Ancient China Simplified Part 12

Take, for instance, the subject of music, which always played in Chinese ceremonial a prominent part not easy for us now to understand. One of the chief sights of the modern Confucian residence is the music-room, containing specimens of all the ancient musical instruments, which, on occasion, are still played upon in chorus; a picture of them has been published by Father Tschepe. (See page 128.) According to the description given by this European visitor, the music is of a most discordant and ear- splitting description: but that does not necessarily dispose of the question; for even parts of Wagner's Ring are a meaningless clang to those who hear the music for the first time, and who are unable to read the score or to follow out the "cla.s.sical" style.

As we have said before, the ancient emperors, at their banquets given to va.s.sals and others, always had musical accompaniment.

In 626 B.C., when the ruler of Ts'in received a mission from "the Tartar king" (probably a local king or chief), he was much struck with the sagacity of the envoy sent to him. This envoy still spoke the Tsin language or dialect; but his parents, who were of Tsin origin, had adopted Tartar manners. The envoy was also an author, and his work, in two sections, had survived at least up to the second century B.C.: he is cla.s.sed amongst the "Miscellaneous Writers." The subject of the conversation was the superiority of simple Tartar administration as compared with the intricate ritual of the Odes, the Book, the Rites, and the "Music" of orthodox China. The beginnings of Lao-tsz's Taoism seem to peep out from this Tartar's words, just as they do with other "Miscellaneous"

authors. The wily Ts'in ruler, in order to secure this clever envoy for his own service, sent two bands of female musicians as a present to the Tartar king, so as to make him less virile; 140 years later the cunning ruler of Ts'i did much the same thing in order to prevent the Duke of Lu from growing too strong; and the immediate consequence was that Confucius left his fickle master in disgust. Ki-chah, Prince of Wu, was entertained whilst at Lu with specimens of music from the different states. When he came to the Ts'in music, he said: "Ha! ha! the words are Chinese! When Ts'in becomes quite Chinese, it will have a great future." This remark suggests a Ts'in language or dialect different from that of Tsin, and also from that of more orthodox China. In 546 B.C., when a mission from Ts 'u to Tsin was accompanied by a high officer from the disputed orthodox state of Ts'ai lying between those two great powers, the theory of music as an adjunct to government was discussed. Confucius' view a century later was that music best reflected a nation's manners, and that in good old times authority was manifested quite as much in rites and ceremonies as in laws and p.r.o.nouncements. Previous to that, in 582, it had been discovered that Ts'u had a musical style of her own; and in 579, when the Tsin envoy was received there in state, among other instruments of music observed there were suspended bells.

Thus both Ts'in and Ts'u at this date were still in the learning stage. Before ridiculing the idea that music could in any way serve as a subst.i.tute for preaching or commanding, we must reflect upon the awe-inspiring contribution of music to our own religious services, not to mention the "speaking" effect of our Western nocturnes, symphonies, and operatic music generally.

In 562 B.C., when a statesman of Tsin (whose fame in this connection endures to our own days) succeeded in establishing a permanent understanding with the Tartars, based upon joint trading rights and reasonable mutual concessions, the principle of interesting the Tartars in cultivation, industry, and so on; as a reward for his distinguished services, he was presented with certain music, which meant that he had the political right to have certain musical airs performed in his presence. This concession ceases to seem ridiculous or even strange to us if we reflect what an honour it would have been to, say, the Duke of Wellington, or to Nelson, had the right to play "G.o.d Save the King" at dinner been granted to his family band of musicians. Four centuries before this, when the Emperor Muh made his tour amongst the Tartars, he always commanded that one particular musical air (named) should be struck up by his musicians on certain occasions (always stated in the narrative). In Tsin, and probably elsewhere, music-masters seem to have combined soothsaying and philosophy with their functions; thus, in 558 the music-master of that state was questioned on the arts of good government, to which he replied: "Goodness and justice"--two special antipathies, by the way, of Lao-tsz the Taoist, who lived about this time as an archive-keeper at the metropolis. In the year 555, either this same man or another musical prophet in Tsin rea.s.sured his fellow- countrymen who were dreading a Ts'u invasion with the following words: "I have just been conducting a song consisting of north and south airs, and the latter sound as though the south would be defeated." But music also had its lighter uses, for we have seen in Chapter VI. how in 549 two Tsin generals took their ease in a comfortable cart, playing the banjo, whilst pa.s.sing through Cheng to attack Ts'u. Music was used at worship as well as at court; in 527 the ruler of Lu, as a mark of respect for one of his deceased ministers, abandoned the playing of music, which otherwise would have been a const.i.tuent part of the sacrifice or worship he had in hand at the moment. Even in modern China, music is prohibited during solemn periods of mourning, and officials are often degraded for attending theatrical performances on solemn fasts. In 212 B.C., when the First August Emperor was, like Saul or Belshazzar, beginning to grow sad at the contemplation of his lonely and unloved greatness, he was suddenly startled at the fall of a meteoric stone, bearing upon it what looked like a warning inscription. He at once ordered his learned men to compose some music treating of "true men" and immortals, in order to exorcise the evil omen; it may be mentioned that this emperor's Taoist proclivities have apparently had the indirect result that the word "true man" has come century by century down to us, with the meaning of "Taoist priest," or "Taoist inspired person."

CHAPTER XLIII

WEALTH, SPORTS, ETC.

A traveller in modern China may still wonder at the utter absence of any sign of wealth or luxury except in the very largest towns.

Fine clothes, jewels, concubines, rich food, aphrodisiacs, opium, land, cattle--these represent "wealth" as conceived by the Chinese rich man's mind. In 655 Ts'in is said to have paid five ram-skins to Ts'u in order to secure the services of a coveted adviser. Not many years after that, when the future Second Protector was making his terms with the King of Ts'u, he remarked: "What can I do for you in return? You already possess all the slaves, musicians, treasures, silks, feathers, ivory, and leather you can want." In 606 a magnificent turtle was sent as a new year's dinner present from Ts'u to Cheng; in modern China this form of politeness would never do at all, as the turtle has acquired an evil reputation as a term of abuse, akin to the Spanish use or abuse of the word "garlic": however, I myself once experienced, when inland, far away from the sea, a curious compliment in the shape of a live crab two inches long (sent to me as a great honour) in a small jar. Of course chairs were unknown, and even the highest sat or squatted on mats; not necessarily on the ground, but spread on couches. Hence the word survives the object, just as with us ("covers" at dinner are "provided" but never seen; thus in China a host is "east mat" and a guest "west mat.") In 626, when the ruler of Ts'in was talking politics with the Tartar envoy just mentioned above, he allowed him, as a special favour, to sit alongside of his own mat (on the couch). These couches probably resembled the modern settee, sofa, _k'ang,_ or divan, such as all visitors to China have seen and sat on. Tea was quite unknown in those days, and is not mentioned before the seventh century A.D.; but possibly wine may have been served, as tea is now, on a low table between the two seats. "Tartar couches" (possibly Turkish divans) are frequently mentioned, even in the field of battle, and in comparatively modern times. In 300 B.C. Ts'u made a present to a distinguished renegade prince of the Ts'i house of an "elephant couch," by which is probably meant a couch inlaid with ivory, in the present well-known Annamese style.

In 589 B.C., when Tsin troops reached the Ts'i capital and the sea (as already related in Chapters VI. and x.x.xIX. under the heads of Armies and Geographical Knowledge), T'si endeavoured to purchase peace by offering to the victor the state treasure in the shape of precious utensils. In 551 a rich man of Ts'u was considered insolently showy because he possessed forty horses. In 545 the envoy from Cheng, acting under the Peace Conference agreement so often previously described and alluded to, brings presents of furs and silks to Ts'u; and in 537 Tsin speaks of such articles as often being presented to Ts'u. In 494, when the King of Yiieh received his great defeat at the hands of the King of Wu, his first desperate idea was to kill his wives and children, burn his valuables, and seek death at the head of his troops; but the inevitable wily Chinese adviser was at hand, and the King ended by taking his mentor's advice and successfully bribing the Wu general (a Ts'u renegade) with presents of women and valuables. When this shrewd Chinese adviser of the Yueh king had, by his sagacious counsels, at last secured the final defeat of Wu, he packed up his portable valuables, pearls, and jades, collected his family and clients, and went away by sea, never to come back. As a matter of fact, he settled in Ts'i, where he made an enormous fortune in the fish trade, and ultimately became the traditional Croesus of China, his name being quite as well known to modern Chinese through the Confucian historians, as the name of Croesus is to modern Europeans through Herodotus. He had, between the two defeats of Yiieh by Wu and Wu by Yiieh, served for several years as a spy in Wu, and the fact of his reaching Shan Tung by sea confirms in principle the story of the family of his contemporary, the King of Wu, having similarly escaped to j.a.pan. The place where he landed was probably the same as where the celebrated pilgrim Fah Hien landed, after his Indian pilgrimage, in 415 A.D., i.e., at the German port of Ts'ing-tao.

We do not hear much of gold in the earlier times, but in 237 B.C., when Ts'in was straining every nerve to conquer China, the (future) First August Emperor was advised that "it would not cost more than 300,000 pounds weight in gold to bribe the ministers of all the states in league against Ts'in." Yet in 643 B.C., on the death of the First Protector, the orthodox state of Cheng (lying between Ts'i and Tsin to the north and Ts'u to the south), was bribed with "metal" of some sort--probably gold or silver--to abandon Ts'i. In 538 the celebrated Cheng statesman Tsz-ch'an informs his Ts'u colleagues that the Tsin officers "think of nothing but money." What kind of money this was is doubtful, but it will be remembered that about this time the "powerful family"

of Lu had succeeded in bribing the Tsin ministers, or the "six great families" then managing Tsin, to deny justice to the fugitive Lu duke. In 513 B.C. the powerful Wu king who made (modern) Soochow his capital is said to have possessed both iron and gold mines, and it is stated that not even China proper could turn out better weapons. Large "cash" are said to have been coined by the Emperor who reigned from 540 to 520 B.C.; and in 450 B.C.

the King of Ts'u is reported to have "closed his _depot_ of the three moneys." As only copper was coined, it is not easy to say now what the other two "moneys" were. In 318 B.C. a bribe of "one hundred golds" was given by Yen to one of the well-known political diplomats or intriguers then forming leagues with or against Ts'in; it is not known for certain how much this was at that particular time and place; but a century or two later it meant, under the Ts'in dynasty, twenty-four ounces; during the Han dynasty, conquerors of the Ts'in dynasty, it was only about half that. Cooks seem to have held official positions of considerable dignity. "Meat-eaters" in Confucian times was a term for "officials" or "the rich." Thus when the haughty King of Wu was suddenly recalled home, from his high-handed durbar with Tsin, Lu, and other orthodox states, to go and deal with his formidable enemy of Yueh, he turned quite pale. By dint of bold "bluff" he managed after all to gain most of his political points, and to retire from an awkward corner with honour; but Chinese spies had their eyes on him none the less, and reported to the watchful enemy that "meat-eaters are not usually blackfaced"--meaning that the King of Wu evidently had some very recent bad news on his mind, for "the well-fed do not usually look care-worn."

Silk was universally known. When the Second Protector (to be) was dallying with his lady-love in Ts'i, the maid of his mistress happened to overhear important conversations from her post in a mulberry tree; the presumption is that she was collecting leaves for the silkworms. Again in 519, a century later, there was a dispute on the Ts'u-Wu frontier (North An Hwei province), about the possession of certain mulberry trees. Cotton (_Gossypium_) was unknown in China, and the poorer cla.s.ses wore garments of hempen materials; the cotton tree (_Bombyx_) was known in the south, but then (as now) the catkins could not be woven into cloth. It was never the custom of officers in China to wear swords, until in 409 B.C. Ts'in introduced the practice; but it probably never extended to orthodox China, so far, at least, as civilians' were concerned. The three dynasties of Hia, Shang, and Chou had all made use of jade or malachite rings, tablets, sceptres, and so on, as marks of official rank.

As to sports, hunting, and especially fowling, seem to have been the most popular pastimes. In 660 a prince of Wei (orthodox) is said to have had a pa.s.sion for egret fights. In 539 four-horsed chariots are mentioned as being used in a great Ts'u hunt south of the modern Teh-an in northern Hu Peh province, then mostly jungle: these hunts were used as a sort of training for war as well as for sport. The celebrated "stone drums" discovered in the seventh century A.D. near the old Chou capital describe the war-hunts of the active emperor mentioned in Chapter XLI. As might be expected, Yen (Peking plain) would be well off for horses-to this day brought by the Mongols in droves to Peking: in 539 it is said of Yen: "She was never a strong power, in spite of her numerous horses." In 534 a great hunt in Lu is described with much detail; here also chariots were used, and their shafts were reared in opposite rows with their tips meeting above, so as to form a "shaft gate," on which, besides, a flag was kept flying. The entrance to Chinese official _yamens_ is still called "the shaft gate";-in fact, the _ya_ was orginally a flag, and "_yamen_"

simply means "flag gate." In the Middle Ages the Turkish Khans'

encampments were always spoken of as their ya--thus: "from hence 1500 miles north-west to the Khan's _ya_." c.o.c.kfighting was a common sport in Ts'i and Lu. In 517 B.C. two prominent Lu functionaries had a quarrel because one had put metal spurs on his bird, whilst the other had scattered mustard in the feathers of his fighting c.o.c.k: owing to the ambiguity or double meaning of one of the pictographs employed, it is not quite certain that "mustard in the wings" may not mean "a metal helmet on the head." Lifting weights was (as now) a favourite exercise; in 307 a Ts'in prince died from the effects of a strain produced in trying to lift a heavy metal tripod. In Ts'i games at ball, including a kind of football, were played. As a rule, however, it is to be feared that the wealthy Chinese cla.s.ses in ancient (as in modern) times found their chief recreation in feasting, literary bouts, and female society. Curiously enough, nothing is said of gambling. Women are depicted at their looms, or engaged upon the silk industry; but it is singular how very little is said of home life, of how the houses were constructed, of how the hours of leisure were pa.s.sed. In modern China the bulk of the male rural population rises with or before the dawn, and is engaged upon field or garden work until the shades of evening fall in; there is no artificial light adequate for purposes of needlework or private study; even the consolations of tobacco and tea--not to say opium, and now newspapers--were unknown in Confucian days. It is presumed, therefore, that life was even more humdrum than it is now, except that women at least had feet to walk upon. We gain some glimpses of excessive taxation and popular misery, forced labour and the press-gang; of callous luxury on the part of the rich, from the pages of Lao-tsz and Mencius; the Book of Odes also tells us much about the pathetic sadness of the people under their taskmasters' hands. In all countries popular habits change slowly; in none more so than in China. We are driven, therefore, by comparison with the life of to-day to conclude that life in those times was sufficiently wretched, and it is therefore not to be wondered at that the miserable people readily sold their services to the first ambitious adventurer who could protect them, and feed them from day to day.

CHAPTER XLIV

CONFUCIUS

Confucius has. .h.i.therto appeared to many of us Westerners as a stiff, incomprehensible individual, resting his claim to immortality upon sententious nothingnesses directed to no obvious practical purpose; but, from the slight sketches of the manners of the times in which he lived given above, it will be apparent that he was a practical man with a definite object in view, and that both his barebones history and his jerky moral teachings were the best he could do with sorry material, and in the face of inveterate corruption and tyranny. It has been explained how the Warrior King who conquered China for the Chou family in 1122, about a dozen years later enfeoffed the elder brother of the last Shang dynasty emperor in the country of Sung, where he ruled the greater part of what was left of the late dynasty's immediate _entourage_, and kept up the sacrifices. This is what Confucius meant when he said: "There remain not in K'i sufficient indications of what the inst.i.tutions of the Hia dynasty were; but I have studied in Sung what survives of the Shang dynasty inst.i.tutions. In practice I follow the Chou dynasty inst.i.tutions, as I have studied them at home in Lu." K'i was a very petty state of marquess rank situated near Lu, to which, indeed, it was subordinate; but just as Sung had, as representatives of the Shang dynasty, the privilege of carrying out certain imperial sacrifices, so had K'i, as representatives of the Hia dynasty (enfeoffed by Chou in 1122), an equal right to distinction.

Confucius' ancestors were natives of Sung and scions of the ducal family reigning there; in fact, in 893 his ancestor ought to have succeeded to the Sung throne: in 710 B.C. the last of these ancestors to hold high official rank in Sung was killed, together with his princely master; and several generations after that the great-grandfather of Confucius, in order to avoid the secular spite of the powerful family who had so killed his ancestor, decided to migrate to Lu. In other words, he just crossed the modern Grand Ca.n.a.l (then the river Sz, which rose in Lu), and moved a few days' journey north-east to the nearest civilized state of any standing. Confucius' father is no mythical personage, but a stout, common soldier, whose doughty deeds under three successive dukes are mentioned in the Lu history quite in a casual and regular way. When still quite a child, Confucius disclosed a curious fancy for playing with sacrificial objects and practising ceremonies, just as English children in the nursery sometimes play at "being parson and s.e.xton," and at "having feasts." When he grew up to manhood, a high officer of Lu foretold his future greatness, not only on account of his precociously grave demeanour, but also because he was in direct descent from the Shang dynasty, and because the intrigues that had taken place in Sung had deprived him of his succession rights there also. This high officer's two sons, both frequently mentioned by various contemporary authors, and one of whom subsequently went with Confucius to visit Lao-tsz at the imperial court, thereupon studied the rites under the man of whom their father had spoken so well. The only official appointment in Lu that Confucius was able to obtain at this period was that of steward to one of the "powerful families" then engaged in the task, so congenial in those times all over China, of undermining the ducal authority; this appointment was a kind of stewardship, in which his duties consisted in tallying the measures of grain and checking the heads of cattle. One of the two sons of the above-mentioned statesman who had foreseen Confucius'

distinction, some time after this submitted a request to the ruler of Lu that he might proceed in company with Confucius to visit the imperial capital; and it is supposed by Sz-ma Ts'ien, the historian of 100 B.C., that this was the occasion on which took place the philosopher's famous interview with Lao-tsz. In this connection there are two or three remarks to make. In the first place, it is recorded of nearly all the va.s.sal states that they either did pay visits to, or wished to visit, the metropolis; and that royal dukes and royal historians, either at va.s.sal request or under imperial instruction, took part in advising va.s.sal states.

In the second place, as Confucius then held no high office, his visit, being a private affair, would not be considered worth mentioning in the Lu annals, and it would therefore almost follow as a matter of course that the young man who accompanied him, being of official status by birth, would count as the chief personage. In the third place, there is no instance in the Confucian histories of a mere archive-keeper or a mere philosopher being mentioned on account of his importance in that capacity.

Such men as Tsz-ch'an, Shuh Hiang, Ki-chah, and the other distinguished "ritualists" of the time, are not mentioned so much on account of their abstract teachings as they are on account of their being able statesmen, competent to stave off the rising tide of revolutionary opinions. Even Confucius himself only appears in contemporary annals as an able administrator and diplomat; there is no particular mention of his "school," and, _a fortiori,_ he himself does not mention Lao-tsz's "school," even if Lao-tsz had one; for he disapproved of Lao-tsz's republican and democratic way of construing the ancient _tao._ Finally, neither Confucius nor Lao-tsz, however great their local reputations, were yet universally "great"; they were consequently as little the objects of hero-worship as was Shakespeare when he was at the height of his activity; and of the living Shakespeare we know next to nothing. At this time Lu was in a quandary, surrounded by the rival great powers of Tsin, Ts'i, and Ts'u, all three of which absolutely ignored the Emperor, except so far as they might succeed in using him and his ritualistic prestige as a cat's-paw in their own selfish interests. When Confucius was thirty years of age (522 B.C.) the ruler of Ts'i, accompanied by his minister the philosopher Yen-tsz, paid a visit to Lu, and had a discussion with Confucius upon the question: "How did Ts'in, from beginnings so small and obscure, reach her present commanding position?" Besides this, the Ts'i ruler and his henchman Yen-tsz both took the opportunity to study the rites at Lu. This fact seems to support the (later) statement that Confucius had himself been to study the rites at the metropolis, and also to explain Confucius' own confession that he did not understand much about the Hia dynasty inst.i.tutions that used to exist in K'i,--a state lying eastward of Ts'i. In 520 the last envoy ever sent from Lu to the Chou metropolis reported on his return that the imperial family was in a state of feud and anarchy: if, as it is stated, this was really the last envoy from Lu, then Confucius and his friend must have visited Lao-tsz before the former reached the age of thirty. Tsin and Lu were both now in a revolutionary condition, and a struggle with the "powerful families" was going on in each case; it was also beginning in Ts'i, and in principle seems to have been exactly akin to our English struggle between King John and his barons (as champions of popular rights) against the greed of the tax-collector. To avoid home troubles, Confucius at the age of thirty-five went to Ts'i, in order, if possible, to serve his friend the Marquess, who had a few years before consulted him about the rise of Ts'in. There perhaps it was that he found an opportunity to study the music of the Hia dynasty at the petty state of K'i, only one day's journey east of the Ts'i capital, on the north-east frontier of Lu; and then it must have been that he formed his opinion about the surviving Hia rites. His advice to the reigning prince of Ts'i was so highly appreciated that it was proposed to confer an estate upon him. It is interesting to note that the jealous Yen-tsz (who was much admired as a companionable man by Confucius) protested against this grant, on the ground that "men of his views are sophistical rhetoricians, intoxicated with the exuberance of their own verbosity; incompetent to administer the people; wasting time and money upon expensive funerals. Life is too short to waste in trying to get to the bottom of these inane studies." From this it will be seen that Lao-tsz was by no means alone in despising Confucius' conservative and ritualistic views, though it is quite possible that Yen-tsz may still have respected him as a man and a politician. Finally, Confucius, finding that the Ts'i ministers were all arrayed against him, and that the Marquess fain confessed himself too old to fight his battles for him, quitted the country and returned home. His own duke died in exile in 510 B.C., power remaining in the intriguing hands of an influential private family; and for at least ten years Confucius held no office in his native land, but spent his time in editing the Odes, the Book, the Chou Rites, and the Music; by some it is even thought that he not only edited but composed the Book (of History), or put together afresh such parts of the old Book as suited his didactic purposes. Meanwhile the private family intrigues went on more actively than ever; until at last, in 501, when Confucius was fifty years of age, the most formidable agitator of them all, finding his position untenable, escaped to Ts'i; it even seems that Confucius placed, or thought of placing, his services at the disposal of one of these rebel subjects.

Possibly it was in view of such contingencies that the reigning duke at last gave Confucius a post as governor of a town, where his administration was so admirable that he soon pa.s.sed through higher posts to that of Chief Justice, or Minister of Justice.

Confucius' views on law are well known. He totally disapproved of Tsz-ch'an's publication of the law in the orthodox state of Cheng, as explained in Chapter XX., holding that the judge should always "declare" the law, and make the punishment fit the crime, instead of giving the people opportunities to test how far they could strain the literal terms of the law. He also said: "I am like others in administering the law; I apply it to each case; it is necessary to slay one in order not to have to slay more. The ancients understood prevention better than we do now; at present all we can hope to do is to avoid punishing unjustly. The ancients strove to save a prisoner's life; now we can only do our best to prove his guilt. However, better let a guilty man go free than slay an innocent one."

Confucius' old friend the ruler of Ts'i was still alive (he reigned fifty-eight years, one of the longest reigns on record in Chinese history), and he had just suffered serious humiliation at the hands of the barbarous King of Wu, to whose heir-apparent he had been obliged to send one of his daughters in marriage. The Protectorate of China was going a-begging for want of a worthy sovereign, and it looked at one time as though Confucius' stern and efficient administration would secure the coveted prize for Lu. The Marquess of Ts'i therefore formed a treacherous plot to a.s.sa.s.sinate both master and man, and with this end in view sent an envoy to propose a friendly conference. It was on this occasion that Confucius uttered his famous saying (quoted, however, from what "he had heard") that "they who discuss by diplomacy should always have the support of a military backing." A couple of generals accordingly accompanied the party to the trysting-place; and it is presumed that the generals had a force of soldiers with them, even though the indispensable common people be not worth mention in Chinese history. In conformity with practice, an altar or dai's was constructed; wine was offered, and the usual rites were being fulfilled to the utmost, when suddenly a Ts'i officer advanced rapidly and said: "I now propose to introduce some foreign musicians," a band of whom at once entered the arena, with brandished weapons, waving feathers, and noisy yells. Confucius saw through this sinister manoeuvre at once, and, hastily mounting the dais (except, out of respect, the last step), expostulated in the plainest terms. The ruler of Ts'i was so ashamed of his position that he at once sent the dancers away. But a second group of mountebanks were promptly introduced in spite of this check.

Confucius was so angry, that he demanded their instant execution under the law (presumably a general imperial law) "providing the punishment of death for those who should excite animosity between princes." Heads and legs soon covered the ground; and Confucius played his other cards so well that he secured, in the sequel, a formal treaty, actually surrendering to Lu certain territories that had unlawfully been held for some years by Ts'i. On the other hand, Lu had to promise to aid Ts'i with 22,500 men in case Ts'i should engage in any "foreign" war--probably alluding to Wu. Two or three years after that stirring event there was civil war in Lu, owing to Confucius having insisted on the "barons" dismantling their private fortresses.

At the age of fifty-six Confucius left his post as Minister of Justice to take up that of First Counsellor: his first act was to put to death a grandee who was sowing disorder in the state. It was during these years of supreme administration that complete order was restored throughout the country; thieves disappeared; "sucking-pigs and lambs were sold for honest prices"; and there was general content and rejoicing throughout the land. All this made the neighbouring people of Ts'i more and more uneasy, even to the point of fearing annexation by Lu. The wily old Marquess therefore, again at the instigation of the man who had planned the attempted a.s.sa.s.sination of 500 B.C., made a selection of eighty of the most beautiful women Ts'i could produce, besides thirty four- horsed chariots of the most magnificent description. The reigning Marquess of Lu, as well as his "powerful family" friend against whom Confucius had once thought of taking arms (who, indeed, acted as intermediary) both fell into the trap: public duty and sacrifices were neglected; and the result was that Confucius at once threw up his offices and left the country in disgust. His first visit was to Wei (imperial clan), the capital city of which state then stood on the Yellow River, in the extreme north-east part of modern Ho Nan province; and through this capital the river then ran: the metropolis of one of the very ancient emperors previous to the Hia dynasty had nearly 2000 years before been in the immediate neighbourhood, as also had been the last capital of the Shang dynasty, of which, as we have seen, Confucius was a distant scion. After a few months' stay there, he was suspected and calumniated; so he decided to move on, although the ruler of Wei had generously appropriated to him a salary (in grain) suitable to his high rank. He accordingly proceeded eastwards to a town belonging to Sung (in the extreme south of modern Chih Li province): here he had the misfortune to be mistaken for the dangerous individual who had fled from Lu to Ts'i in 501, in consequence of which he returned to stay in Wei with his friend K'u-peh-yuh, who, as mentioned in Chapter XXVIII., had been visited by Ki-chah of Wu in 544 B.C. Here, as a distinguished traveller, he was asked (practically commanded) by one of the ruler's wives to pay her a visit; and, though the reluctant visit was paid with all propriety and reserve, the fact that this woman was at the time suspected of having committed incest with her own brother is considered by uncompromising native critics to leave a slight stain on Confucius' character. Worse still, the reigning prince took his wife out for a drive with a eunuch sitting in the same carriage, ordering the sage to follow the party in an inferior carriage. This was too much for Confucius, who then resumed his original journey through Sung, from which he had turned back, and proceeded to the small state of Ts'ao (imperial clan; still called Ts'ao-thou, extreme south-west of modern Shan Tung province). To-day he would have had to cross the Yellow River, but of course none is here mentioned, as Confucius had already left it behind at the Wei capital: in fact, he had been on the right bank ever since he left his own country. This was 495 B.C. After a short stay in Ts'ao, the philosopher proceeded south towards the capital of Sung (modern Kwei-teh Fu in the extreme east of Ho Nan). For some reason the Minister of War there wished to a.s.sa.s.sinate him--probably because the arch-intriguer whom Confucius had driven out of Lu in 501, and who had taken refuge first in Ts'i and then in Sung, had calumniated him there.

Confucius thereupon made his way westwards, over the various headwaters of the River Hwai, to Cheng (imperial clan), the state which had been for a generation so admirably administered by Tsz- ch'an: in fact, a man outside the city gate observed "how like Tsz-ch'an" the stranger looked. Some accounts make out that Tsz- ch'an was then only just dead, but the better opinion is that he had already then been dead for twenty-seven years: in any case it is curious that Confucius, who was a very tall man, should twice be mistaken for other persons. Thence Confucius turned back south- east to the orthodox state of Ch'en (modern Ch'en-chou Fu in Eastern Ho Nan). This was one of the very oldest princ.i.p.alities in China, dating from even before the Hia dynasty (2205 B.C.); and the Warrior King of Chou, after conquering the empire in 1122 B.C., had industriously sought out the most suitable lineal descendant to take over the ancient fee of his remote ancestor, and continue the sacrifices.

Confucius remained in Ch'en over three years, and during that time the barbarian King of Wu annexed several neighbouring towns, whilst Tsin and Ts'u ravaged the surrounding country in turn, in their rival efforts to secure a predominant influence there. Here it was, too, that a bird of prey, pierced with a strange arrow, fell near the prince's palace: from the wood used in making the arrow and the peculiar stone barb employed to tip it, Confucius was able to explain that the bird must have flown from (modern) Manchuria. (This annual flight of bustards and geese, to and from the Steppes, may be observed any winter to-day.) He next turned north, and arrived once more at the spot in Sung he had visited in 496: here he was arrested, but set free on his solemn promise that he would not go to Wei, which state at the moment was considering the advisability of attacking that very Sung town. Confucius deliberately broke his plighted word, on the ground that "promises extorted by violence are void, and are not recognized by the G.o.ds." (These words, which, after all, are good English law, were quoted by the irate Chang Chf-tung when Russia "extorted" the Livadia Treaty from Ch'unghou.) On his arrival in Wei, he advised his old friend, the Wei duke, to attack the Sung town he had just left. But the duke thought it best to have the Yellow River between himself and the rival states of Ts'u and Tsin (this specific mention of the Yellow River as being west of a city in long. 114 30' E. is interesting). The latter state, Tsin, then held most of the left bank. Confucius even thought of accepting the invitation of a Tsin rebel to go and a.s.sist him: this was just at the moment when the "six families" were gradually breaking up the once powerful northern orthodox state. He also hesitated whether he would not do better, as the prince of Wei would not employ him, to proceed west to Tsin in order there to serve one of the contending six families: in fact he actually got as far as the Yellow River (another proof that it must then have run on the west side of Wei-hwei Fu in Ho Nan); but turned back to Wei on hearing unfavourable news from the Tsin capital (in south Shan Si). As the Wei prince treated him somewhat cavalierly during an interview, he decided to go back once more due south to the ancient state of Ch'en. Here (492) he heard news of the destruction by fire of some of the Lu ancestral temples, and of the death of the "powerful family" minister whose disgraceful conduct with the singing girls had led to his departure from Lu in disgust. This minister was a sort of hereditary _maire du palais_, an arrangement which seems to have been customary in many states, and his last words to his son were: "When you succeed me, send for Confucius: my administration has failed: I did wrong in dismissing him." The son had not the courage to ask Confucius himself, but he sent instead for one of the philosopher's disciples, and it was arranged with Confucius' friends that this disciple on taking office should send for Confucius himself, who really wished to be employed in Lu again. Meanwhile Confucius decided to visit the orthodox state of Ts'ai (imperial clan), lying to the south of Che'n: the capital of this state had been originally a town on the upper waters of the Hwai River, right in the heart of modern Ho Nan province; but, under stress of the Tsin and T'su wars, it had twice moved its chief city eastwards, and owing to a Ts'u invasion, it was now (491) on the main Hwai River in modern An Hwei province, and was at the moment under the political influence of Wu; it is not clear, however, whether Confucius visited the old or the new capital. After a year's stay here, Confucius went further westwards to a certain Ts'u town (near Nan-yang Fu in Ho Nan), pa.s.sing, on his way, near the place in which Lao-tsz was born. He soon returned to Ts'ai, where he stayed three years. It will be observed that ever since 700 B.C. it had been the deliberate policy of Ts'u to annex or overshadow as many of the orthodox states as possible, so that Ts'u's undoubtedly high literary output, in later years, is easily accounted for: in other words, Ts'u's northern population was now already orthodox Chinese.

Moreover, it must not be forgotten that, even before the Chou conquest, one of the early Ts'u rulers was an author himself, and had been tutor to the father of the Chou founder: that means to say Ts'u was possibly always as literary as China.

Meanwhile Ts'u and semi-barbarian Wu were contesting possession of Ch'en, and the King of Ts'u tried to secure by presents the services of Confucius, who had prudently transferred himself to a safe place in the open country lying between Ch'en and Ts'ai The ministers of these two orthodox states, fearing the results to their own people should Confucius (as he seems in fact to have contemplated) decide to accept the Ts'u offer, with a police force surrounded the Confucian party; they were only able to escape from starvation by sending word to the King, who at once sent a detachment to free the sage. He would have conferred a fief upon Confucius, but his ministers advised him of the danger of such a proceeding, seeing that the Chou dynasty conquered the empire after beginning with a petty fief, and that the great kingdom of Ts'u itself had arrived at its present greatness after beginning with a still smaller fief. Accordingly the sage decided to return to Wei (489), where several of his disciples received official posts, and where Confucius himself seems to have acted as unofficial adviser, especially in the matter of a contested succession. All this compet.i.tion for, or at least jealousy of, Confucius' services proves that his repute as an administrator (not necessarily as a philosopher) was already widely spread. The following year the King of Wu appeared before the Lu capital, and one of Confucius' former disciples holding office there (the one who went in advance in 492) just succeeded in moderating the barbarians' demands, which, however, only took the comparatively harmless "spiritual" form of orthodox sacrificial victims.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Map

1. The dotted line shows the present Grand Ca.n.a.l; the part between the Yang-tsz and Hwai Rivers was made by the King of Wu. The part north of the Hwai is chiefly the channel of the River Sz, flowing from the Lu capital into the Hwai.

2. The old Hwai embouchure, running from the Lake Hung-tseh to the sea, no longer exists; it dissipates itself in ca.n.a.ls and salt flats.

3. From 1852 the Yellow River has flowed north as depicted in the other maps. For several centuries previous to 1851 it flowed as shown by the long-link-and-dot line, and took possession of the now extinct Hwai embouchure.

4. The crosses mark capitals. Ts'ai (two marked) and Hii (one marked) frequently shifted capitals.]

In 484 Confucius was still in Wei, for in that year he is stated to have declined to discuss there a question connected with making war. In the year 484 or 483 the disciple sent by Confucius to Lu, as stated, in 492 conducted an expedition against Ts'i: this was the shameful period when orthodox Lu, in compulsory league with barbarous Wu, was playing a double and treacherous game under stress, and the question of recalling Confucius to save his native country was on the _tapis_. Hearing of this, and despite the heavy bribes offered him to stay by the ruler of Wei, Confucius started with alacrity for Lu, where he arrived safely after fourteen years of wandering. He is often stated to have visited over forty states in all; but it must be remembered that each of the important countries he visited had in turn a number of satellites of its own; as, for instance, the extremely ancient "marquess state" of Ki, or K'i, subordinate to Lu, which, though possessing great spiritual authority, had no weight in lay policy.

An interesting point to notice is that Confucius' travels almost exactly coincide with those of the Second Protector 150 years earlier (see Chapter x.x.xIX); both of them ignored the Emperor, and both of them visited Ts'i, Ts'ao, Sung, and Cheng on their way to the Ts'u frontiers; but Confucius was not able to get much farther west so as to reach the Ts'u capital; nor was he able to get to Tsin; not to say the still more distant Ts'in. In other words, the limited centre of orthodox China remained for many centuries the same, and the vast regions surrounding it were still semi- barbarian in the fifth century B.C. Now it was that Confucius, seeing that the imperial power had diminished almost to nothing; that the Odes and Book, the Rites, and the Music no longer possessed their former influence; employed himself in making systematic search for doc.u.ments, in re-editing the Book (of History), and in endeavouring to ascertain the exact ritual or administration of the preceding dynasties. "Henceforth the Rites could be understood and transmitted,"--from which we may a.s.sume that, up to this time, they had been practically a monopoly of the princely caste. He did not go further back into the mythical period than the two emperors who preceded the Hia dynasty, nor did he bring the Book farther down than to the time of Duke Muh of Ts'in, which practically means the time of the first Protectors.

He really did for rites and history what he had blamed Tsz-ch'an for doing with the law: he popularized it. He also attempted with persistent study to master the Changes, to which incomprehensible work he added features of his own--very little more understandable than the original texts. As to the Odes, 3000 in number, he used the pruning knife much more vigorously, and nine-tenths of them were rejected as unsuitable for the purposes of good didactic lessons or conservative precedents. If we subst.i.tute, as we are ent.i.tled to do, the vague word "religion" for the equally vague word "rites" (which in fact were the only ancient Chinese religion); if we subst.i.tute the empty Christian churches of to- day, and the too little scrupulous ambitions of rival European Powers, for the neglected _tao_ of the Chou ideal, and for the savage rivalry of the great Chinese va.s.sals; we obtain an almost precisely similar situation in modern Europe. If we can imagine a great Pope, or a great philosopher, taking advantage of a turn in the European conscience to bring back the simple ideals of Christianity, we can easily imagine this European Confucius being universally hailed in future times as the saviour of a parlous situation; which, in Europe now, as 2000 years ago in China, entails on the people so much misery and suffering.

Confucius was, in short, in a way, a Chinese Pius X. declaiming against Modernism.

Confucius' only certain original work was the "Springs and Autumns," which is practically a continuation (with the necessary introductory years) of the ancient Book edited or, as some think, composed by him. He brought the former, this history of his, down from 722 to 481 B.C. and died in 479. His pupil Tso K'iu-ming, who was official historian to the Lu court, annotated and expounded Confucius' bald annals, bringing the narrative down from 481 to 468; and Tso's delightful work forms the chief, but by no means the sole, basis for what we have to say in the present book of sketches.

CHAPTER XLV

CONFUCIUS AND LAO-TSZ

Apart from the fact that reverence for rulers was the pivot of the Chou religious system, or, what was then the same thing, administrative system; official historiographers, who were mere servants of the executive, had to be careful how they offended the executive power in those capricious days; all the more had a private author and a retired official like Confucius carefully to mind the conventions. For instance, two historians had been put to death by a king-maker in Ts'i for recording the murder by him of a Ts'i reigning prince; and Ts'i was but next door to Lu. Hence we find the leading feature of his work is that he hints rather than criticizes, suggests rather than condemns, conceals rather than exposes, when it is a question of cla.s.s honour or divine right; just as, with us, the Church prefers to hush up rather than to publish any unfortunate internal episode that would redound to its discredit. So shocked was he at the a.s.sa.s.sination of the ruler of Ts'i by an usurping family in 481, that, even at his venerable age, he unsuccessfully counselled instant war against Ts'i. His motive was perhaps doubtful, for the next year we find a pupil of his, then in office, going as a member of the mission to the same usurper in order to try and obtain a cession of territory improperly held. This pupil was one of the friends who a.s.sisted at the arrangement made in Wei in 492. Confucius' failings--for after all he was only a man, and never pretended to be a genius--in no way affect the truth of his writings, for they were detected almost from the very beginning, and have never been in the least concealed. Notable instances are the mission from Lu to Ts'u in 634; Confucius conceals the fact that, not courtesy to barbarian Ts'u, but a desire to obtain vengeance against orthodox Ts'i was the true motive. Again, in 632, when the _faineant_ Emperor was "sent for" by the Second Protector to preside at a durbar; Confucius prefers to say: "His Majesty went to inspect his fiefs north of the river," thus even avoiding so much as to name the exact place, not to say describe the circ.u.mstances. He punishes the Emperor for an act of impropriety in 693 by recording him as "the King," instead of "the Heavenly King." On the other hand, in 598, even the barbarian King of Ts'u was "a sage," because, having conquered the orthodox state of Ch'en, he magnanimously renounced his conquest. In 529 the infamous ruler of the orthodox state of Ts'ai is recorded as being "solemnly buried"; but the rule was that no "solemn funeral" should be accorded to (1) barbarians, (2) rulers who lose their crown, (3) murderers. Now, this ruler was a murderer; but it was a barbarian state (Ts'u) that killed him, which insult to civilization must be punished by making two blacks one white, _i.e._ by giving the murdered murderer an orthodox funeral. Again, in 522, a high officer was "killed by robbers"; it is explained that there were no robbers at all, in fact, but that the mere killing of an officer by a common person needs the a.s.sumption of robbery. It is like the legal fiction of lunacy in modern Chinese law to account for the heinous crime of parricide, and thus save the city from being razed to the ground. Once more, at the Peace Conference of 546, Ts'u undoubtedly "bluffed" Tsin out of her rightful precedence; but, Tsin being an orthodox state, Confucius makes Tsin the diplomatic victor. We have already seen that he once deliberately broke his plighted word, meanly attacked the men who spared him; and, out of servility, visited a woman of n.o.ble rank who was "no better than she ought to have been." There is another little female indiscretion recorded against him. When, in 482, the Lu ruler's concubine, a Wu princess (imperial clan name), died, Confucius obsequiously went into mourning for an "incestuous" woman; but, seeing immediately afterwards that the powerful family then at the helm did not condescend to do so, he somewhat ignominiously took off his mourning in a hurry. All these, and numerous similar petty instances of timorousness, may appear to us at a remote distance trifling and pusillanimous, as do also many of the model personal characteristics and goody-goody private actions of the sage; but if we make due allowance for the difficulty of translating strange notions into a strange tongue, and for the natural absence of sympathy in trying to enter into foreign feelings, we may concede that these petty details, quite incidentally related, need in no way destroy the main features of a great picture. Few heroes look the character except in their native clothes and surroundings; and, as Carlyle said, a naked House of Lords would look much less dignified than a naked negro conference.

As a philosopher, Confucius in his own time had scarcely the reputation of Tsz-ch'an of Cheng, who in many respects seems to have been his model and guide. Much more is said of Tsz-ch'an's philosophy, of his careful definition of the ritual system, of his legal ac.u.men, of his paternal care for the people's welfare; but, like his contemporaries and friends of Ts'i, Tsin, Cheng, Sung, Wei; and even of Wu and Yueh; he was working for the immediate good of his own state in times of dire peril; whereas Confucius from first to last was aiming at the restoration of religion (i.e., of the imperial, ritualistic, feudal system); and for this reason it was that, after the violent unification of the empire by the First August Emperor in 221 B.C., followed by his fall and the rise of the Han dynasty in 202 B.C., this latter house finally decided to venerate, and all subsequent houses have continued to venerate, Confucius' memory; because his system was, after Lao- tsz's system had been given a fair trial, at last found the best suited for peace and permanency.

Not only is Lao-tsz not mentioned in the "Springs and Autumns" of Confucius, as extended by his contemporary and latter commentators, but none other of the great writers and philosophers anterior to and contemporary with Confucius are spoken of except strictly in their capacity of administrators. Thus the Ts'i philosopher Kwan-tsz of the First Protector's time, 650 B.C.; the Ts'i philosopher Yen-tsz of Confucius' time; and the others mentioned in preceding chapters, notably in Chapter XV. (of whom each orthodox state of political importance can boast at least one); based their reputation on what they had achieved for the state rather than what they had taught in the abstract; and their economical and historical books, which have all come down to us in a more or less complete and authentic state, are valued for the expression they give to the definite theories by which they arrived at practical results, rather than for the preaching of the counsels of perfection, We have seen that Yen-tsz expressed rather a contempt for the (to him) out-of-date formalistic ideals of Confucius, though Confucius himself had a high opinion of Yen-tsz.

Lao-tsz is first mentioned by the writers of the various "schools"

brought into existence by the collapse of Tsin in 452 B.C., and its subdivision into three separate kingdoms, recognized as such by the puppet Emperor in 403 B.C. The diplomatic activity was soon after that quite extraordinary, and each of the seven royal courts became a centre of revolutionary thought; that is, every literary adventurer had his own views of what interpretation of ancient literature was best suited to the times: it was Modernism with a vengeance. There is ample evidence of Lao-tsz's influence upon the age, though Lao-tsz himself had been dead for a century or more in the year 403. Lao-tsz is spoken of and written about in the fourth century B.C. as though it were perfectly well known who he was, and what his sentiments were; but as, up to Confucius' time, state intercourse had been confined to traders, warriors, and officials of the princely castes; and as books had been unwieldy objects stored only in capitals and great centres; there is good reason to a.s.sume that philosophy had been taught almost entirely by word of mouth, and that something must have occurred shortly after his death to cheapen and facilitate the dissemination of literature.

Probably this something was the gradual introduction of the practice of writing on silk rolls and on silk "paper," which practice is known to have been in vogue long before the discovery of rubbish paper A.D. 100. Confucius himself evidently made use of the old-fashioned bamboo slips, strung together by cords like a bundle of tickets; for we are told that he worked so hard in endeavouring to understand the "Changes," that he "wore out three sets of leather bands"; and it will be remembered from Chapter x.x.xV. how the Bamboo Books buried in 299 B.C., to be discovered nearly 600 years later, consisted of slips strung together in this way.

Confucius' movements during the fourteen years of his exile are very clearly marked out, and there seems to be no doubt that his visit to the Emperor's court took place when he was a young man; firstly, because Lao-tsz ironically calls him a young man, and secondly because he went to visit Lao-tsz with the son of the statesman who on his death-bed foretold Confucius' future distinction; and there was no Lu mission to the imperial court after 520. In the second century B.C., not only are there a dozen statesmen specifically stated to have studied the works of Lao- tsz, but the Empress herself is said to have possessed his book; and a copy of it, distinctly said to be in ancient character, was then stored amongst other copies of the same book in the imperial library. The two questions which the Chinese historians and literary men of the fifth, fourth, third, and second centuries B.C. do not attempt to decide are: Why is the life of Lao-tsz not given to us earlier than 100 B.C.? Why is that life so scant, and why does the writer of it allude to "other stories" current about him? Why is it that the book which Lao-tsz wrote at the request of a friend is not alluded to by any writer previous to 100 B.C.?

As not one single one of these numerous Taoists or students of Lao-tsz expresses the faintest doubt about Lao-tsz's existence, or about the genuineness of his traditional teachings, it is evident that the meagreness of Lao-tsz's life, as told by the historian, is rather a guarantee of the truth of what he says than the reverse, so far as he knows the truth; otherwise he would have certainly embellished. The essence of Lao-tsz's doctrine is its democracy, its defence of popular rights, its allusion to kings and governments as necessary evils, its disapproval of luxury and h.o.a.rding wealth; its enthusiasm for the simple life, for absence of caste, for equality of opportunity, for socialism and informality; all of which was, though extracted from the same Odes, Book, Changes, and Rites, quite contrary in principle to the "back to the rites" doctrine of Confucius. Therefore, there could be no possible inducement for Confucius, the pruning editor of the Odes, Book, etc., or for his admirers, to mention Lao-tsz in either his original work, the "Springs and Autumns," or in the other works (composed by his disciples) giving the original words and sentiments of Confucius. Besides, during the whole of Lao- tsz's life, the imperial court (where he served as a clerk) was totally ignored by all the "powers" as a political force; the only persons mentioned in what survives of Chou history are the historiographers, the wizards, the ritual _clerks,_ the ducal envoys, now sent by the Emperor to the va.s.sals, now consulted by the va.s.sals upon matters of etiquette. Lao-tsz, being an obscure clerk in an obscure appanage, and holding no political office, had no more t.i.tle to be mentioned in history than any other servant or "harmless drudge." That his doctrines were well known is not wonderful, for Tsz-ch'an, his contemporary, and this great man's colleagues of the other states, also had doctrines of their own which were widely discussed and, as we have seen, even Tsz-ch'an was severely blamed for the unheard-of novelty of committing the laws to writing, both by Confucius of Lu and by Shuh Hiang of Tsin (imperial clan states). It is reasonable to suppose, therefore, that the traditional story is true; namely, that Lao-tsz's doctrines were never taught in a school at all, and that he had no followers or admirers except the va.s.sal envoys who used to come on spiritual business to the metropolis. We have seen how these men used to entertain each other over their wine by quoting the Odes and other ancient saws; when consulting the imperial library to rectify their own dates, they would naturally meet the old recluse Lao-tsz, and hear from his own mouth what he thought of the coming collapse antic.i.p.ated by all. He is said to have left orthodox China in disgust, and gone West--well, he must have pa.s.sed through Ts'in if he went to the west. At the frontier pa.s.s (it is not known precisely whether on the imperial frontier or on the Ts'in frontier) an acquaintance or correspondent on duty there invited him to put his thoughts into writing, which he did. Books being extremely rare, copies would be slowly transmitted. This was about 500 B.C., between which time and 200 B.C., when a copy of his book is first reported to be actually held in the hand by a definite person, the great protecting powers, and later the seven kings, were all engaged in a bloodthirsty warfare, which ended in the almost total destruction throughout the empire of the Odes, Rites, and the Book in 213 B.C. Remember, however, that the literary empire practically meant parts of the modern provinces of Ho Nan and Shan Tung. The "Changes" were not destroyed; and as the First August Emperor himself, his illegitimate father, several of his statesmen, and his visitors the travelling diplomats, were all either Taoists or imbued with Taoist doctrines (their sole policy being to destroy the old ritual and feudal thrones), there is ground to conjecture that Lao-tsz's book escaped too, and was deliberately suffered to escape. We know absolutely nothing of that; a.s.suming the truth of the tradition that there was a book, we do not know what became of the first copy, nor how many copies were made of it during the succeeding 300 years. No attempt whatever has ever been made by the serious Chinese historians themselves to manufacture a story. It is, of course, unsatisfactory not to know all the exact truth; but, for the matter of that, the existence, ident.i.ty, and authorship of Confucius' pupil and commentator Tso K'iu-ming, the official historian of Lu, is equally obscure; not to mention the history of the earliest Taoist critics who actually mention Lao-tsz, and quote the words of (if they do not mention) his book.

When we read Renan's masterly examination into the origins of our own Gospels, and when we reflect that even the origin of Shakespeare's plays, and the individuality of Shakespeare's person, are open to everlasting discussion, we may not unreasonably leave Chinese critics and Chinese historians to judge of the value of their own national evidence, and accept in general terms what they tell us of fact, however imperfect it may be in detail, without adding hypothetical facts or raising new critical difficulties of our own.

No such foreign criticisms are or can be worth much unless the original Chinese histories and the original Chinese philosophers have been carefully examined by the foreign critic in the original Chinese text.