Chapter XI: Classical Literature of the Chinese (1)

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The literature contained in the language now briefly described is very ample and discursive, but wanting in accuracy and unenlivened by much variety or humor. The books of the Chinese have formed and confirmed their national taste, which consequently exhibits a tedious uniformity. The unbounded admiration felt for the classics and their immaculate authors, fostered by the examinations, has further tended to this result, and caused these writings to become still more famous from the unequalled influence they have exerted. It may be very readily seen, then, with what especial interest the student of Chinese sociology turns to an investigation of their letters, the immense accumulation of forty centuries. Were its amount and prominence the only features of their literature, these would suffice to make necessary some study thereof; but in addition, continued research may reveal some further qualities of “eloquence and poetry, enriched by the beauty of a picturesque language, preserving to imagination all its colors,” which will substantiate the hearty expressions used by Rémusat when first he entered upon a critical examination of its treasures.

In taking a survey of this literature, the _Sz’ Ku Tsiuen Shu Tsung-muh_, or ‘Catalogue of all Books in the Four Libraries,’ will be the best guide, since it embraces the whole range of letters, and affords a complete and succinct synopsis of the contents of the best books in the language. It is comprised in one hundred and twelve octavo volumes, and is of itself a valuable work, especially to the foreigner. The books are arranged into four divisions, viz., Classical, Historical, and Professional writings, and Belles-lettres. This Catalogue contains about 3,440 separate titles, comprising upward of 78,000 books; besides these, 6,764 other works, numbering 93,242 books, have been described in other catalogues of the imperial collections. These lists comprise the bulk of Chinese literature, except novels, Buddhist translations, and recent publications.

The works in the first division are ranged under nine sections; one is devoted to each of the five Classics (with a subsidiary section upon these as a whole), one to the memoir on Filial Duty, one to the Four Books, one to musical works, and the ninth to treatises on education, dictionaries, etc.

~THE YIH KING, OR BOOK OF CHANGES.~

At the head of the ‘Five Classics’ (_Wu King_) is placed the _Yih King_, or ‘Book of Changes,’ a work which if not--as it has been repeatedly called--_Antiquissimus Sinarum liber_, can be traced with tolerable accuracy to an origin three thousand years ago. It ranks, according to Dr. Legge, third in antiquity among the Chinese classics, or after the _Shu_ and portions of the _Shí King_; but if an unbounded veneration for enigmatical wisdom supposed to lie concealed under mystic lines be any just claim for importance, to this wondrous monument of literature may easily be conceded the first place in the estimation of Chinese scholars.

While following Dr. Legge in his recent exposition of this classic,[302] a clearer idea of its subject-matter can hardly be given than by quoting his words stating that “the text may be briefly represented as consisting of sixty-four short essays, enigmatically and symbolically expressed, on important themes, mostly of a moral, social, and political character, and based on the same number of lineal figures, each made up of six lines, some of which are whole and the others divided.” The evolution of the eight diagrams from two original principles is ascribed to Fuh-hí (B.C. 3322), who is regarded as the founder of the nation, though his history is, naturally enough, largely fabulous. From the _Liang Í_, or ‘Two Principles’ (⚊) (⚋), were fashioned the _Sz’ Siang_, or ‘Four Figures,’ by placing these over themselves and each of them over the other, thus:

⚌ ⚍ ⚎ ⚏

The same pairs placed in succession under the original lines formed eight trigrams called the

_PAH KWA_ of FUH-HÍ.

+-------------------+------------+---------------
| ☵ | ☶ | ☷
| _kan_ | _kăn_ | _kwăn_
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| Water, as in rain,| |
| clouds, springs, | Hills or | The Earth.
| streams, and | Mountains. |
| defiles. The Moon.| |
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| W. | N.W. | N.
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| Peril; difficulty.| Resting; | Capaciousness;
| | the act of | submission.
| | arresting. |
+-------------------+------------+---------------

~ITS PHILOSOPHICAL SYSTEM.~

The table furnishes us with the natural objects that these figures are said to represent, the attributes which should seem to be suggested by them, and which, with the application of the eight points of the compass, together form the material for a cabalistic logomancy peculiarly pleasing to Chinese habits of thought. The trigrams furnish, moreover, the state and position, at any given place or time, of the twofold division of the one primordial _kí_, or ‘Air,’ called _Yang_ and _Yin_, and have thus become the source from whence the system of _Fung-shui_ is derived and on whose changes it is founded. This substance _kí_ answers sufficiently closely to the animated air of the Grecian philosopher Anaximenes; its divisions are a subtle and a coarse principle which, acting and reacting upon each other, produce four _siang_, or ‘forms,’ and these again combine into eight _kwa_, or trigrams. Fuh-hí is thus said to have arranged the first four of the _Pah Kwa_ under the _Yang_ (strong or hard) principle, and the last four under the _Yin_ (weak or soft) principle; the former indicate vigor or authority, and it is their part to command, while of the latter, representing feebleness or submission, it is the part to obey.

It was probably Wăn Wang, King Wăn, chief of the principality of Chau in 1185 B.C., who when thrown into prison by his jealous suzerain Shau, the tyrant of Shang, arranged and multiplied the trigrams--long before his time used for purposes of divination--into the sixty-four hexagrams as they now occur in the _Yih King_. His was a wholly different disposition, both of names, attributes, and the compass points, from the original trigrams of Fuh-hí; again, he added to them certain social relations of father, mother, three sons, and three daughters, which has ever since been found a convenient addition to the conjuring apparatus of the work. “I like to think,” says Dr. Legge, “of the lord of Chau, when incarcerated in Yu-lí, with the sixty-four figures arranged before him. Each hexagram assumed a mystic meaning and glowed with a deep significance. He made it to tell him of the qualities of various objects of nature, or of the principles of human society, or of the condition, actual and possible, of the kingdom. He named the figures each by a term descriptive of the idea with which he had connected it in his mind, and then he proceeded to set that idea forth, now with a note of exhortation, now with a note of warning. It was an attempt to restrict the follies of divination within the bounds of reason.... But all the work of King Wăn in the _Yih_ thus amounts to no more than sixty-four short paragraphs. We do not know what led his son Tan to enter into his work and complete it as he did. Tan was a patriot, a hero, a legislator, and a philosopher. Perhaps he took the lineal figures in hand as a tribute of filial duty. What had been done for the whole hexagram he would do for each line, and make it clear that all the six lines ‘bent one way their precious influence,’ and blended their rays in the globe of light which his father had made each figure give forth. But his method strikes us as singular. Each line seemed to become living, and suggested some phenomenon in nature, or some case of human experience, from which the wisdom or folly, the luckiness or unluckiness, indicated by it could be inferred. It cannot be said that the duke carried out his plan in a way likely to interest any one but a _hien shăng_ who is a votary of divination and admires the style of its oracles. According to our notions, a framer of emblems should be a good deal of a poet; but those of the _Yih_ only make us think of a dryasdust. Out of more than three hundred and fifty, the greater number are only grotesque. We do not recover from the feeling of disappointment till we remember that both father and son had to write ‘according to the trick,’ after the manner of diviners, as if this lineal augury had been their profession.”

Such is the text of the _Yih_. The words of King Wăn and his son are followed by commentaries called the _Shih Yih_, or ‘Ten Wings.’ These are of a much later period than the text, and are commonly ascribed to Confucius, though it is extremely doubtful if the sage was author of more than the sentences introduced by the oft-repeated formula, “The Master said,” occurring in or concluding many chapters of the ‘Wings.’ Without lingering over the varied contents of these appendices, more than to point out that the fifth and sixth Wings (‘Appended Sentences’), known as the ‘Great Treatise,’ contains for the first time the character _Yih_, or ‘Change,’ it will be necessary, before leaving this classic, to illustrate its curious nature by means of a single quotation.

~EXTRACTS FROM THE YIH KING.~

XXXI.--THE _HIEN_ HEXAGRAM.

䷞

Hien indicates that [on the fulfilment of the conditions implied in
it] there will be free course and success. Its advantageousness will
depend on the being firm and correct, [as] in marrying a young lady.
There will be good fortune.

1. The first line, divided, shows one moving his great toes.

2. The second line, divided, shows one moving the calves of his leg.
There will be evil. If he abide [quiet in his place] there will be
good fortune.

3. The third line, undivided, shows one moving his thighs, and
keeping close hold of those whom he follows. Going forward [in this
way] will cause regret.

4. The fourth line, undivided, shows that firm correctness which will
lead to good fortune and prevent all occasion for repentance. If its
subject be unsettled in his movements, [only] his friends will follow
his purpose.

5. The fifth line, undivided, shows one moving the flesh along the
spine above the heart. There will be no occasion for repentance.

6. The sixth line, divided, shows one moving his jaws and tongue.

~ITS CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE.~

An idea of the several commentaries, or ‘Wings,’ upon such a passage may be gained from the following excerpts. First comes the ‘Treatise on the Twan,’ or King Wăn’s paragraphs; then the ‘Treatise on the Symbols,’ consisting of observations on Duke Chau’s exposition.

From the _Second Wing_.--1. _Hien_ is here used in the sense of
_Kan_, meaning [mutually] influencing.

2. The weak [trigram] above, and the strong one below; their two
influences moving and responding to each other, and thereby forming
a union; the repression [of the one] and the satisfaction [of the
other]; [with their relative position] where the male is placed
below the female--all these things convey the notion of ‘a free and
successful course [on the fulfilment of the conditions], while the
advantage will depend on being firm and correct, as in marrying a
young lady, and there will be good fortune.’ ... etc., etc.

_Fourth Wing._--[The trigram representing] a mountain and above it
that for [the waters of] a marsh form _Hien_. The superior man, in
accordance with this, keeps his mind free from preoccupation, and
open to receive [the influences of] others.

1. ‘He moves his great toe’--his mind is set on what is beyond
[himself].

2. Though ‘there would be evil, yet if he abide [quiet] in his
place there will be good fortune’--through compliance [with the
circumstances of his condition and place] there will be no injury.

3. ‘He moves his thighs’--he still does not [want to] rest in his
place. His will is set on ‘following others;’ what he holds in his
grasp is low.

4. ‘Firm correctness will lead to good fortune, and prevent all
occasion for repentance’--there has not yet been any harm from [a
selfish wish to] influence. ‘He is unsettled in his movements’--[his
power to influence] is not yet either brilliant or great.

5. ‘He [tries to] move the flesh along the spine above the
heart’--his aim is trivial.

6. ‘He moves his jaws and tongue’--he [only] talks with loquacious
mouth.

_Sixth Wing_ (‘Appended Sentences’).--Chapter I.--1. The eight
trigrams having been completed in their proper order, there were in
each the [three] emblematic lines. They were then multiplied by a
process of addition till the [six] component lines appeared.

2. The strong line and the weak push themselves each into the place
of the other, and hence the changes [of the diagrams] take place. The
appended explanations attach to every form of them its character [of
good or ill], and hence the movements [suggested by divination] are
determined accordingly.

3. Good fortune and ill, occasion for repentance or regret, all arise
from these movements ... etc., etc.

The hundreds of fortune-tellers seen in the streets of Chinese towns, whose answers to their perplexed customers are more or less founded on these cabala, indicate their influence among the illiterate; while among scholars, who have long since conceded all divination to be vain, it is surprising to remark the profound estimation in which these inane lines are held as the consummation of all wisdom--the germ, even, of all the truths which western science has brought to light! Each hexagram is supposed to represent, at any given time, six different phases of the primordial _kí_. “As all the good and evil in the world,” observes McClatchie, “is attributed by the Chinese philosophers to the purity or impurity of the animated air from which the two-fold soul in man is formed, a certain moral value attaches to each stroke, and the diviner prognosticates accordingly that good or evil luck, as the case may be, will result to the consulter of the oracle with regard to the matter on which he seeks it. Nine is the number of Heaven, or the undivided stroke, and six is the number of Earth, or the divided stroke, and hence each stroke has a double designation. The first stroke, if undivided, is designated ‘First-Nine,’ but if divided it is designated ‘First-Six,’ and so on. The second and fifth strokes in each diagram are important, being the centre or medium strokes of their respective lesser diagrams. The fifth stroke, however, is the most important in divination, as it represents that portion of the air which is the especial throne of the imperial power, and is the ‘undeflected due medium.’ Nothing but good luck can follow if the person divining with the straws obtains this stroke. Tao, or the Divine Reason, which is the supreme soul of the whole Kosmos, animates the air, pervading its six phases, and thus giving power to the diagrams to make known future events to mankind.”

Of course anything and everything could be deduced from such a fanciful groundwork, but the Chinese have taken up the discussion in the most serious manner, and endeavored to find the hidden meaning and evolutions of the universe from this curious system. The diagrams have, moreover, supplied the basis for many species of divination by shells, letters, etc., by which means the mass of the people are deluded into the belief of penetrating futurity, and still more wedded to their superstitions. The continued influence of such a work as the _Yih_ illustrates the national _penchant_ for laws and method, while equally indicating the general indifference to empirical research and the facts deduced from study of natural history. If, from a philosophical standpoint, we consider the barrenness of its results, there is little, indeed, to say for the _Yih King_, save concurrence in Dr. Gustave Schlegel’s epithet, “a mechanical play of idle abstractions;” nevertheless, this classic contains in its whimsical dress of inscrutable strokes much of practical wisdom, giving heed to which it is not hard to agree with Dr. Legge in concluding that “the inculcation of such lessons cannot have been without good effect in China during the long course of its history.”[303]

~THE SHU KING, OR BOOK OF RECORDS.~

The second section of the Imperial Catalogue contains treatises upon the _Shu King_, or ‘Book of Records.’ This classic, first in importance as it is in age among the five _King_, consists of a series of documents relating to the history of China from the times of Yao down to King Hiang, of the Chau dynasty (B.C. 2357-627). Its earlier chapters were composed at periods following the events of which they relate, but after the twenty-second century B.C. the _Shu_ comes to us, though in a mutilated condition, as the contemporary chronicle of proclamations, addresses, and principles of the early sovereigns. Internal evidence leads to the conclusion that Confucius acted chiefly as editor of documents existing in his day; he probably wrote the preface, but what alterations it received at his hand cannot now be ascertained. When it left his care it contained eighty-one documents in one hundred books, arranged under the five dynasties of Yao, Shun, Hia, Shang, and Chau, the last one coming down to within two hundred and twenty-one years of his own birth. Most of these are lost, and others are doubted by Chinese critics, so that now only forty-eight documents remain, thirty of them belonging to the Chau, with the preface ascribed to Confucius. He showed his estimate of their value by calling the whole _Shang Shu_, or the ‘Highest Book,’ and we may class their loss with that of other ancient works in Hebrew or Greek literature. The _Shu King_ now contains six different kinds of state papers, viz., imperial ordinances, plans drawn up by statesmen as guides for their sovereign, instructions prepared for the guidance of the prince, imperial proclamations and charges to the people, vows taken before Shangtí by the monarch when going out to battle, and, lastly, mandates, announcements, speeches, and canons issued to the ministers of state.[304]

The morality of the _Shu King_, for a pagan work, is extremely good; the principles of administration laid down in it, founded on a regard to the welfare of the people, would, if carried out, insure universal prosperity. The answer of Kaoyao to the monarch Yu is expressive of a mild spirit: “Your virtue, O Emperor, is faultless. You condescend to your ministers with a liberal ease; you rule the multitude with a generous forbearance. Your punishments do not extend to the criminal’s heirs, but your rewards reach to after-generations. You pardon inadvertent faults, however great, and punish deliberate crime, however small. In cases of doubtful crimes you deal with them lightly; of doubtful merit, you prefer the highest estimate. Rather than put to death the guiltless, you will run the risk of irregularity and laxity. This life-loving virtue has penetrated the minds of the people, and this is why they do not render themselves liable to be punished by your officers.”[305]

In the counsels of Yu to Shun are many of the best maxims of good government, both for rulers and ruled, which antiquity has handed down in any country. The following are among them: “Yih said, Alas! Be cautious. Admonish yourself to caution when there seems to be no reason for anxiety. Do not fail in due attention to laws and ordinances. Do not find enjoyment in indulgent ease. Do not go to excess in pleasure. Employ men of worth without intermediaries. Put away evil advisers, nor try to carry out doubtful plans. Study that all your purposes may be according to reason. Do not seek the people’s praises by going against reason, nor oppose the people to follow your own desires. Be neither idle nor wayward, and even foreign tribes will come under your sway.”

The _Shu King_ contains the seeds of all things that are valuable in the estimation of the Chinese; it is at once the foundation of their political system, their history, and their religious rites, the basis of their tactics, music, and astronomy. Some have thought that the knowledge of the true God under the appellation of Shangtí is not obscurely intimated in it, and the precepts for governing a country, scattered through its dialogues and proclamations, do their writers credit, however little they may have been followed in practice. Its astronomy has attracted much investigation, but whether the remarks of the commentators are to be ascribed to the times in which they themselves flourished, or to the knowledge they had of the ancient state of the science, is doubtful. The careful and candid discussions by Legge in the introduction to his translation furnish most satisfactory conclusions as to the origin, value, and condition of this venerable relic of ancient China. For his scholarly edition of the _Classics_ he has already earned the hearty thanks of every student of Chinese literature.[306]

~THE SHÍ KING, OR BOOK OF ODES.~

The third of the classics, the _Shí King_, or ‘Book of Odes,’ is ranked together with the two preceding, while its influence upon the national mind has been equally great; a list of commentators upon this work fills the third section of the Catalogue. These poetical relics are arranged into four parts: The _Kwoh Fung_, or ‘National Airs,’ numbering one hundred and fifty-nine, from fifteen feudal States; the _Siao Ya_, or ‘Lesser Eulogiums,’ numbering eighty, and arranged under eight decades; the _Ta Ya_, or ‘Greater Eulogiums,’ numbering thirty-one, under three decades (both of these were designed to be sung on solemn occasions at the royal court); and the _Sung_, or ‘Sacrificial Odes,’ numbering forty-one chants connected with the ancestral worship of the rulers of Chau, Lu, and Shang. Out of a total number of three hundred and eleven now extant, six have only their titles preserved, while to a major part of the others native scholars give many various readings.

In the preface to his careful translation Dr. Legge has collected all the important information concerning the age, origin, and purpose of these odes, as furnished by native commentators, whose theory is that “it was the duty of the kings to make themselves acquainted with all the odes and songs current in the different States, and to judge from them of the character of the rule exercised by their several princes, so that they might minister praise or blame, reward or punishment accordingly.” These odes and songs seem to have been gathered by Wăn Wang and Duke Chau at the beginning of the Chau dynasty (B.C. 1120), some of them at the capital, others from the feudal rulers in the course of royal progresses through the land, the royal music-master getting copies from the music-masters of the princes. The whole were then arranged, set to music, too, it may be, and deposited for use and reference in the national archives, as well as distributed among the feudatories. Their ages are uncertain, but probably do not antedate B.C. 1719 nor come after 585, or about thirty years before Confucius. Their number was not improbably at first fully up to the three thousand mentioned by the biographers of Confucius, but long before the sage appeared disasters of one kind and another had reduced them to nearly their present condition. What we have is, therefore, but a fragment of various collections made in the early reigns of the Chau sovereigns, which received, perhaps, larger subsequent additions than were preserved to the time of Confucius. He probably took them as they existed in his day, and feeling, possibly, like George Herbert, that

“A verse may finde him, who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice,”

did everything he could to extend their adoption among his countrymen. It is difficult to estimate the power they have exerted over the subsequent generations of Chinese scholars--nor has their influence ever tended to debase their morals, if it has not exalted their imagination. They have escaped the looseness of Moschus, Ovid, or Juvenal, if they have not attained the grandeur of Homer or the sweetness of Virgil and Pindar. There is nothing of an epic character in them--nor even a lengthened narrative--and little of human passions in their strong development. The metaphors and illustrations are often quaint, sometimes puerile, and occasionally ridiculous. Their acknowledged antiquity, their religious character, and their illustration of early Chinese customs and feelings form their principal claims to our notice and appreciative study. M. Ed. Biot, of Paris, was the first European scholar who studied them carefully in this aspect, and his articles in the _Journal Asiatique_ for 1843 are models of analytic criticism and synthetic compilation, enabling one, as he says, “to contemplate at his ease the spectacle of the primitive manners of society in the early age of China, so different from what was then found in Europe and Western Asia.”

~EXAMPLES OF ITS LYRIC POETRY.~

An ode referred to the time of Wăn Wang (a contemporary of Saul) contains a sentiment reminding us of Morris’ lines beginning “Woodman, spare that tree.” It is in Part I., Book II., and is called _Kan-tang_, or the ‘Sweet pear-tree.’

1. O fell not that sweet pear-tree!
See how its branches spread.
Spoil not its shade,
For Shao’s chief laid
Beneath it his weary head.

2. O clip not that sweet pear-tree!
Each twig and leaflet spare--
’Tis sacred now,
Since the lord of Shao,
When weary, rested him there.

3. 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 Shao.[307]

The eighth ode in Book III., called _Hiung Chí_, or ‘Cock Pheasant,’ contains a wife’s lament on her husband’s absence.

1. 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!

2. 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.

3. 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?

4. 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?[308]

From the same book we translate somewhat freely an example (No. 17) of love-song, or serenade, not uncommon among these odes.

Maiden fair, so sweet, retiring,
At the tryst I wait for thee;
Still I pause in doubt, inquiring
Why thou triflest thus with me.

Ah! the maid so coy, so handsome,
Pledged she with a rosy reed;
Than the reed is she more winsome.
Love with beauty hard must plead!

In the meadows sought we flowers,
These she gave me--beauteous, rare:
Far above the gift there towers
The dear giver--lovelier, fair!

Among the ‘Lesser Eulogiums’ (Book IV., Ode 5) is one more ambitious in its scope, relating to the completion of a palace of King Siuen, about B.C. 800.

1. On yonder banks a palace, lo! upshoots,
The tender blue of southern hill behind,
Time-founded, like the bamboo’s clasping roots;
Its roof, made pine-like, to a point defined.
Fraternal love here bears its precious fruits,
And unfraternal schemes be ne’er designed!

2. 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.

3. 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.

4. 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.

5. 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.

6. Laid is the bamboo mat on rush mat square;
Here shall he sleep; and waking say, “Divine
What dreams are good? For bear and piebald bear,
And snakes and cobras haunt this couch of mine.”

7. Then shall the chief diviner glad reply,
“The bears foreshow their signs of promised sons.
The snakes and cobras daughters prophesy:
These auguries are all auspicious ones.”

8. 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.

9. 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.[309]

The last two stanzas indicate the comparative estimate, in ancient days, of boys and girls born into a family; and this estimate, still maintained, has been in a great degree upheld by this authority. Another ode in the ‘Greater Eulogies’ (Book III., Ode 10) deplores the misery that prevailed about B.C. 780, owing to the interference of women and eunuchs in the government. Two stanzas only are quoted, which are supposed to have been specially directed against Pao Sz’, a mischief-maker in the court of King Yu, like Agrippina and Pulcheria in Roman and Byzantine annals.

3. A wise man builds the city wall,
But a wise woman throws it down.
Wise is she? Good you may her call;
She is an owl we should disown!
To woman’s tongue let scope be given
And step by step to harm it leads.
Disorder does not come from Heaven;
’Tis woman’s tongue disorder breeds.
Women and eunuchs! Never came
Lesson or warning words from them!

4. Hurtful and false, their spite they wreak;
And when exposed their falsehood lies--
The wrong they do not own, but sneak
And say, “No harm did we devise.”
“Thrice cent. per cent.!” Why, that is trade!
Yet ’twould the princely man disgrace.
So public things to wife and maid
Must not silkworms and looms displace.[310]

There are, however, numerous stanzas among the odes in the ‘National Airs’ which show their fairer side and go far to neutralize these, giving the same contrasts in female character which were portrayed by King Solomon during the same age.

~VERSIFICATION OF THE SHÍ KING.~

The versification in a monosyllabic language appears very tame to those who are only familiar with the lively and varied rhythms of western tongues; but the Chinese express more vivacity and cadence in their ballads and ditties when sung than one would infer from these ancient relics when transliterated in our letters. As the young lad has usually committed all the three hundred and five odes to memory before he enters the Examination Hall, their influence on the matter and manner of his own future poetical attempts can hardly be exaggerated. It is shown throughout the thousands of volumes enumerated in the fourth division of the Imperial Catalogue. Most of the _Shí King_ is written in tetrametres, and nothing can be more simple. They have been most unfortunately likened to the Hebrew Psalms by some of the early missionaries, but neither in manner nor matter is the comparison a happy one. One point of verbal resemblance is noticed by Dr. Legge between the first ode in Part III. and the one hundred and twenty-first psalm, where the last line of a stanza is generally repeated in the first line of the next, a feature something like the repetitions in _Hiawatha_. The rhymes and tones both form an essential part of Chinese poetry, one which can only be imperfectly represented in our language. The following furnishes an example of the general style, to which a literal rendering is subjoined:

1. _Nan yin kiao muh,_ South has stately trees,
_Puh k’o hiu sih;_ Not can shelter indeed;
_Han yin yin nü,_ Han has rambling women,
_Puh k’o kiu sz’._ Not can solicit indeed.
_Han chí kwang í,_ Han’s breadth be sure,
_Puh k’o yung sz’;_ Not can be dived indeed;
_Kiang chí yung í_ Kiang’s length be sure,
_Puh k’o fang sz’._ Not can be rafted indeed.

2. _Kiao kiao tso sin,_ Many many mixed faggots,
_Yen í kí chu;_ Willingly I cut the brambles;
_Chí tsz’ yü kwei_ Those girls going home,
_Yen moh kí ma;_ Willingly I would feed their horses;
_Han chí kwang í, etc._ Han’s breadth be sure, etc.

3. _Kiao kiao tso sin,_ Many many mixed faggots,
_Yen í kí lao;_ Willingly I cut the artemisia;
_Chí tsz’ yü kwei_ Those girls going home,
_Yen moh kí kü._ Willingly I would feed their colts;
_Han chí kwang í, etc._ Han’s breadth be sure, etc.

The highest range of thought in the odes is contained in Part IV., but the whole collection is worthy of perusal, and through the labors of Dr. Legge has been made more accessible than it was ever before. The amount of native literature extant, illustrative, critical, and philological, referring to the _Book of Odes_[311] is not so large as that on the _Yih King_; but the fifty-five works quoted in his preface[312] contain enough to indicate their industry and acumen. These works will elevate the character of Chinese scholarship in the opinion of those foreigners who remember the disadvantages of its isolation from the literature of other lands, and the difficulties of a language which rendered that literature inaccessible.[313]

~THE THREE RITUALS.~

The fourth section in the Catalogue contains the Rituals and a list of their editions and commentators, but only one of the three is numbered among the _King_ and used as a text-book at the public examinations. This is the _Lí Kí_, or ‘Book of Rites,’ the _Mémorial des Rites_, as M. Callery calls it in his translation,[314] and one of the works which has done so much to mold and maintain Chinese character and institutions. It is not superior in any respect to the _Chau Lí_ and the _Í Lí_, but owes its influence to its position. They were all the particular objects of Tsin Chí Hwangtí’s ire in his efforts to destroy every ancient literary production in his kingdom; the present texts were recovered from their hiding-places about B.C. 135. The _Chau Lí_, or ‘Ritual of Chau,’ is regarded as the work of Duke Chau (B.C. 1130), who gives the detail of the various offices established under the new dynasty, in which he bore so prominent a part. The sections containing the divisions of the administrative part of the Chinese government of that day have furnished the types for the six boards of the present day and their subdivisions. So far as we now know, no nation then existing could show so methodical and effective a system of national polity.

The _Í Lí_ is a smaller work, treating of family affairs, and as its name, ‘Decorum Ritual,’ indicates, contains directions for domestic life, as the other does for state matters. That is in forty-four sections and this is in seven, and both are now accepted as among the most ancient works extant. The former was translated by Ed. Biot,[315] and remains a monument of his scholarship and research.

~THE LÍ KÍ, OR BOOK OF RITES.~

The _Lí Kí_ owes its position among the classics to the belief that Confucius here gives his views on government and manners, although these chapters are not regarded as the same in their integrity as those said to have been found in the walls of his house, and brought to light in the second century B.C. by Kao Tang of Lu, under the name of _Sz’ Lí_, or the ‘Scholar’s Ritual.’ In the next century Tai Teh collected all the existing documents relating to the ancient rituals in two hundred and fourteen sections, only a portion of which were then held to have emanated from the sage and recorded by his pupils. His work, in eighty-five sections, is called _Ta Tai Lí_, or the ‘Senior Tai’s Ritual,’ to distinguish it from the _Siao Tai Lí_, or the ‘Junior Tai’s Ritual,’ a work in forty-nine sections, by his nephew, Tai Shing. This is the work now known as the _Lí Kí_, M. Callery’s translation of which contains the authorized text of Kanghí according to Fan Tsz’-tăng, in thirty-six sections, with many notes. His translation is wearisome reading from the multitude of parentheses interjected into the text, distracting the attention and weakening its continuity.

Those who have read Abbé Huc’s entertaining remarks on the Rites in China will find in these three works the reason and application of their details. In explanation of their importance, M. Callery shows in a few words what a wide field they cover: “Ceremony epitomizes the entire Chinese mind; and, in my opinion, the _Lí Kí_ is _per se_ the most exact and complete monograph that China has been able to give of itself to other nations. Its affections, if it has any, are satisfied by ceremony; its duties are fulfilled by ceremony; its virtues and vices are referred to ceremony; the natural relations of created beings essentially link themselves in ceremonial--in a word, to that people ceremonial is man as a moral, political, and religious being in his multiplied relations with family, country, society, morality, and religion.” This explanation shows, too, how meagre a rendering _ceremony_ is for the Chinese idea of _lí_, for it includes not only the external conduct, but involves the right principles from which all true etiquette and politeness spring. The state religion, the government of a family, and the rules of society are all founded on the true _lí_, or relations of things. Reference has already been made to this profoundly esteemed work (p. 520), and one or two more extracts will suffice to exhibit its spirit and style, singular in its object and scope among all the bequests of antiquity.

_Affection between father and son._

In the Domestic Rules it is said, “Men in serving their parents,
at the first cock-crowing, must all wash their hands; rinse their
mouth; comb their hair; bind it together with a net; fasten it with
a bodkin, forming it into a tuft; brush off the dust; put on the
hat, tying the strings, ornamented with tassels; also the waistcoat,
frock, and girdle, with the note-sticks placed in it, and the
indispensables attached on the right and left; bind on the greaves;
and put on the shoes, tying up the strings. Wives must serve their
husband’s father and mother as their own; at the first cock-crowing,
they must wash their hands; rinse their mouth; comb their hair; bind
it together with a net; fasten it with a bodkin, forming it into
a tuft; put on their frocks and girdles, with the indispensables
attached on the right and left; fasten on their bags of perfumery;
put on and tie up their shoes. Then go to the chamber of their father
and mother, and father-in-law and mother-in-law, and having entered,
in a low and placid tone they must inquire whether their dress is too
warm or too cool; if the parents have pain or itching, themselves
must respectfully press or rub [the part affected]; and if they enter
or leave the room, themselves either going before or following, must
respectfully support them. In bringing the apparatus for washing, the
younger must present the bowl; the elder the water, begging them to
pour it and wash; and after they have washed, hand them the towel.
In asking and respectfully presenting what they wish to eat, they
must cheer them by their mild manner; and must wait till their father
and mother, and father-in-law and mother-in-law have eaten, and then
retire. Boys and girls, who have not arrived at the age of manhood
and womanhood, at the first cock-crowing must wash their hands; rinse
their mouth; comb their hair; bind it together with a net; and form
it into a tuft; brush off the dust; tie on their bags, having them
well supplied with perfumery; then hasten at early dawn to see their
parents, and inquire if they have eaten and drunk; if they have, they
must immediately retire; but if not, they must assist their superiors
in seeing that everything is duly made ready.”

_Of reproving parents._

“When his parents are in error, the son with a humble spirit,
pleasing countenance, and gentle tone, must point it out to them. If
they do not receive his reproof, he must strive more and more to be
dutiful and respectful toward them till they are pleased, and then
he must again point out their error. But if he does not succeed in
pleasing them, it is better that he should continue to reiterate
reproof, than permit them to do injury to the whole department,
district, village, or neighborhood. And if the parents, irritated and
displeased, chastise their son till the blood flows from him, even
then he must not dare to harbor the least resentment; but, on the
contrary, should treat them with increased respect and dutifulness.”

_Respect to be paid parents in one’s conduct._

“Although your father and mother are dead, if you propose to yourself
any good work, only reflect how it will make their names illustrious,
and your purpose will be fixed. So if you propose to do what is not
good, only consider how it will disgrace the names of your father and
mother, and you will desist from your purpose.”[316]

These extracts show something of the molding principles which operate on Chinese youth from earliest years, and the scope given in his education to filial piety. From conning such precepts the lad is imbued with a respect for his parents that finally becomes intensified into a religious sentiment, and forms, as he increases in age, his only creed--the worship of ancestors. His seniors, on the other hand, have but to point to the text-books before him as authority for all things they exact, and as being the only possible source of those virtues that conduct to happiness. The position of females, too, has remained, under these dogmas, much the same for hundreds of years. Nor is it difficult to account for the influence which they have had. Those who were most aware of their excellence, and had had some experience in the tortuous dealings of the human heart, as husbands, fathers, mothers, officers, and seniors, were those who had the power to enforce obedience upon wives, children, daughters, subjects, and juniors, as well as teach it to them. These must wait till increasing years brought about their turn to fill the upper rank in the social system, by which time habit would lead them to exercise their sway over the rising generation in the same manner. Thus it would be perpetuated, for the man could not depart from the way his childhood was trained; had the results been more disastrous, it would have been easy for us to explain why, amid the ignorance, craft, ambition, and discontent found in a populous, uneducated, pagan country, such formal rules had failed of benefiting society to any lasting extent. We must look higher for this result, and acknowledge the degree of wholesome restraint upon the passions of the Chinese which the Author of whatever is good in these tenets has seen fit to confer upon them in order to the preservation of society.

~THE CHUN TSIU, OR SPRING AND AUTUMN RECORD.~

The fifth section contains the _Chun Tsiu_, or ‘Spring and Autumn Record,’ and its literature. This is the only one of the _King_ attributed to Confucius, though whether we have in the _Record_, as it now exists, a genuine compilation of the sage, does not appear to be beyond doubt. His object being to construct a narrative of events in continuation of the _Shu King_, he, with assistance from his pupils, drew up a history of his own country, extending from the reign of Ping Wang to about the period of his birth (B.C. 722 to 480). Inasmuch as the author of this chronicle confined himself to the relation of such facts as he deemed worthy to be recorded, and was not above altering or concealing such details as in his private judgment appeared unworthy of the princes of his dynasty, this history cannot be regarded as exactly in conformity with modern notions of what is desirable in works of this class. That Confucius wished to leave behind him a lasting monument to his own name, as well as a narration of events, we gather from more than one of his utterances: “The superior man is distressed lest his name should not be honorably mentioned after death. My principles do not make way in the world; how shall I make myself known to future ages?” In order, therefore, to insure the preservation of his _chef d’œuvre_ to all time, he combines with the annals certain censures and righteous decisions which should render it at once a history and a text-book of moral lessons; and in giving the book to his disciples, “It is by the _Chun Tsiu_,” he said, “that after-ages will know me, and also by it that they will condemn me.”

The title, “Spring and Autumn,” is understood by many Chinese scholars to be a term for chronological annals; in this case the name being explained “because their commendations are life-giving like spring, and their censures life-withering like autumn,” or, as we find in the _Trimetrical Classic_, “which by praise and blame separates the good and bad.”[317] A closer inspection of the _Chun Tsiu_ is sure to prove disappointing; spite of the glowing accounts of Mencius and its great reputation, this history is simply a bald record of incidents whose entire contents afford barely an hour’s reading. “Instead of a history of events,” writes Dr. Legge, “woven artistically together, we find a congeries of the briefest possible intimations of matters in which the court and State of Lu were more or less concerned, extending over two hundred and forty-two years, without the slightest tincture of literary ability in the composition, or the slightest indication of judicial opinion on the part of the writer. The paragraphs are always brief. Each one is designed to commemorate a fact; but whether that fact be a display of virtue calculated to command our admiration, or a deed of atrocity fitted to awaken our disgust, it can hardly be said that there is anything in the language to convey to us the shadow of an idea of the author’s feelings about it. The notices--for we cannot call them narratives--are absolutely unimpassioned. A base murder and a shining act of heroism are chronicled just as the eclipses of the sun are chronicled. So and so took place; that is all. No details are given; no judgment is expressed.”

~ITS COMMENTARIES.~

So imperturbable a recital could hardly have been saved from extinction even by the great reputation of the sage, had it not been for the amplification of Tso, a younger contemporary or follower of Confucius, who filled up the meagre sentences and added both flesh and life to the skeleton. It is possible that the enthusiastic praises of Mencius are due to the fact that he associated the text and commentary as one work. The Chuen of Tso has indeed always been regarded as foremost among the secondary classics; nor is it too much, considering his terse yet vivid and pictorial style, to call its author, as does Dr. Legge, “the Froissart of China.”[318] In addition to his purpose of explaining the text of the _Chun Tsiu_, Tso’s secondary object was to give a general view of the history of China during the period embraced by that record; unless he had put his living tableaux into the framework of his master, there is grave reason to fear that many most important details relating to the sixth and seventh centuries B.C. would have been forever lost. Two other early commentaries, those of Kung Yang and Kuh Liang, dating from about the second century B.C., occupy a high position in the estimation of Chinese scholars as illustrative of the original chronicle. They do not compare with the _Tso Chuen_ either in interest or in authority, though it may be said that a study of the _Chun Tsiu_ can hardly be made unless attended with a careful perusal of their contents. It will not be without interest to give an example of the _Record_, followed with elucidations of the text by these three annotators. The second year of Duke Hí of Lu (B.C. 657) runs as follows:

~EXTRACTS FROM THE CHUN TSIU.~

1. In the [duke’s] second year, in spring, in the king’s first month,
we [aided in the] walling of Tsu-kin.

2. In summer, in the fifth month, on Sin-sz’, we buried our duchess,
Gai Kiang.

3. An army of Yu and an army of Tsin extinguished Hia-yang.

4. In autumn, in the ninth month, the Marquis of Tsz’, the Duke of
Sung, an officer of Kiang, and an officer of Hwang, made a covenant
in Kwan.

5. In winter, in the tenth month, there was no rain.

6. A body of men from Tsu made an incursion into Ching.

Upon the third entry for this year the _Tso Chuen_ enlarges:

Seun Seih, of Tsin, requested leave from the marquis to take his team
of Kiuh horses and his _peih_ of Chui-keih jade, and with them borrow
a way from Yu to march through it and attack Kwoh. “They are the
things I hold most precious,” said the marquis. Seih replied, “But if
you get a way through Yu, it is but like placing them in a treasury
outside the State for a time.” “There is Kung Che-kí in Yu,” objected
the duke. “Kung Che-kí,” returned the other, “is a weak man, and
incapable of remonstrating vigorously. And, moreover, from his youth
up he has always been with the Duke of Yu, who is so familiar with
him that though he should remonstrate the duke will not listen to
him.” The marquis accordingly sent Seun Seih to borrow a way through
Yu with this message: “Formerly Kí, against right and reason, entered
your State from Tien-ling, and attacked the three gates of Ming. It
suffered for so doing, all through your grace. Now Kwoh, against
right and reason, has been keeping guards about the travellers’
lodges, to make incursions from them into my southern borders, and
I venture to beg a right of way from you to ask an account of its
offence.” The Duke of Yu granted the request, and even asked to take
the lead in invading Kwoh. Kung Che-kí remonstrated with him, but in
vain; and he raised his army for the enterprise. In summer, Lí Kih
and Seun Seih brought on the army of Tsin, made a junction with that
of Yu, and invaded Kwoh, when they extinguished Hia-yang. The army of
Yu is mentioned first, because of the bribes which the duke accepted.

The commentary of Kung Yang says on the same paragraph:

Yu was a small State; why is it that it is here made to take
precedence of a great one? To make Yu take the lead in the wickedness.

Why is Yu made to take the lead in the wickedness? Yu received the
bribes with which those [who were going to] extinguish the State [of
Kwoh] borrowed a way through it, and thus brought on its own ruin.

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The Middle Kingdom, Volume 1 (of 2)Chapter XI: Classical Literature of the Chinese (1)

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