast.




[_Selections from Books IV, V, and VI have been omitted._]




BOOK VII

_The Odes of Ch‘ing_


THE PEOPLE'S ADMIRATION FOR DUKE WOO

    The black robes well your form befit;
      When they are worn we'll make you new.
    Now for your court! oh! there we'll sit,
      And watch how you your duties do.
        And when we to our homes repair,
        We'll send to you our richest fare,
        Such is the love to you we bear!

    Those robes well with your virtue match;
      When they are worn we'll make you new.
    Now for your court! There will we watch,
      Well pleased, how you your duties do.
        And when we to our homes repair,
        We'll send to you our richest fare,
        Such is the love to you we bear!

    Those robes your character beseem;
      When they are worn we'll make you new.
    Now for your court! oh! there we deem
      It pleasure great your form to view.
        And when we to our homes repair,
        We'll send to you our richest fare,
        Such is the love to you we bear!


A WIFE CONSOLED BY HER HUSBAND'S ARRIVAL

    Cold is the wind, fast falls the rain,
      The cock aye shrilly crows.
    But I have seen my lord again;--
      Now must my heart repose.

    Whistles the wind, patters the rain,
      The cock's crow far resounds.
    But I have seen my lord again,
      And healed are my heart's wounds.

    All's dark amid the wind and rain,
      Ceaseless the cock's clear voice!
    But I have seen my lord again;--
      Should not my heart rejoice?


IN PRAISE OF SOME LADY

    There by his side in chariot rideth she,
    As lovely flower of the hibiscus tree,
    So fair her face; and when about they wheel,
    Her girdle gems of _Ken_ themselves reveal.
    For beauty all the House of Këang have fame;
    Its eldest daughter--she beseems her name.

    There on the path, close by him, walketh she,
    Bright as the blossom of hibiscus tree,
    And fair her face; and when around they flit,
    Her girdle gems a tinkling sound emit.
    Among the Këang she has distinguished place,
    For virtuous fame renowned, and peerless grace.


A MAN'S PRAISE OF HIS WIFE

    My path forth from the east gate lay,
    Where cloud-like moved the girls at play.
    Numerous are they, as clouds so bright,
    But not on them my heart's thoughts light.
    Dressed in a thin white silk, with coiffure gray,
    Is she, my wife, my joy in life's low way.

    Forth by the covering wall's high tower,
    I went, and saw, like rush in flower,
    Each flaunting girl. Brilliant are they,
    But not with them my heart's thoughts stay.
    In thin white silk, with head-dress madder-dyed,
    Is she, my sole delight, 'foretime my bride.


AN ENTREATY

    Along the great highway,
      I hold you by the cuff.
    O spurn me not, I pray,
      Nor break old friendship off.

    Along the highway worn,
      I hold your hand in mine.
    Do not as vile me scorn;
      Your love I can't resign.


A WOMAN SCORNING HER LOVER

    O dear! that artful boy
      Refuses me a word!
    But, Sir, I shall enjoy
      My food, though you're absurd!

    O dear! that artful boy
      My table will not share!
    But, Sir, I shall enjoy
      My rest, though you're not there!


A LADY MOURNS THE ABSENCE OF HER STUDENT LOVER

    You student, with the collar blue,
      Long pines my heart with anxious pain.
    Although I do not go to you,
      Why from all word do you refrain?

    O you, with girdle strings of blue,
      My thoughts to you forever roam!
    Although I do not go to you,
      Yet why to me should you not come?

    How reckless you, how light and wild,
      There by the tower upon the wall!
    One day, from sight of you exiled,
      As long as three long months I call.




BOOK VIII

_The Odes of Ts‘e_


A WIFE URGING HER HUSBAND TO ACTION

    His lady to the marquis says,
      "The cock has crowed; 'tis late.
    Get up, my lord, and haste to court.
      'Tis full; for you they wait."
    She did not hear the cock's shrill sound,
    Only the blueflies buzzing round.

    Again she wakes him with the words,
      "The east, my lord, is bright.
    A crowded court your presence seeks;
      Get up and hail the light."
    'Twas not the dawning light which shone,
    But that which by the moon was thrown.

    He sleeping still, once more she says,
      "The flies are buzzing loud.
    To lie and dream here by your side
      Were pleasant, but the crowd
    Of officers will soon retire;
    Draw not on you and me their ire!"


THE FOLLY OF USELESS EFFORT

    The weeds will but the ranker grow,
      If fields too large you seek to till.
    To try to gain men far away
      With grief your toiling heart will fill.

    If fields too large you seek to till,
      The weeds will only rise more strong.
    To try to gain men far away
      Will but your heart's distress prolong.

    Things grow the best when to themselves
      Left, and to nature's vigor rare.
    How young and tender is the child,
      With his twin tufts of falling hair!
    But when you him ere long behold,
      That child shall cap of manhood wear!


THE PRINCE OF LOO

    A grand man is the prince of Loo,
      With person large and high.
    Lofty his front and suited to
      The fine glance of his eye!
    Swift are his feet. In archery
      What man with him can vie?
    With all these goodly qualities,
      We see him and we sigh!

    Renowned through all the land is he,
      The nephew of our lord.
    With clear and lovely eyes, his grace
      May not be told by word.
    All day at target practice,
      He'll never miss the bird.
    Such is the prince of Loo, and yet
      With grief for him we're stirred!

    All grace and beauty he displays,
      High forehead and eyes bright.
    And dancing choice! His arrows all
      The target hit aright.
    Straight through they go, and every one
      Lights on the self-same spot.
    Rebellion he could well withstand,
      And yet we mourn his lot!




BOOK IX

_The Odes of Wei_


ON THE MISGOVERNMENT OF THE STATE

    A fruit, small as the garden peach,
      May still be used for food.
    A State, though poor as ours, might thrive,
      If but its rule were good.
    Our rule is bad, our State is sad,
      With mournful heart I grieve.
    All can from instrument and voice
      My mood of mind perceive.
    Who know me not, with scornful thought,
      Deem me a scholar proud.
    "Those men are right," they fiercely say,
      "What mean your words so loud?"
    Deep in my heart my sorrows lie,
      And none the cause may know.
    How should they know who never try
      To learn whence comes our woe?

    The garden jujube, although small,
      May still be used for food.
    A State, though poor as ours, might thrive,
      If but its rule were good.
    Our rule is bad, our State is sad,
      With mournful heart I grieve.
    Methinks I'll wander through the land,
      My misery to relieve.
    Who know me not, with scornful thought,
      Deem that wild views I hold.
    "Those men are right," they fiercely say,
      "What mean your words so bold?"
    Deep in my heart my sorrows lie,
      And none the cause may know.
    How can they know, who never try
      To learn whence comes our woe?


THE MEAN HUSBAND

    Thin cloth of dolichos supplies the shoes,
      In which some have to brave the frost and cold.
    A bride, when poor, her tender hands must use,
      Her dress to make, and the sharp needle hold.
    This man is wealthy, yet he makes his bride
      Collars and waistbands for his robes provide.

    Conscious of wealth, he moves with easy mien;
      Politely on the left he takes his place;
    The ivory pin is at his girdle seen:--
      His dress and gait show gentlemanly grace.
    Why do we brand him in our satire here?
      'Tis this--his niggard soul provokes the sneer.


A YOUNG SOLDIER ON SERVICE

    To the top of that tree-clad hill I go,
      And towards my father I gaze,
    Till with my mind's eye his form I espy,
      And my mind's ear hears how he says:--
    "Alas for my son on service abroad!
      He rests not from morning till eve.
    May he careful be and come back to me!
      While he is away, how I grieve!"

    To the top of that barren hill I climb,
      And towards my mother I gaze,
    Till with my mind's eye her form I espy,
      And my mind's ear hears how she says:--
    "Alas for my child on service abroad!
      He never in sleep shuts an eye.
    May he careful be, and come back to me!
      In the wild may his body not lie!"

    Up the lofty ridge I, toiling, ascend,
      And towards my brother I gaze,
    Till with my mind's eye his form I espy,
      And my mind's ear hears how he says:--
    "Alas! my young brother, serving abroad,
      All day with his comrades must roam.
    May he careful be, and come back to me,
      And die not away from his home."




BOOK X

_The Odes of T‘ang_


THE KING GOES TO WAR

    The wild geese fly the bushy oaks around,
    With clamor loud. _Suh-suh_ their wings resound,
    As for their feet poor resting-place is found.
    The King's affairs admit of no delay.
    Our millet still unsown, we haste away.
    No food is left our parents to supply;
    When we are gone, on whom can they rely?
    O azure Heaven, that shinest there afar,
    When shall our homes receive us from the war?

    The wild geese on the bushy jujube-trees
    Attempt to settle and are ill at ease;--
    _Suh-suh_ their wings go flapping in the breeze.
    The King's affairs admit of no delay;
    Our millet still unsown, we haste away.
    How shall our parents their requirements get?
    How in our absence shall their wants be met?
    O azure Heaven, that shinest there afar,
    When shall our homes receive us from the war?

    The bushy mulberry-trees the geese in rows
    Seek eager and to rest around them close--
    With rustling loud, as disappointment grows.
    The King's affairs admit of no delay;
    To plant our rice and maize we cannot stay.
    How shall our parents find their wonted food?
    When we are gone, who will to them be good?
    O azure Heaven, that shinest there afar,
    When shall our homes receive us from the war?


LAMENT OF A BEREAVED PERSON

    A russet pear-tree rises all alone,
    But rich the growth of leaves upon it shown!
    I walk alone, without one brother left,
    And thus of natural aid am I bereft.
    Plenty of people there are all around,
    But none like my own father's sons are found.
    Ye travellers, who forever hurry by,
    Why on me turn the unsympathizing eye?
    No brother lives with whom my cause to plead;--
    Why not perform for me the helping deed?

    A russet pear-tree rises all alone,
    But rich with verdant foliage o'ergrown.
    I walk alone, without one brother's care,
    To whom I might, amid my straits repair.
    Plenty of people there are all around,
    But none like those of my own name are found.
    Ye travellers, who forever hurry by,
    Why on me turn the unsympathizing eye?
    No brother lives with whom my cause to plead;--
    Why not perform for me the helping deed?


THE DRAWBACKS OF POVERTY

    On the left of the way, a russet pear-tree
    Stands there all alone--a fit image of me.
    There is that princely man! O that he would come,
    And in my poor dwelling with me be at home!
    In the core of my heart do I love him, but say,
    Whence shall I procure him the wants of the day?

    At the bend in the way a russet pear-tree
    Stands there all alone--a fit image of me.
    There is that princely man! O that he would come,
    And rambling with me be himself here at home!
    In the core of my heart I love him, but say,
    Whence shall I procure him the wants of the day?


A WIFE MOURNS FOR HER HUSBAND

    The dolichos grows and covers the thorn,
      O'er the waste is the dragon-plant creeping.
    The man of my heart is away and I mourn--
      What home have I, lonely and weeping?

    Covering the jujubes the dolichos grows,
      The graves many dragon-plants cover;
    But where is the man on whose breast I'd repose?
      No home have I, having no lover!

    Fair to see was the pillow of horn,
      And fair the bed-chamber's adorning;
    But the man of my heart is not here, and I mourn
      All alone, and wait for the morning.

    While the long days of summer pass over my head,
      And long winter nights leave their traces,
    I'm alone! Till a hundred of years shall have fled,
      And then I shall meet his embraces.

    Through the long winter nights I am burdened with fears,
      Through the long summer days I am lonely;
    But when time shall have counted its hundreds of years
      I then shall be his--and his only!




BOOK XI

_The Odes of Ts‘in_


CELEBRATING THE OPULENCE OF THE LORDS OF TS‘IN

    Our ruler to the hunt proceeds;
    And black as iron are his steeds
    That heed the charioteer's command,
    Who holds the six reins in his hand.
    His favorites follow to the chase,
    Rejoicing in his special grace.

    The season's males, alarmed, arise--
    The season's males, of wondrous size.
    Driven by the beaters, forth they spring,
    Soon caught within the hunters' ring.
    "Drive on their left," the ruler cries;
    And to its mark his arrow flies.

    The hunting done, northward he goes;
    And in the park the driver shows
    The horses' points, and his own skill
    That rules and guides them at his will.
    Light cars whose teams small bells display,
    The long- and short-mouthed dogs convey.


A COMPLAINT

    He lodged us in a spacious house,
      And plenteous was our fare.
    But now at every frugal meal
      There's not a scrap to spare.
    Alas! alas that this good man
    Could not go on as he began!


A WIFE'S GRIEF BECAUSE OF HER HUSBAND'S ABSENCE

    The falcon swiftly seeks the north,
    And forest gloom that sent it forth.
    Since I no more my husband see,
    My heart from grief is never free.
    O how is it, I long to know,
    That he, my lord, forgets me so?

    Bushy oaks on the mountain grow,
    And six elms where the ground is low.
    But I, my husband seen no more,
    My sad and joyless fate deplore.
    O how is it, I long to know,
    That he, my lord, forgets me so?

    The hills the bushy wild plums show,
    And pear-trees grace the ground below.
    But, with my husband from me gone,
    As drunk with grief, I dwell alone.
    Oh how is it, I long to know,
    That he, my lord, forgets me so?


LAMENT FOR THREE BROTHERS

    They flit about, the yellow birds,
      And rest upon the jujubes find.
    Who buried were in duke Muh's grave,
      Alive to awful death consigned?

    'Mong brothers three, who met that fate,
      'Twas sad the first, Yen-seih to see.
    He stood alone; a hundred men
      Could show no other such as he.
    When to the yawning grave he came,
    Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

    Why thus destroy our noblest men,
      To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!
    To save Yen-seih from death, we would
      A hundred lives have freely given.

    They flit about, the yellow birds,
      And on the mulberry-trees rest find.
    Who buried were in duke Muh's grave,
      Alive to awful death consigned?

    'Mong brothers three, who met that fate,
      'Twas sad the next, Chung-hang to see.
    When on him pressed a hundred men,
      A match for all of them was he.
    When to the yawning grave he came,
    Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

    Why thus destroy our noblest men,
      To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!
    To save Chung-hang from death, we would
      A hundred lives have freely given.

    They flit about, the yellow birds,
      And rest upon the thorn-trees find.
    Who buried were in duke Muh's grave,
      Alive to awful death consigned?

    'Mong brothers three, who met that fate,
      'Twas sad the third, K‘ëen-foo, to see.
    A hundred men in desperate fight
      Successfully withstand could he.
    When to the yawning grave he came,
    Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

    Why thus destroy our noblest men,
      To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!
    To save K‘ëen-foo from death, we would
      A hundred lives have freely given.

     [NOTE.--The incident related in this poem occurred in the year
     B.C. 620, when the duke of Muh died after playing an important
     part in the affairs of Northwest China. Muh required the three
     officers here celebrated, to be buried with him, and according to
     the "Historical Records" this barbarous practice began with duke
     Ching, Muh's predecessor. In all, 170 individuals were buried
     with Muh. The death of the last distinguished man of the Ts‘in
     dynasty, the Emperor I, was subsequently celebrated by the
     entombment with him of all the inmates of his harem.]


IN PRAISE OF A RULER OF TS‘IN

    What trees grow on the Chung-nan hill?
      The white fir and the plum.
    In fur of fox, 'neath 'broidered robe,
      Thither our prince is come.
    His face glows with vermilion hue.
    O may he prove a ruler true!

    What find we on the Chung-nan hill?
      Deep nook and open glade.
    Our prince shows there the double _Ke_
      On lower robe displayed.
    His pendant holds each tinkling gem,
    Long life be his, and deathless fame!


THE GENEROUS NEPHEW

    I escorted my uncle to Tsin,
      Till the Wei we crossed on the way.
        Then I gave as I left
        For his carriage a gift
      Four steeds, and each steed was a bay.

    I escorted my uncle to Tsin,
      And I thought of him much in my heart.
        Pendant stones, and with them
        Of fine jasper a gem,
      I gave, and then saw him depart.




BOOK XII

_The Odes of Ch‘in_


THE CONTENTMENT OF A POOR RECLUSE

    My only door some pieces of crossed wood,
      Within it I can rest enjoy.
    I drink the water wimpling from the spring;
      Nor hunger can my peace destroy.

    Purged from ambition's aims I say, "For fish,
      We need not bream caught in the Ho;
    Nor, to possess the sweets of love, require
      To Ts‘e, to find a Keang, to go.

    "The man contented with his lot, a meal
      Of fish without Ho carp can make;
    Nor needs, to rest in his domestic joy,
      A Tsze of Sung as wife to take."


THE DISAPPOINTED LOVER

    Where grow the willows near the eastern gate,
      And 'neath their leafy shade we could recline,
    She said at evening she would me await,
      And brightly now I see the day-star shine!

    Here where the willows near the eastern gate
      Grow, and their dense leaves make a shady gloom,
    She said at evening she would me await.
      See now the morning star the sky illume!


A LOVE-SONG

    The moon comes forth, bright in the sky;
    A lovelier sight to draw my eye
      Is she, that lady fair.
    She round my heart has fixed love's chain,
    But all my longings are in vain.
      'Tis hard the grief to bear.

    The moon comes forth, a splendid sight;
    More winning far that lady bright,
      Object of my desire!
    Deep-seated is my anxious grief;
    In vain I seek to find relief,
      While glows the secret fire.

    The rising moon shines mild and fair;
    More bright is she, whose beauty rare
      My heart with longing fills.
    With eager wish I pine in vain;
    O for relief from constant pain,
      Which through my bosom thrills!


THE LAMENT OF A LOVER

    There where its shores the marsh surround,
    Rushes and lotus plants abound.
    Their loveliness brings to my mind
    The lovelier one that I would find.
    In vain I try to ease the smart
    Of wounded love that wrings my heart.
    In waking thought and nightly dreams,
    From every pore the water streams.

    All round the marsh's shores are seen
    Valerian flowers and rushes green.
    But lovelier is that Beauty rare,
    Handsome and large, and tall and fair.
    I wish and long to call her mine,
    Doomed with the longing still to pine.
    Nor day nor night e'er brings relief;
    My inmost heart is full of grief.

    Around the marsh, in rich display,
    Grow rush and lotus flowers, all gay.
    But not with her do they compare,
    So tall and large, majestic, fair.
    Both day and night, I nothing speed;
    Still clings to me the aching need.
    On side, on back, on face, I lie,
    But vain each change of posture try.




BOOK XIII

_The Odes of Kwei_


THE WISH OF AN UNHAPPY MAN

    Where the grounds are wet and low,
    There the trees of goat-peach grow,
    With their branches small and smooth,
    Glossy in their tender youth.
    Joy it were to me, O tree,
    Consciousness to want like thee.

    Where the grounds are wet and low,
    There the trees of goat-peach grow.
    Soft and fragrant are their flowers,
    Glossy from the vernal showers.
    Joy it were to me, O tree,
    Ties of home to want like thee.

    Where the grounds are wet and low,
    There the trees of goat-peach grow,
    What delicious fruits they bear,
    Glossy, soft, of beauty rare!
    Joy it were to me, O tree,
    Household cares to want like thee.




BOOK XIV

_The Odes of Ts‘aou_


AGAINST FRIVOLOUS PURSUITS

    Like splendid robes appear the wings
      Of the ephemeral fly;
    And such the pomp of those great men,
      Which soon in death shall lie!
    I grieve! Would they but come to me!
      To teach them I should try.

    The wings of the ephemeral fly
      Are robes of colors gay;
    And such the glory of those men,
      Soon crumbling to decay!
    I grieve! Would they but rest with me,
      They'd learn a better way!

    The ephemeral fly bursts from its hole,
      With gauzy wings like snow;
    So quick the rise, so quick the fall,
      Of those great men we know!
    I grieve! Would they but lodge with me,
      Forth they would wiser go.




BOOK XV

_The Odes of Pin_


THE DUKE OF CHOW TELLS OF HIS SOLDIERS

    To the hills of the East we went,
      And long had we there to remain.
    When the word of recall was sent,
      Thick and fast came the drizzling rain.
    When told our return we should take,
      Our hearts in the West were and sore;
    But there did they clothes for us make:--
      They knew our hard service was o'er.
    On the mulberry grounds in our sight
      The large caterpillars were creeping;
    Lonely and still we passed the night,
      All under our carriages sleeping.

    To the hills of the East we went,
      And long had we there to remain.
    When the word of recall was sent,
      Thick and fast came the drizzling rain.
    The heavenly gourds rise to the eye,
      With their fruit hanging under the eave.
    In our chambers the sow-bug we spy;
      Their webs on our doors spiders weave.
    Our paddocks seem crowded with deer,
      With the glow-worm's light all about.
    Such thoughts, while they filled us with fear,
      We tried, but in vain, to keep out.

    To the hills of the East we went,
      And long had we there to remain.
    When the word of recall was sent,
      Thick and fast came the drizzling rain.
    On ant-hills screamed cranes with delight;
      In their rooms were our wives sighing sore.
    Our homes they had swept and made tight:--
      All at once we arrived at the door.
    The bitter gourds hanging are seen,
      From branches of chestnut-trees high.
    Three years of toil away we had been,
      Since such a sight greeted the eye.

    To the hills of the East we went,
      And long had we there to remain.
    When the word of recall was sent,
      Thick and fast came the drizzling rain.
    With its wings now here, and now there,
      Is the oriole sporting in flight.
    Those brides to their husbands repair,
      Their steeds red and bay, flecked with white.
    Each mother has fitted each sash;
      Their equipments are full and complete;
    But fresh unions, whatever their dash,
      Can ne'er with reunions compete.


THERE IS A PROPER WAY FOR DOING EVERYTHING

    In hewing an axe-shaft, how must you act?
      Another axe take, or you'll never succeed.
    In taking a wife, be sure 'tis a fact,
      That with no go-between you never can speed.

    In hewing an axe-shaft, hewing a shaft,
      For a copy you have the axe in your hand.
    In choosing a wife, you follow the craft,
      And forthwith on the mats the feast-vessels stand.




_PART II.--MINOR ODES OF THE KINGDOM_




BOOK I

_Decade of Luh Ming_


A FESTAL ODE

    With sounds of happiness the deer
      Browse on the celery of the meads.
    A nobler feast is furnished here,
      With guests renowned for noble deeds.
    The lutes are struck; the organ blows,
      Till all its tongues in movement heave.
    Each basket loaded stands, and shows
      The precious gifts the guests receive.
    They love me and my mind will teach,
    How duty's highest aim to reach.

    With sounds of happiness the deer
      The southern-wood crop in the meads,
    What noble guests surround me here,
      Distinguished for their worthy deeds!
    From them my people learn to fly
      Whate'er is mean; to chiefs they give
    A model and a pattern high;--
      They show the life they ought to live.
    Then fill their cups with spirits rare,
    Till each the banquet's joy shall share.

    With sounds of happiness the deer
      The salsola crop in the fields.
    What noble guests surround me here!
      Each lute for them its music yields.
    Sound, sound the lutes, or great or small,
      The joy harmonious to prolong;--
    And with my spirits rich crown all
      The cups to cheer the festive throng.
    Let each retire with gladdened heart,
    In his own sphere to play his part.


A FESTAL ODE COMPLIMENTING AN OFFICER

    On dashed my four steeds, without halt, without stay,
    Though toilsome and winding from Chow was the way.
    I wished to return--but the monarch's command
    Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;
        And my heart was with sadness oppressed.

    On dashed my four steeds; I ne'er slackened the reins.
    They snorted and panted--all white, with black manes.
    I wished to return, but our sovereign's command
    Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;--
        And I dared not to pause or to rest.

    Unresting the Filial doves speed in their flight,
    Ascending, then sweeping swift down from the height,
    Now grouped on the oaks. The king's high command
    Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;--
        And my father I left, sore distressed.

    Unresting the Filial doves speed in their flight,
    Now fanning the air and anon they alight
    On the medlars thick grouped. But our monarch's command
    Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;--
        Of my mother I thought with sad breast.

    My four steeds I harnessed, all white and black-maned,
    Which straight on their way, fleet and emulous strained.
    I wished to return; and now venture in song
    The wish to express, and announce how I long
        For my mother my care to attest.

     [NOTE.--Both Maou and Choo agree that this ode was composed in
     honor of the officer who narrates the story in it, although they
     say it was not written by the officer himself, but was put into
     his mouth, as it were, to express the sympathy of his entertainer
     with him, and the appreciation of his devotion to duty.]


THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP

    The woodmen's blows responsive ring,
      As on the trees they fall;
    And when the birds their sweet notes sing,
      They to each other call.
    From the dark valley comes a bird,
      And seeks the lofty tree.
    _Ying_ goes its voice, and thus it cries,
      "Companion, come to me."
    The bird, although a creature small,
      Upon its mate depends;
    And shall we men, who rank o'er all,
      Not seek to have our friends?
    All spirits love the friendly man,
      And hearken to his prayer.
    What harmony and peace they can
      Bestow, his lot shall share.

    _Hoo-hoo_ the woodmen all unite
      To shout, as trees they fell.
    They do their work with all their might;--
      What I have done I'll tell.
    I've strained and made my spirits clear,
      The fatted lambs I've killed.
    With friends who my own surname bear,
      My hall I've largely filled.
    Some may be absent, casually,
      And leave a broken line;
    But better this than absence by
      An oversight of mine.
    My court I've sprinkled and swept clean,
      Viands in order set,
    Eight dishes loaded stand with grain;
      There's store of fatted meat.
    My mother's kith and kin I'm sure
      I've widely called by name.
    That some be hindered better is
      Than I give cause for blame.

    On the hill-side the trees they fell,
      All working with good-will.
    I labor too, with equal zeal,
      And the host's part fulfil.
    Spirits I've set in order meet,
      The dishes stand in rows.
    The guests are here; no vacant seat
      A brother absent shows.
    The loss of kindly feeling oft
      From slightest things shall grow,
    Where all the fare is dry and spare,
      Resentments fierce may glow.
    My store of spirits is well strained,
      If short prove the supply,
    My messengers I straightway send,
      And what is needed buy.
    I beat the drums, and in the dance
      Lead joyously the train.
    Oh! good it is, when falls the chance
      The sparkling cup to drain.


THE RESPONSE TO A FESTAL ODE

    Heaven shields and sets thee fast.
    It round thee fair has cast
      Thy virtue pure.
    Thus richest joy is thine;--
    Increase of corn and wine,
    And every gift divine,
      Abundant, sure.

    Heaven shields and sets thee fast.
    From it thou goodness hast;
      Right are thy ways.
    Its choicest gifts 'twill pour,
    That last for evermore,
    Nor time exhaust the store
      Through endless days.

    Heaven shields and sets thee fast,
    Makes thine endeavor last
      And prosper well.
    Like hills and mountains high,
    Whose masses touch the sky;
    Like streams aye surging by;
      Thine increase swell!

    With rite and auspice fair,
    Thine offerings thou dost bear,
      And son-like give,
    The season's round from spring,
    To olden duke and king,
    Whose words to thee we bring:--
      "Forever live."

    The spirits of thy dead
    Pour blessings on thy head,
      Unnumbered sweet.
    Thy subjects, simple, good,
    Enjoy their drink and food.
    Our tribes of every blood
      Follow thy feet.

    Like moons that wax in light;
    Or suns that scale the height;
      Or ageless hill;
    Nor change, nor autumn know;
    As pine and cypress grow;
    The sons that from thee flow
      Be lasting still!


AN ODE OF CONGRATULATION

    The russet pear-tree stands there all alone;
    How bright the growth of fruit upon it shown!
    The King's affairs no stinting hands require,
    And days prolonged still mock our fond desire.
    But time has brought the tenth month of the year;
    My woman's heart is torn with wound severe.
    Surely my warrior lord might now appear!

    The russet pear-tree stands there all alone;
    How dense the leafy shade all o'er it thrown!
    The King's affairs require no slackening hand,
    And our sad hearts their feelings can't command.
    The plants and trees in beauty shine; 'tis spring.
    From off my heart its gloom I fain would fling.
    This season well my warrior home may bring!

    I climbed that northern hill, and medlars sought;
    The spring nigh o'er, to ripeness they were brought.
    "The King's affairs cannot be slackly done";--
    'Tis thus our parents mourn their absent son.
    But now his sandal car must broken be;
    I seem his powerful steeds worn out to see.
    Relief has gone! He can't be far from me!

    Alas! they can't have marched; they don't arrive!
    More hard it grows with my distress to strive.
    The time is passed, and still he is not here!
    My sorrows multiply; great is my fear.
    But lo! by reeds and shell I have divined,
    That he is near, they both assure my mind;--
    Soon at my side my warrior I shall find!


AN ODE ON THE RETURN OF THE TROOPS

    Forth from the city in our cars we drove,
      Until we halted at the pasture ground.
    The general came, and there with ardor strove
      A note of zeal throughout the host to sound.
      "Direct from court I come, by orders bound
    The march to hasten";--it was thus he spake.
      Then with the carriage-officers around,
    He strictly charged them quick despatch to make:--
    "Urgent the King's affairs, forthwith the field we take."

    While there we stopped, the second corps appeared,
      And 'twixt us and the city took its place.
    The guiding standard was on high upreared,
      Where twining snakes the tortoises embrace,
      While oxtails, crest-like, did the staff's top grace.
    We watched the sheet unfolding grandly wave;
      Each flag around showed falcons on its face.
    With anxious care looked on our leader brave;
    Watchful the carriage-officers appeared and grave.

    Nan Chung, our chief, had heard the royal call
      To go where inroad by Heen-yuns was made,
    And 'cross the frontier build a barrier wall.
      Numerous his chariots, splendidly arrayed!
      The standards--this where dragons were displayed,
    And that where snakes round tortoises were coiled--
      Terrific flew. "Northward our host," he said,
    "Heaven's son sends forth to tame the Heen-yun wild."
    Soon by this awful chief would all their tribes be foiled.

    When first we took the field, and northward went,
      The millet was in flower;--a prospect sweet.
    Now when our weary steps are homeward bent,
      The snow falls fast, the mire impedes our feet.
      Many the hardships we were called to meet,
    Ere the King's orders we had all fulfilled.
      No rest we had; often our friends to greet
    The longing came; but vain regrets we stilled;
    By tablets stern our hearts with fresh resolve were thrilled.

    "Incessant chirp the insects in the grass;
      All round about the nimble hoppers spring.
    From them our thoughts quick to our husbands pass,
      Although those thoughts our hearts with anguish wring.
      Oh! could we see them, what relief 'twould bring!
    Our hearts, rejoiced, at once would feel at rest."
      Thus did our wives, their case deploring, sing;
    The while our leader farther on had pressed,
    And smitten with his power the wild Jung of the west.

    The spring days now are lengthening out their light;
      The plants and trees are dressed in living green;
    The orioles resting sing, or wing their flight;
      Our wives amid the southern-wood are seen,
      Which white they bring, to feed their silkworms keen.
    Our host, returned, sweeps onwards to the hall,
      Where chiefs are questioned, shown the captives mean
    Nan Chung, majestic, draws the gaze of all,
    Proud o'er the barbarous foe his victories to recall.




BOOK II

_The Decade of Pih H'wa_


AN ODE APPROPRIATE TO A FESTIVITY

    The dew lies heavy all around,
    Nor, till the sun shines, leaves the ground.
    Far into night we feasting sit;
    We drink, and none his place may quit.

    The dew lies heavy, and its gems
    Stud the luxuriant, grassy stems.
    The happy night with wassail rings;
    So feasted here the former kings.

    The jujube and the willow-tree
    All fretted with the dew we see.
    Each guest's a prince of noble line,
    In whom the virtues all combine.

    The _t‘ung_ and _e_ their fruits display,
    Pendant from every graceful spray.
    My guests are joyous and serene,
    No haggard eye, no ruffled mien.




BOOK III

_The Decade of T‘ung Kung_


CELEBRATING A HUNTING EXPEDITION

    Our chariots were well-built and firm,
      Well-matched our steeds, and fleet and strong.
    Four, sleek and large, each chariot drew,
      And eastward thus we drove along.

    Our hunting cars were light and good,
      Each with its team of noble steeds.
    Still further east we took the way
      To Foo-mere's grassy plains that leads.

    Loud-voiced, the masters of the chase
      Arranged the huntsmen, high and low.
    While banners streamed, and ox-tails flew,
      We sought the prey on distant Gaou.

    Each with full team, the princes came,
      A lengthened train in bright array.
    In gold-wrought slippers, knee-caps red,
      They looked as on an audience day.

    Each right thumb wore the metal guard;
      On the left arm its shield was bound.
    In unison the arrows flew;
      The game lay piled upon the ground.

    The leaders of the tawny teams
      Sped on their course, direct and true.
    The drivers perfect skill displayed;
      Like blow well aimed each arrow flew.

    Neighing and pleased, the steeds returned;
      The bannered lines back slowly came.
    No jostling rude disgraced the crowd;
      The king declined large share of game.

    So did this famous hunt proceed!
      So free it was from clamorous sound!
    Well does our King become his place,
      And high the deeds his reign have crowned!


THE KING'S ANXIETY FOR HIS MORNING LEVÉE

    How goes the night? For heavy morning sleep
    Ill suits the king who men would loyal keep.
    The courtyard, ruddy with the torch's light,
    Proclaims unspent the deepest hour of night.
    Already near the gate my lords appear;
    Their tinkling bells salute my wakeful ear.

    How goes the night? I may not slumber on.
    Although not yet the night is wholly gone,
    The paling torch-light in the court below
    Gives token that the hours swift-footed go.
    Already at the gate my lords appear;
    Their tinkling bells with measured sound draw near.

    How goes the night? I may not slumber now.
    The darkness smiles with morning on its brow.
    The courtyard torch no more gives forth its ray,
    But heralds with its smoke the coming day.
    My princes pass the gate, and gather there;
    I see their banners floating in the air.


MORAL LESSONS FROM NATURAL FACTS

    All true words fly, as from yon reedy marsh
    The crane rings o'er the wild its screaming harsh.
    Vainly you try reason in chains to keep;--
    Freely it moves as fish sweeps through the deep.
    Hate follows love, as 'neath those sandal-trees
    The withered leaves the eager searcher sees.
    The hurtful ne'er without some good was born;--
    The stones that mar the hill will grind the corn.

    All true words spread, as from the marsh's eye
    The crane's sonorous note ascends the sky.
    Goodness throughout the widest sphere abides,
    As fish round isle and through the ocean glides.
    And lesser good near greater you shall see,
    As grows the paper shrub 'neath sandal-tree.
    And good emerges from what man condemns;--
    Those stones that mar the hill will polish gems.




BOOK IV

_The Decade of K‘e-foo_


ON THE COMPLETION OF A ROYAL PALACE

    On yonder banks a palace, lo! upshoots,
      The tender blue of southern hill behind;
    Firm-founded, like the bamboo's clamping roots;
      Its roof made pine-like, to a point defined.
    Fraternal love here bears its precious fruits,
      And unfraternal schemes be ne'er designed!

    Ancestral sway is his. The walls they rear,
      Five thousand cubits long; and south and west
    The doors are placed. Here will the king appear,
      Here laugh, here talk, here sit him down and rest.

    To mould the walls, the frames they firmly tie;
      The toiling builders beat the earth and lime.
    The walls shall vermin, storm, and bird defy;--
      Fit dwelling is it for his lordly prime.

    Grand is the hall the noble lord ascends;--
      In height, like human form most reverent, grand;
    And straight, as flies the shaft when bow unbends;
      Its tints, like hues when pheasant's wings expand.

    High pillars rise the level court around;
      The pleasant light the open chamber steeps;
    And deep recesses, wide alcoves, are found,
      Where our good king in perfect quiet sleeps.

    Laid is the bamboo mat on rush mat square;--
      Here shall he sleep, and, waking, say, "Divine
    What dreams are good? For bear and grizzly bear,
      And snakes and cobras, haunt this couch of mine."

    Then shall the chief diviner glad reply,
      "The bears foreshow that Heaven will send you sons.
    The snakes and cobras daughters prophesy.
      These auguries are all auspicious ones.

    "Sons shall be his--on couches lulled to rest.
      The little ones, enrobed, with sceptres play;
    Their infant cries are loud as stern behest;
      Their knees the vermeil covers shall display.
    As king hereafter one shall be addressed;
      The rest, our princes, all the States shall sway.

    "And daughters also to him shall be born.
      They shall be placed upon the ground to sleep;
    Their playthings tiles, their dress the simplest worn;
      Their part alike from good and ill to keep,
    And ne'er their parents' hearts to cause to mourn;
      To cook the food, and spirit-malt to steep."


THE CONDITION OF KING SEUEN'S FLOCKS

    Who dares to say your sheep are few?
      The flocks are all three hundred strong.
    Who dares despise your cattle too?
      There ninety, black-lipped, press along.
    Though horned the sheep, yet peaceful each appears;
    The cattle come with moist and flapping ears.

    These climb the heights, those drink the pool;
      Some lie at rest, while others roam.
    With rain-coats, and thin splint hats cool,
      And bearing food, your herdsmen come.
    In thirties, ranged by hues, the creatures stand;
    Fit victims they will yield at your command.

    Your herdsmen twigs and fagots bring,
      With prey of birds and beasts for food.
    Your sheep, untouched by evil thing,
      Approach, their health and vigor good.
    The herdsman's waving hand they all behold,
    And docile come, and pass into the fold.

    Your herdsmen dream;--fish take the place
      Of men; on banners falcons fly,
    Displacing snakes and tortoises.
      The augur tells his prophecy:--
    "The first betoken plenteous years; the change
    Of banners shows of homes a widening range."




BOOK V

_The Decade of Seaou Min_


A EUNUCH COMPLAINS OF HIS FATE

    A few fine lines, at random drawn,
    Like the shell-pattern wrought in lawn
      To hasty glance will seem.
    My trivial faults base slander's slime
    Distorted into foulest crime,
      And men me worthless deem.

    A few small points, pricked down on wood,
    May be made out a picture good
      Of the bright Southern Sieve.
    Who planned, and helped those slanderers vile,
    My name with base lies to defile?
      Unpitied, here I grieve.

    With babbling tongues you go about,
    And only scheme how to make out
      The lies you scatter round.
    Here me--Be careful what you say;
    People ere long your words will weigh,
      And liars you'll be found.

    Clever you are with changeful schemes!
    How else could all your evil dreams
      And slanders work their way?
    Men now believe you; by and by,
    The truth found out, each vicious lie
      Will ill for ill repay.

    The proud rejoice; the sufferer weeps.
    O azure Heaven, from out thy deeps
      Why look in silence down?
    Behold those proud men and rebuke;
    With pity on the sufferers look,
      And on the evil frown.

    Those slanderers I would gladly take,
    With all who help their schemes to make,
      And to the tigers throw.
    If wolves and tigers such should spare,
    I'd hurl them 'midst the freezing air,
      Where the keen north winds blow.
    And should the North compassion feel
    I'd fling them to great Heaven, to deal
      On them its direst woe.

    As on the sacred heights you dwell,
    My place is in the willow dell,
      One is the other near.
    Before you, officers, I spread
    These lines by me, poor eunuch, made.
      Think not Mang-tsze severe.


AN OFFICER DEPLORES THE MISERY OF THE TIME

    In the fourth month summer shines;
    In the sixth the heat declines.
    Nature thus grants men relief;
    Tyranny gives only grief.
    Were not my forefathers men?
    Can my suffering 'scape their ken?

    In the cold of autumn days
    Each plant shrivels and decays.
    Nature then is hard and stern;
    Living things sad lessons learn.
    Friends dispersed, all order gone,
    Place of refuge have I none.

    Winter days are wild and fierce;
    Rapid gusts each crevice pierce.
    Such is my unhappy lot,
    Unbefriended and forgot!
    Others all can happy be;
    I from misery ne'er am free.

    On the mountains are fine trees;
    Chestnuts, plum-trees, there one sees.
    All the year their forms they show;
    Stately more and more they grow.
    Noble turned to ravening thief!
    What the cause? This stirs my grief.

    Waters from that spring appear
    Sometimes foul, and sometimes clear,
    Changing oft as falls the rain,
    Or the sky grows bright again.
    New misfortunes every day
    Still befall me, misery's prey.

    Aid from mighty streams obtained,
    Southern States are shaped and drained.
    Thus the Keang and Han are thanked,
    And as benefactors ranked.
    Weary toil my vigor drains;
    All unnoticed it remains!

    Hawks and eagles mount the sky;
    Sturgeons in deep waters lie.
    Out of reach, they safely get,
    Arrow fear not, nor the net.
    Hiding-place for me there's none;
    Here I stay, and make my moan.

    Ferns upon the hills abound;
    _Ke_ and _e_ in marshy ground.
    Each can boast its proper place,
    Where it grows for use or grace.
    I can only sing the woe,
    Which, ill-starred, I undergo.


ON THE ALIENATION OF A FRIEND

    Gently and soft the east wind blows,
      And then there falls the pelting rain.
    When anxious fears pressed round you close,
      Then linked together were we twain.
    Now happy, and your mind at rest,
    You turn and cast me from your breast.

    Gently and soft the east wind blows,
      And then there comes the whirlwind wild.
    When anxious fears pressed round you close,
      Your bosom held me as a child.
    Now happy, and in peaceful state,
    You throw me off and quite forget.

    Gently and soft the east wind blows,
      Then round the rocky height it storms.
    Each plant its leaves all dying shows;
      The trees display their withered forms.
    My virtues great forgotten all,
    You keep in mind my faults, though small.




BOOK VI

_The Decade of Pih Shan_


A PICTURE OF HUSBANDRY

    Various the toils which fields so large demand!
    We choose the seed; we take our tools in hand.
    In winter for our work we thus prepare;
    Then in the spring, bearing the sharpened 'share,
    We to the acres go that south incline,
    And to the earth the different seeds consign.
    Soon, straight and large, upward each plant aspires;--
    All happens as our noble lord desires.

    The plants will ear; within their sheath confined,
    The grains will harden, and be good in kind.
    Nor darnel these, nor wolf's-tail grass infests;
    From core and leaf we pick the insect pests,
    And pick we those that eat the joints and roots:--
    So do we guard from harm the growing fruits.
    May the great Spirit, whom each farmer names,
    Those insects take, and cast them to the flames!

    The clouds o'erspread the sky in masses dense,
    And gentle rain down to the earth dispense.
    First may the public fields the blessing get,
    And then with it our private fields we wet!
    Patches of unripe grain the reaper leaves;
    And here and there ungathered are the sheaves.
    Handfuls besides we drop upon the ground,
    And ears untouched in numbers lie around;--
    These by the poor and widows shall be found.

    When wives and children to the toilers come,
    Bringing provisions from each separate home,
    Our lord of long descent shall oft appear;
    The Inspector also, glad the men to cheer.
    They too shall thank the Spirits of the air,
    With sacrifices pure for all their care;
    Now red, now black, the victims that they slay,
    As North or South the sacrifice they pay;
    While millet bright the altars always show;--
    And we shall thus still greater blessings know.


THE COMPLAINT OF AN OFFICER

    O Heaven above, before whose light
    Revealed is every deed and thought,
            To thee I cry.
    Hither on toilsome service brought,
    In this wild K‘ew I watch time's flight,
            And sadly sigh.
    The second month had just begun,
    When from the east we took our way.
            Through summer hot
    We passed, and many a wintry day.
    Summer again its course has run.
            O bitter lot!
    There are my compeers, gay at court,
    While here the tears my face begrime.
            I'd fain return--
    But there is that dread net for crime!
    The fear of it the wish cuts short.
            In vain I burn!

    Ere we the royal city left,
    The sun and moon renewed the year.
            We marched in hope.
    Now to its close this year is near.
    Return deferred, of hope bereft,
            All mourn and mope.
    My lonesome state haunts aye my breast,
    While duties grow, and cares increase,
            Too hard to bear.
    Toils that oppress me never cease;
    Not for a moment dare I rest,
            Nigh to despair.
    I think with fond regard of those,
    Who in their posts at court remain,
            My friends of old.
    Fain would I be with them again,
    But fierce reproof return would cause.
            This post I hold.

    When for the West I left my home,
    The sun and moon both mildly shone,
            Our hearts to cheer.
    We'd soon be back, our service done!
    Alas! affairs more urgent come,
            And fix us here.
    The year is hastening to expire.
    We gather now the southern-wood,
            The beans we reap;--
    That for its fragrance, these for food.
    Such things that constant care require
            Me anxious keep.
    Thinking of friends still at their posts,
    I rise and pass the night outside,
            So vexed my mind.
    But soon what changes may betide?
    I here will stay, whate'er it costs,
            And be resigned.

    My honored friends, O do not deem
    Your rest which seems secure from ill
            Will ever last!
    Your duties quietly fulfil,
    And hold the upright in esteem,
            With friendship fast.
    So shall the Spirits hear your cry,
    You virtuous make, and good supply,
            In measure vast.

    My honored friends, O do not deem
    Repose that seems secure from ill
            Will lasting prove.
    Your duties quietly fulfil,
    And hold the upright in esteem,
            With earnest love.
    So shall the Spirits hear your prayer,
    And on you happiness confer,
            Your hopes above.




BOOK VII

_Decade of Sang Hoo_


THE REJOICINGS OF A BRIDEGROOM

    With axle creaking, all on fire I went,
      To fetch my young and lovely bride.
    No thirst or hunger pangs my bosom rent--
      I only longed to have her by my side.
    I feast with her, whose virtue fame had told,
    Nor need we friends our rapture to behold.

    The long-tailed pheasants surest covert find,
      Amid the forest on the plain.
    Here from my virtuous bride, of noble mind,
      And person tall, I wisdom gain.
    I praise her while we feast, and to her say,
    "The love I bear you ne'er will know decay.

    "Poor we may be; spirits and viands fine
      My humble means will not afford.
    But what we have, we'll taste and not repine;
      From us will come no grumbling word.
    And though to you no virtue I can add,
    Yet we will sing and dance, in spirit glad.

    "I oft ascend that lofty ridge with toil,
      And hew large branches from the oaks;
    Then of their leafy glory them I spoil,
      And fagots form with vigorous strokes.
    Returning tired, your matchless grace I see,
    And my whole soul dissolves in ecstasy.

    "To the high hills I looked, and urged each steed;
      The great road next was smooth and plain.
    Up hill, o'er dale, I never slackened speed;
      Like lute-string sounded every rein.
    I knew, my journey ended, I should come
    To you, sweet bride, the comfort of my home."


AGAINST LISTENING TO SLANDERERS

    Like the blueflies buzzing round,
      And on the fences lighting,
    Are the sons of slander found,
      Who never cease their biting.
    O thou happy, courteous king,
    To the winds their slanders fling.

    Buzzing round the blueflies hear,
      About the jujubes flocking!
    So the slanderers appear,
      Whose calumnies are shocking.
    By no law or order bound,
    All the kingdom they confound.

    How they buzz, those odious flies,
      Upon the hazels clust'ring!
    And as odious are the lies
      Of those slanderers blust'ring.
    Hatred stirred between us two
    Shows the evil they can do.




BOOK VIII

_The Decade of Too Jin Sze_


IN PRAISE OF BY-GONE SIMPLICITY

    In the old capital they stood,
      With yellow fox-furs plain,
    Their manners all correct and good,
      Speech free from vulgar stain.
    Could we go back to Chow's old days,
    All would look up to them with praise.

    In the old capital they wore
      _T‘ae_ hats and black caps small;
    And ladies, who famed surnames bore,
      Their own thick hair let fall.
    Such simple ways are seen no more,
    And the changed manners I deplore.

    Ear-rings, made of plainest gold,
      In the old days were worn.
    Each lady of a noble line
      A Yin or Keih seemed born.
    Such officers and ladies now
    I see not and my sorrows grow.

    With graceful sweep their girdles fell,
      Then in the days of old.
    The ladies' side-hair, with a swell,
      Like scorpion's tail, rose bold.
    Such, if I saw them in these days,
    I'd follow with admiring gaze.

    So hung their girdles, not for show;--
      To their own length 'twas due.
    'Twas not by art their hair curled so;--
      By nature so it grew.
    I seek such manners now in vain,
    And pine for them with longing pain.

     [NOTE.--Yin and Keih were clan names of great families, the
     ladies of which would be leaders of fashion in the capital.]


A WIFE BEMOANS HER HUSBAND'S ABSENCE

    So full am I of anxious thought,
    Though all the morn king-grass I've sought,
        To fill my arms I fail.
    Like wisp all-tangled is my hair!
    To wash it let me home repair.
        My lord soon may I hail!

    Though 'mong the indigo I've wrought
    The morning long; through anxious thought,
        My skirt's filled but in part.
    Within five days he was to appear;
    The sixth has come and he's not here.
        Oh! how this racks my heart!

    When here we dwelt in union sweet,
    If the hunt called his eager feet,
        His bow I cased for him.
    Or if to fish he went away,
    And would be absent all the day,
        His line I put in trim.

    What in his angling did he catch?
    Well worth the time it was to watch
        How bream and tench he took.
    Men thronged upon the banks and gazed;
    At bream and tench they looked amazed,
        The triumphs of his hook.


THE EARL OF SHAOU'S WORK

    As the young millet, by the genial rain
      Enriched, shoots up luxuriant and tall,
    So, when we southward marched with toil and pain,
      The Earl of Shaou cheered and inspired us all.

    We pushed our barrows, and our burdens bore;
      We drove our wagons, and our oxen led.
    "The work once done, our labor there is o'er,
      And home we travel," to ourselves we said.

    Close kept our footmen round the chariot track;
      Our eager host in close battalions sped.
    "When once our work is done, then we go back,
      Our labor over," to themselves they said.

    Hard was the work we had at Seay to do,
      But Shaou's great earl the city soon upreared.
    The host its service gave with ardor true;--
      Such power in all the earl's commands appeared!

    We did on plains and low lands what was meet;
      We cleared the springs and streams, the land to drain.
    The Earl of Shaou announced his work complete,
      And the King's heart reposed, at rest again.


THE PLAINT OF KING YEW'S FORSAKEN WIFE

    The fibres of the white-flowered rush
      Are with the white grass bound.
    So do the two together go,
      In closest union found.
    And thus should man and wife abide,
      The twain combined in one;
    But this bad man sends me away,
      And bids me dwell alone.

    Both rush and grass from the bright clouds
      The genial dew partake.
    Kind and impartial, nature's laws
      No odious difference make.
    But providence appears unkind;
      Events are often hard.
    This man, to principle untrue,
      Denies me his regard.

    Northward the pools their waters send,
      To flood each paddy field;
    So get the fields the sap they need,
      Their store of rice to yield.
    But that great man no deed of grace
      Deigns to bestow on me.
    My songs are sighs. At thought of him
      My heart aches wearily.

    The mulberry branches they collect,
      And use their food to cook;
    But I must use a furnace small,
      That pot nor pan will brook.
    So me that great man badly treats,
      Nor uses as his wife,
    Degrades me from my proper place,
      And fills with grief my life.

    The bells and drums inside the court
      Men stand without and hear;
    So should the feelings in my breast,
      To him distinct appear.
    All-sorrowful, I think of him,
      Longing to move his love;
    But he vouchsafes no kind response;
      His thoughts far from me rove.

    The marabow stands on the dam,
      And to repletion feeds;
    The crane deep in the forest cries,
      Nor finds the food it needs.
    So in my room the concubine
      By the great man is placed;
    While I with cruel banishment
      Am cast out and disgraced.

    The yellow ducks sit on the dam.
      With left wing gathered low;
    So on each other do they lean,
      And their attachment show.
    And love should thus the man and wife
      In closest concord bind;
    But that man turns away from me,
      And shows a fickle mind.

    When one stands on a slab of stone,
      No higher than the ground,
    Nothing is added to his height;--
      Low with the stone he's found.
    So does the favorite's mean estate
      Render that great man mean,
    While I by him, to distance sent,
      Am pierced with sorrow keen.


HOSPITALITY

    A few gourd leaves that waved about
      Cut down and boiled;--the feast how spare!
    But the good host his spirits takes,
      Pours out a cup, and proves them rare.

    A single rabbit on the mat,
      Or baked, or roast:--how small the feast!
    But the good host his spirits takes,
      And fills the cup of every guest.

    A single rabbit on the mat,
      Roasted or broiled:--how poor the meal!
    But the guests from the spirit vase
      Fill their host's cup, and drink his weal.

    A single rabbit on the mat,
      Roasted or baked:--no feast we think!
    But from the spirit vase they take,
      Both host and guests, and joyous drink.


ON THE MISERY OF SOLDIERS

    Yellow now is all the grass;
    All the days in marching pass.
    On the move is every man;
    Hard work, far and near, they plan.

    Black is every plant become;
    Every man is torn from home.
    Kept on foot, our state is sad;--
    As if we no feelings had!

    Not rhinoceroses we!
    Tigers do we care to be?
    Fields like these so desolate
    Are to us a hateful fate.

    Long-tailed foxes pleased may hide
    'Mong the grass, where they abide.
    We, in box carts slowly borne,
    On the great roads plod and mourn.




_PART III.--GREATER ODES OF THE KINGDOM_




BOOK I

_Decade of King Wan_


CELEBRATING KING WAN

    The royal Wan now rests on high,
    Enshrined in brightness of the sky.
    Chow as a state had long been known,
    And Heaven's decree at last was shown.
    Its lords had borne a glorious name;
    God kinged them when the season came.
    King Wan ruled well when earth he trod;
    Now moves his spirit near to God.

    A strong-willed, earnest king was Wan,
    And still his fame rolls widening on.
    The gifts that God bestowed on Chow
    Belong to Wan's descendants now.
    Heaven blesses still with gifts divine
    The hundred scions of his line;
    And all the officers of Chow
    From age to age more lustrous grow.

    More lustrous still from age to age,
    All reverent plans their zeal engage;
    And brilliant statesmen owe their birth
    To this much-favored spot of earth.
    They spring like products of the land--
    The men by whom the realm doth stand.
    Such aid their numerous bands supply,
    That Wan rests tranquilly on high.

    Deep were Wan's thoughts, sustained his ways;
    His reverence lit its trembling rays.
    Resistless came great Heaven's decree;
    The sons of Shang must bend the knee;--
    The sons of Shang, each one a king,
    In numbers beyond numbering.
    Yet as God spoke, so must it be:--
    The sons of Shang all bent the knee.

    Now each to Chow his homage pays--
    So dark and changing are Heaven's ways.
    When we pour our libations here,
    The officers of Shang appear,
    Quick and alert to give their aid:--
    Such is the service by them paid,
    While still they do not cast aside
    The cap and broidered axe--their pride.
    Ye servants of our line of kings,
    Remember him from whom it springs.

    Remember him from whom it springs;--
    Let this give to your virtue wings.
    Seek harmony with Heaven's great mind;--
    So shall you surest blessing find.
    Ere Shang had lost the nation's heart,
    Its monarchs all with God had part
    In sacrifice. From them you see
    'Tis hard to keep high Heaven's decree.

    'Tis hard to keep high Heaven's decree!
    O sin not, or you cease to be.
    To add true lustre to your name,
    See Shang expire in Heaven's dread flame.
    For Heaven's high dealings are profound,
    And far transcend all sense and sound.
    From Wan your pattern you must draw,
    And all the States will own your law.




[_Selections from Book II are omitted._]




BOOK III

_Decade of Tang_


KING SEUEN ON THE OCCASION OF A GREAT DROUGHT

    Grand shone the Milky Way on high,
    With brilliant span athwart the sky,
      Nor promise gave of rain.
    King Seuen long gazed; then from him broke,
    In anguished tones the words he spoke.
      Well might he thus complain!
    "O Heaven, what crimes have we to own,
    That death and ruin still come down?
    Relentless famine fills our graves.
    Pity the king who humbly craves!
      Our miseries never cease.
    To every Spirit I have vowed;
    The choicest victim's blood has flowed.
    As offerings I have freely paid
    My store of gems and purest jade.
      Hear me, and give release!

    "The drought consumes us. As on wing
    Its fervors fly, and torment bring.
    With purest mind and ceaseless care
    My sacrifices I prepare.
    At thine own border altars, Heaven,
    And in my father's fane, I've given
      What might relief have found.
    What Powers above, below, have sway,
    To all my precious gifts I pay,
      Then bury in the ground.
    Yes, every Spirit has received
    Due honor, and, still unrelieved,
      Our sufferings greater grow.
    How-tseih can't give the needed aid,
    And help from God is still delayed!
    The country lies a ruined waste.
    O would that I alone might taste
      This bitter cup of woe!

    "The drought consumes us. Nor do I
    To fix the blame on others try.
    I quake with dread; the risk I feel,
    As when I hear the thunders peal,
      Or fear its sudden crash.
    Our black-haired race, a remnant now,
    Will every one be swept from Chow,
      As by the lightning's flash.
    Nor I myself will live alone.
    God from his great and heavenly throne
      Will not spare even me.
    O friends and officers, come, blend
    Your prayers with mine; come, lowly bend.
    Chow's dynasty will pass away;
    Its altars at no distant day
      In ruins all shall be!

    "The drought consumes us. It keeps on
    Its fatal course. All hope is gone.
    The air more fierce and fiery glows.
    Where can I fly? Where seek repose?
      Death marks me for its prey.
    Above, no saving hand! Around,
    No hope, no comfort, can be found.
    The dukes and ministers of old
    Give us no help. Can ye withhold
    Your sympathy, who lately reigned?
    And parents, how are you restrained,
      In this so dreadful day?

    "The drought consumes us. There on high
    The hills are parched. The streams are dry.
    Drought's demon stalks abroad in ire,
    And scatters wide his flames and fire.
      Alas, my woful heart!
    The fires within its strength consume;
    The heat without creates a gloom
      That from it will not part.
    The dukes and ministers by-gone
    Respond not to my prayer and moan.
    God in great Heaven, permission give
    That I may in retirement live,
      And try to heal my smart!

    "The drought consumes us. Still I strive,
    And will not leave while I survive.
      Duty to shun I fear.
    Why upon me has come this drought?
    Vainly I try to search it out,
      Vainly, with quest severe.
    For a good harvest soon I prayed,
    Nor late the rites I duly paid,
    To Spirits of the air and land.
    There wanted nought they could demand,
      Their favor to secure.
    God in great Heaven, be just, be kind!
    Thou dost not bear me in Thy mind.
    My cry, ye wisest Spirits, hear!
    Ye whom I constantly revere,
      Why do I this endure?

    "The drought consumes us. People fly,
    And leave their homes. Each social tie
      And bond of rule is snapt.
    The Heads of Boards are all perplexed;
    My premier's mind is sorely vexed;
      In trouble all are wrapt.
    The Masters of my Horse and Guards;
    My cook, and men of different wards:--
    Not one has from the struggle shrunk.
    Though feeling weak, they have not sunk,
      But done their best to aid.
    To the great sky I look with pain;--
    Why do these grievous sorrows rain
      On my devoted head?

    "Yes, at the mighty sky I gaze,
    And lo! the stars pursue their maze,
      And sparkle clear and bright.
    Ah! Heaven nor helps, nor seems to ken.
    Great officers and noble men,
    With all your powers ye well have striven,
    And reverently have sought from Heaven
      Its aid in our great fight.
    My death is near; but oh! keep on,
    And do as thus far you have done.
      Regard you only me?
    No, for yourselves and all your friends,
    On whom for rule the land depends,
      You seek security.
    I turn my gaze to the great sky;--
    When shall this drought be done, and I
      Quiet and restful be?"




_PART IV.--ODES OF THE TEMPLE AND ALTAR_




BOOK I

_Sacrificial Odes of Chow_


APPROPRIATE TO A SACRIFICE TO KING WAN

    My offerings here are given,
      A ram, a bull.
    Accept them, mighty Heaven,
      All-bountiful.

    Thy statutes, O great king,
      I keep, I love;
    So on the realm to bring
      Peace from above.

    From Wan comes blessing rich;
      Now on the right
    He owns those gifts to which
      Him I invite.

    Do I not night and day,
      Revere great Heaven,
    That thus its favor may
      To Chow be given?


ON SACRIFICING TO THE KINGS WOO, CHING, AND K‘ANG

    The arm of Woo was full of might;
      None could his fire withstand;
    And Ching and K‘ang stood forth to sight,
      As kinged by God's own hand.

    We err not when we call them sage.
      How grandly they maintained
    Their hold of all the heritage
      That Wan and Woo had gained!

    As here we worship, they descend,
      While bells and drums resound,
    And stones and lutes their music blend.
      With blessings we are crowned.

    The rites correctly we discharge;
      The feast we freely share.
    Those Sires Chow's glory will enlarge,
      And ever for it care.


THE END




Transcriber's Note


* The footnotes have been moved to the end of the respective chapters.

* Hyphenation of words left as printed.

* Punctuation errors have been corrected.

* Pg x Corrected spelling of word "Cnodition" to "Condition" located in
"The Cnodition of King ..."

* Pg 16 Corrected spelling of words "i nthe" to "in the" located in
"... appropriated i nthe ancestral ..."

* Pg 16 Corrected spelling of word "Thre" to "Three" located in
"... Hall of the Thre Families?"

* Pg 48 Corrected spelling of word "one" to "once" located in "Tsz-kung
one said to ..."

* Pg 194 Corrected spelling of word "FESTEL" to "FESTAL" located in "A
FESTAL ODE"





End of Project Gutenberg's The Wisdom of Confucius, by Epiphanius Wilson