Mencius

Here again we inust admire the ingenuity of Mencius ; but it amuses us more than it satisfies. It was very well for him to maintain his dignity as " a Teacher/' and not go to the princes when they called him,, but his refusal would have had more weight, if he had kept his hands clean from all their offerings. I have said above that if less awe-ful than Confucius, he is more admirable. Perhaps it would be better to say he is more brilliant. There is some truth in the saying of the scholar Ch/ing, that the one is the glass that glitters, and the other the gem that is truly valuable. Without dwelling on other characteristics of Mencius, or culling from him. other striking sayings, — of which there are many, — I proceed to exhibit and discuss his doctrine of the goodness of human nature. 6. If the remarks which I have just made on the inter course of Mencius with the princes of his day have lowered him somewhat in the estimation of my readers, Mencius' view his doctrine of human nature, and the force with °f human i . T •, T ., .,, „ ., , , nature ; its idcn-

wnicn he advocates it, will not tail to produce ttty with that of a high appreciation of him as a moralist^ and BMlop Butler" thinker. In concluding my exhibition of the opinions of Confucius in the former volume, I have observed that " he threw no light on any of the questions which have a world wide interest." This Mencius did. The constitution of man's nature, and how far it supplies to him a rule of con- 1 Bk V. Pt II. iv. duct and a law of duty, are inquiries than which there can hardly be any others of more importance. They were large ly discussed in the Schools of Greece. A hundred vigorous and acute minds of modern Europe have occupied themselves with them. It will hardly be questioned in England that the palm for clear and just thinking on the subject belongs to Bishop Butler, but it will presently be seen that his views and those of Mencius are, as nearly as possible, identical. There is a difference of nomenclature and a combination of parts, in which the advantage is with the Christian prelate. Felicity of illustration and charm of style belong to the Chi nese philosopher. The doctrine in both is the same.

The utterances of Confucius on the subject of our nature were few and brief. The most remarkable is where he says : view of Con- — " Man is born for uprightness. If a man be without uprightness and yet live, his escape [from death] is the effect of mere good fortune." This is in entire accordance with Mencius' view, and as he appeals to the sage in his own support,2 though we cannot elsewhere find the words which he quotes, we may believe that Con fucius would have approved of the sentiments of his follower, and frowned on those who have employed some of his say ings in confirmation of other conclusions.3 I am satisfied in my own mind on this point. His repeated enunciation of" the golden rule/' though only in a negative form, is suf ficient evidence of it. The opening sentence of " The Doctrine of the Mean," — "What Heaven has conferred is called THE NATURE ; an acvicwofTsze-szc. cordance with this nature is called THE PATH; the regulation of the path is called INSTRUCTION," finds a much better illustration from Mencius than from Tsze-sze himself. The germ of his doctrine lies in it. We saw reason to discard the notion that he was a pupil of Tsze-sze ; but he was acquainted with his treatise just named, and as he has used some other parts of it, we may be surprised that in his discussions on human nature he has made no re ference to the above passage.

What gave occasion to his dwelling largely on the theme was the prevalence of wild and injurious speculations about 1 Ana., VI. xvii. 2 Bk VI. Pt I. vi. 8 ; viii. 4. 3 See the annotations of the editor of Yang-tsze's works in the " Complete Works of the Ten Tsze." it. In nothing did the disorder of the age prevalent more appear. Kung-too, one of his disciples, ^ture^n IMenonce went to him and said : — cius> time- " The philosopher Kaou says : — ' Man's nature is neither good nor bad.' Some say : — ' Man's nature may be made to practise good, and it may be made to practise evil ; and accordingly, under Wan and Woo, the people loved what was good, while, under Yew and Le, they loved what was cruel.' Others say : — ' The nature of some is good, and the nature of others is bad. Hence it was that under such a sovereign as Yaou there yet appeared Seang ; that with sucli a father as Koo-sow there yet appeared Shun ; and that with Chow for their sovereign, and the son of their elder brother besides, there were found K'e, the viscount of Wei, and the prince Pe-kan.' And now you say : — ' The nature is good.' Then are all those opinions wrong 1 " '

* "The nature of man is good :" — this was Mencius' doctrine. By many writers it has been represented as entirely antagon istic to Christianity; and, as thus broadly and briefly enun ciated, it sounds startling enough. As fully explained by himself, however, it is not so very terrible. Butler's scheme has been designated "the system of Zeno baptized into Christ."2 That of Mencius, identifying closely with the master of the Porch, is yet more susceptible of a similar transformation. But before endeavouring to make this statement good, it will be well to make some observations on the opinion of the philosopher Kaou. He was a contemporary of View of the TkjT • I.LI -i j • i philosopher Mencius, and they came into argumentative col- Kaou. lision. One does not see immediately the difference between his opinion, as stated by Kung-too, and the next. Might not man's nature, though neither good nor bad, be made to practise the one or the other ? Kaou's view went to deny any essential distinction between goocTanct evil, — virtue and vice. A man might be made to act in away commonly called virtue and in a way commonly called evil, but in the one ac tion there was really nothing more approvable than in the other. "Life," he said, "was what was meant by nature."3 The~phenomena of benevolence and righteousness were akin to those of walking and sleeping, eating and seeing. This extravagance afforded scope for Mencius' favourite mode of argument, the reductio ad absurdum. He showed, on Kaou's

1 Bk VI. Pt I. vi. 1—4. 2 Wardlaw's Christian Ethics, edition of 1833, p. 119. 3 Bk VI. Pt I. iii. principles, that "the nature of a dog was like the nature of an ox, and the nature of an ox like the nature of a man." The two first conversations1 between them are more par ticularly worthy of attention, because, while they are a coriMencins- ex- futatioii of his opponent, they indicate clearly posureof Kaous our philosopher's own theory. Kaou compared statement of MS man's nature to a willow tree, and benevolence own doctrine. and righteousness to ^e cups and bowls that might be fashioned from its wood. Mencius replied that it was not the nature of the willow to produce cups and bowls ; they might be made from it indeed, by bending and cutting and otherwise injuring it ; but must humanity be done such violence to in order to fashion the virtues from it .? Kaou again compared the nature to water whirling round in a cor ner ; — open a passage for it in any direction, and it will flow forth accordingly. "Man's nature," said he, "is indifferent to good and evil, just as the water is indifferent to the east and west." Mencius answered him : — " Water indeed will flow indifferently to the east or west, but will it flow indiffer ently up or down ? The tendency of man's nature to good is like the tendency of water to flow downwards. There are. none but have this tendency to good, just as all water flows downwards. By striking water and causing it to leap up, you may make it go over your forehead, and, by damming arid leading it, you may force it up a hill ; but are such move ments according to the nature of water ? It is the force ap plied which causes them. When men are made to do what is not good, their nature is dealt with in this way."

Mencius has no stronger language than this, as indeed it would be difficult to find any stronger, to declare his belief in the goodness of human nature. To many Christian readers it proves a stumbling-block and offence. But I venture to think that this is without sufficient reason. He is speaking of our nature in its ideal, and not as it actually is, — as we may ascertain from the study of it that it ought to be, and not as it is made to become. My rendering of the sentences last quoted may be objected to, because of my introduction of the term tendency ; but I have Mencius' express sanction for the representation I give of his meaning. Replying to Kungtoo's question). whether all the other opinions prevalent about man's nature were wrong, and his own, that it is good, cor- 1 Bk VI. Pt I. i. ii. rect,)he said : — "From the feelings proper to it, we see that it is/ constituted for the practice of what is good. This is what I mean in saying that the nature is good. If men do \vhat_is not good, the blame cannot be imputed to~ their na tural powers."1 Those who find the most fault with him, will hardly question the truth of this last declaration. When a man does wrong, whose is the blame, — the sin.?_ He. might focTglad to roll the guilt on his Maker, or upon his nature, — which4s-tmly an indirect charging of his Maker with.it'; — boii-itis his own burden, which he must bear himself.

The proof by which Mencius supports his view of" human nature as formed only for virtue is twofold. First, he main tains that there are in man a natural principle Proofs that of benevolence, a natural principle of righteous- formed for1"' IfesSipa natural principle of propriety, and a jirtue— First i - •-,'- -. - ^ -if i T -J-i- ••- from its moral iratural_]")rinciple of apprehending moral truth, constituents. "TlTese/^he says, "are not infused into us from without. We are certainly possessed of them ; and a different view is simply from want of reflection." 2 In further illustration of this he argued thus : — "AH men. h#ve..a,jnijML which cannot bear to see the sufferings of others. My meaning may be illustrated thus : — Even now-a-days," i. e., in these degenerate times, " if meu. suddenly see a child about to fall into a well, they will without exception experience a feeling of alarm and distress. They will feel so, not as a ground on which they may gain the favour of the child's parents, nor as a ground on which they may seek the praise of their neigh bours and friends, nor from a dislike to the reputation of having been un moved .b^suQh a thing. From this case we may see that the feeling of cdnmiseration^s essential to man, that the feeling of shame and dislike is essential to num. thai the fei lin<.r of modesty SHU! complaisance is ess* ntial to man, and that the feeling of approval and disapproval is essential to man. These feelings are the principles respectively of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and the knowledge [of good and evil]. ( Men have these four principles just as they have their four limbs." 3 I

Let all this be compared with the language of Butler in his three famous Sermons upon Human Nature. He shows in the first of these : — " First, that there is a natural princi ple of benevolence in man ; secondly, that the several pas sions and affections, which are distinct both from benevolence and self-love, do in general contribute and lead us to public good as really as to private; and thirdly, that there is a 1 Bk VI. Ft I. vi. 5, G. 2 Ek VI. rt I. vi. 7 3 Bk II. Pt I. vi. 3, 4, 5, 6. principle of reflection in men, by which they distinguish between, approve and disapprove, their own actions." x Is there anything more in this than was apprehended and ex pressed by Mencius ? Butler says.ia the conclusion of his first discourse that " men follow their nature to a certain degree but _ npt ejiiirely ; . , their -actions do not come up to the whole.-of - \v4iat-.their._nature leads them to ; and they often violate their nature." This also Mencius declares in his own forceful manner : — " When men having these four principles, yet say of themselves that they cannot develope them, they play the thief with themselves, and he who says of his prince that he cannot develope them, plays the thief with his prince." 2 " Men differ from one another in regard to the principles of their nature ; — some as much again as others, some five times as much, and some to an incalculable amount : — it is because they cannot carry out fully their natural powers." 3

So much for the first or preliminary view of human nature insisted on by Mencius, that it contains principles which are disinterested and virtuous. But there wants something more to make good the position that virtue 1 I nm indebted to Butler for fulty understanding Mencius' fourth feeling, that of approving and disapproving, which he calls " the principle of know ledge," or wisdom. In the notes on II. Ft I. vi. 5, 1 have said that he gives to this term " a moral sense." It is the same with Butler's principle of reflection, by which men distinguish between, and approve or disapprove, their own actions. — I have heard gentlemen speak contemptuously of Mencius' case in point, to prove the existence of a feeling of benevolence in man. " This," they have said, " is Mencius' idea of virtue, to save a child from falling into a well. A mighty display of virtue, truly ! " Such language arises from misconceiving Mencius' object in putting the case. " If there be," says But ler, " any affection in human nature, the object and end of which is the good of another, this is itself benevolence. Be it ever so short, be it in ever so low a degree, or ever so unhappily confined, it proves the assertion and points out what we were designed for, as really as though it were in a higher degree and more extensive." "It is sufficient that the seeds of it be implanted in our nature." The illustration from a child falling into a well must be pro nounced a happy one. How much lower Mencius could go may be seen from his conversation with king Seuen, Bk I. Pt I. vii., whom he leads to a consciousness of his commiserating mind from the fact that he had not been able to bear the frightened appearance of a bull which was being led by to be killed, and ordered it to be spared. The kindly heart that was moved by the suffering of an animal had only to be carried out, to suffice for the love and protection of all within the four seas.

" Bk II. Pt I. vi. 6. 3 Bk VI. Pt I. vi. 7. ought to be supreme, and that it is for it, in Second proof opposition to vice, that our nature is formed. naturcTf^rmed To use some of the "licentious talk" which *°r. virtue :~that _ . „ it is a constitu- Butler puts into the mouth of an opponent: — tion, where the fc^T- L ^ v • • 1 ll j- J higher principles ' V irtue and religion require not only that we do should rule the good to others, when we are led this way, by lowerbenevolence and reflection happening to be stronger than other principles, passions, or appetites ; but likewise that the whole character be formed upon thought and reflection; that every action be directed by some determinate rule, some other rule than the strength or prevalence of any principle or passion. What sign is there in our nature (for the in quiry is only about what is to be collected from thence) that this was intended by its Author ? Or how does so various and fickle a temper as that of man appear adapted thereto ? .... As brutes have various instincts, by which they are carried on to the end the Author of their nature intended them for, is not man in the same condition, with this dif ference only, that to his instincts (i.e., appetites and pas sions) is added the principle of reflection or conscience ? And as brutes act agreeably to their nature in following that principle or particular instinct which for the present is strongest in them ; does not man likewise act agreeably to his nature, or obey the law of his creation, by following that principle, be it passion or conscience, which for the

present happens to be strongest in him ? Let every one then quietly follow his nature ; as passion, reflection, appetite, the several parts of it, happen to be the strongest ; but let not the man of virtue take it upon him to blame the ambitious, the covetous, the dissolute ; since these, equally with him, obey and follow their nature/' : To all this Butler replies by showing that the principle of reflection or conscience is " not to be considered merely as a principle in the heart, which is to have some influence as well as others, but as a faculty, in kind and in nature, supreme over all others, and which bears its own authority of being so;" that the difference between this and the other constituents of human nature is not " a difference in strength or degree," but " a difference in nature and in kind ; " that " it was placed within to be our proper governor ; to direct and regulate all under principles, pas- 1 See Sermon Second. sions and motives of action : — this is its right and office ; thus sacred is its authority." It follows from the view of human nature thus established, that " the inward frame of man is a system or constitution; whose several parts are united, not by a physical principle of individuation, but by the respects they have to each other, the chief of which is the subjection which the appetites, passions, and particular affections have to the one supreme principle of reflection or conscience/'' l

Now, the substance of this reasoning is to be found in Mencius. Human nature — the inward frame of man — is with him a system or constitution as much as with Butler. He says, for instance : — " There is no part of himself which a man does not love ; and as he loves all, so he should nourish all. There is not an inch of skin which he does not love, and so there is not an inch of skin which he will not nourish. FOR EXAMINING WHETHER HIS WAY OF NOURISHING BE GOOD OR NOT, WHAT OTHER RULE IS THERE Bl'T THIS, THAT HE DETERMINE BY REFLECT ING ON HIMSELF AVHERE IT SHOULD BE APPLIED ? " Some parts of the body are noble, and some ignoble : some great and some small. The great must not be injured for the small, nor the noble for the ignoble. He who nourishes the little belonging to him is a little man, aud he who nourishes the great is a great man." 2 " Those who follow that part of themselves which is great are great men ; those who follow that part which is little are little men."3

The great part of ourselves is the moral elements of our constitution ; the lower part is the appetites and passions that centre in self. He says finely : — " There is a nobilit}1 of Heaven, and there is a nobility of man. Benevo lence, righteousness, self-consecration, and fidelity, with unwearied joy in the goodness [of these virtues] : — these constitute the nobility of Heaven. To be a duke, a minister, or a great officer ; — this constitutes the nobility of man." 4 There is one passage very striking : — " For the mouth to desire tastes, the eye colours, the ear sounds, the nose odours, and the four limbs ease and rest : — these things are natural. But there is the appointment [of Heaven] in connexion with them ; and the superior man does not say [in his pursuit of them], 'It is my nature.' 1 See note to Sermon Third. 2 Bk VI. Pt I. xiv. 3 Ib., ch. xv. 4 lb., ch. xvi. [The exercise of] love between father and son, [the observance of] right eousness between ruler and minister, the rules of ceremony between host and guest, the [display of] knowledge in [recognizing] the able and virtuous, and [the fulfilling] the heavenly course by the sage : — these are appointed [by Heaven]. But there is [an adaptation of our] nature [for them] ; and the superior man does not say, [in reference to them.] ' There is a [limiting] appointment [of Heaven].' " '

From these paragraphs it is quite clear that what Mencius considei'ed as deserving properly to be called the nature of man, was not that by which he is a creature of appetites and passions, but that by which he is lifted up into the higher circle of intelligence and virtue. By the phrase, "the appointment of Heaven," most Chinese scholars under stand the will of Heaven, limiting in the first case the gratification of the appetites, and in the second the exercise of the virtues. To such limitation Mencius teaches there ought to be a cheerful submission so far as the appetites are concerned, but where the virtues are in question, we are to be striving after them notwithstanding adverse and op posing circumstances. THEY AEE OUR NATURE, what we were made for, what we have to do. I will refer but to one other specimen of his teaching on this subject. " The will," he said, using that term for the higher moral nature in activity, — "the will is the leader of the passion-nature. The pas sion-nature pervades and animates the body. The will is first and chief, and the passion-nature is subordinate to it." 2 My readers can now judge for themselves whether I ex aggerated at all in saying that Mencius' doctrine of human nature was, as nearly as possible, identical with that of Bishop Butler. Sir James Mackintosh has said of the ser mons to which I have made reference, and his other cognate discourses, that in them Butler " taught truths more capa ble of being exactly distinguished from the doctrines of his predecessors, more satisfactorily established by him, more comprehensively applied to particulars, more rationally connected with each other, and therefore more worthy of the name of discovery, than any with which we are acquaint ed ; if we ought not, with some hesitation, to except the first steps of the Grecian philosophers towards a Theory of Morals." 3 It is to be wished that the attention of this

1 Bk VII. Pt II. xxiv. 2 Bk II. Pt I. ii. 9. 3 Encyclopaedia Britaumca. Second Preliminary Dissertation ; on Butler. great scholar had been called to the writings of our philo sopher. Mencius was senior to Zeno, though a portion of their lives synchronized. Butler certainly was not indebted to him for the views which he advocated ; but it seems to me that Mencius had left him nothing to discover. But the question now arises — " Is the view of human na ture propounded by Mencius correct ? " So far as yet ap- The proper use pears, I see not how the question can be an- ^iews' thus 'far swered otherwise than in the affirmative. Man considered. was formad-for virtue. Be it that his contTucT is very far from being conformed to virtue, that simply fast ens on him the shame of guilt. Fallen as he may be, — fallen as I believe and know he is, — his nature still bears its testimony, when properly interrogated, against all unright eousness. Man, heathen man, a Gentile without the law, is still a law to himself. So the apostle Paul affirms ; and to no moral teacher of Greece or Rome can we appeal for so grand an illustration of the averment as we find in Mencius. I would ask those whom his sayings offend, whether it would have been better for his countrymen if he had taught a con trary doctrine, and told them that man's nature is bad, and that the more they obeyed all its lusts and passions, the more would they be in accordance with it, and the more pursuing the right path ? Such a question does not need a reply. The proper use of Mencius' principles is to reprove thejlhinese— arid ourselves as well— of the thousand acts of sin of which they and we are guilty, that come within their "sweep and "under their condemnation.

From the ideal of man to his actualism there is a vast de scent. Between what he ought to be and what he is, the HOW Mencius contrast is melancholy. "Benevolence," said admitted much Our philosopher. " is the characteristic of actual evil, and » i T • i • -i -< • i • i j i how he account- man. it is the wide house in which the world should dwell," while propriety is "the correct position in which the world should ever be found/' and righteousness is " the great path which men should ever be pursuing." a In opposition to this, however, hatred, im proprieties, unrighteousness, are constant phenomena of human life. We find men hateful and hating one another, •quenching the light that is in them, and walking in darkness _to perform all deeds of shame. " There is none that doeth 1 Bk VII. Ft II. xvi. 2 Bk III. Ft II. ii. 3. good ; no, not one." Mencius would have denied this last sentence, claiming that the sages should be excepted from it ; but he is ready enough to admit the fact that men in general do evil and violate the law of their nature. They sacrifice the noble portion of themselves for the gratification of the ignoble ; they follow that part which is little, and not that which is great. He can say nothing further in explan ation of the fact. He points out indeed the effect of injuri ous circumstances, and the power of evil example; and he has said several things on these subjects worthy of notice : —

" It is not to be wondered at that the king is not wise ! Suppose the case of the most easily growing thing in the world : — if you let it have one day's genial heat, and then expose it for ten days to cold, it will not be able to grow. It is but seldom that I have an audience of the king, and when I retire, there come all those who act upon him like the cold. Though I succeed in bringing out some buds of goodness, of what avail is it?"' " In good years the children of the people are most of them good, while in bad years the most of them abandon themselves to evil. It is not owing to their natural powers conferred on them by Heaven that they are thus different : — the abandonment is owing to the circumstances through which they allow their minds to be ensnared and drowned in evil. There now is barley : — let it be sown and covered up ; the ground being the same, and the time of sowing likewise the same, it grows rapidly up, and when the full time is come, it is all found to be ripe. Although there may be inequalities [of produce], that is owing to [the difference of] the soil as rich or poor, the unequal nourishment afford ed by the rains and dews, and to the different ways in which man has per formed his business." 2

The inconsistencies in human conduct did not escape his observation. After showing that there is that in human na ture which will sometimes make men part with life sooner than with righteousness, he goes on : — " And yet a man will accept of ten thousand chung without any consideration of propriety and righteousness. What can they add to him ? When he takes them, is it not that he may obtain beautiful mansions, that he may secure the services of wives and con cubines, or that the poor and needy may be helped by him ? " The scalpel is used here with a bold and skilful hand. The lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life are laid bare, nor does he stop till he has exposed the subtle workings of the delusion that the end may sanctify the means, that evil may be wrought that good may come. He pursues : — " In the former case the offered bounty was 1 Bk VI. Pt I. ix. 2 Ib. ch. vii. not received though it would have saved from death, and now the emolument is taken for the sake of beautiful mansions The bounty that would have preserved from death was not received, and the emolument is taken to get the services of wives and concubines. The bounty that would have saved from death was not received, and the emolument is taken that one's poor and needy acquaintance may be helped. Was it then not possible likewise to decline this ? This is a case of what is called — ' Losing the proper nature of one's mind.; " l

To the principle implied in the concluding sentences of this quotation Mencius most pertinaciously adheres. He original bad- will not allow that original badness can be pre- pmiicatTd^m dicated of human nature from any amount of actual evil. actual wickedness. " The trees." said he, " of the New mountain were once beautiful. Being situated, however, in the suburbs of [the capital of] a large State, they were hewn down with axes and bills : — and could they retain their beauty 2 Still, through the growth from the vegetative life day and night, and the nourishing influence of the rain and dew, they were not without buds and sprouts springing forth ; — but then came the cattle and goats, and browsed xipon them. To these things is owing the bare and stript appearance [of the mountain], and when people see this they think it was never finely wooded. But is this the proper nature of the mountain ? And so even of what properly belongs to man: — shall it be said that the mind [of any man] was without benevolence and righteousness ? The wcy in which a man loses his proper goodness of mind is like the Avay in which those trees were denuded by axes and bills. Hewn down day after day, can the mind retain its excellence ? But there is some growth of its life day and night, and in the [calm] air of the morning, just between night and day, the mind feels in a degree the desires and aversions which are proper to humanity ; but the feeling is not strong, and then it is fettered and destroyed by what the man does during the day. This fettering takes place again and again ; the restorative influence of the night is not sufficient to preserve [the proper goodness of the mind] ; and when this proves insufficient for that purpose, the nature becomes not much different from that of the irra tional animals, and when people see this, they think that it never had those powers [which I assert]. But does this condition represent the feelings proper to humanity ? " 2

Up to this point I fail to perceive anything in Mencius' view of human nature that is contrary to the teachings of our Christian Scriptures, and that may not be employed with advantage by the missionary in preaching the Gospel to the 1 Bk VI. Pt I. xii. 7, 8. 2 Bk VI. Pt I. ch. viii. 1, 2. Chinese. It is far from covering what we know to be the whole duty of man, yet it is defective rather than erroneous. Deferring any consideration of this for a brief space, I now inquire whether Mencius, having an ideal of the goodness of human nature, held also that it had been and could be realized ? The answer is that he did. Hie The actual actual realization he found in the sages, and perfection of < Le_3mrtett4ed that it was within the reach of possible perfecevery individual. tion of alL " All things which are the same in kind," he says, " are like one another ; — why should we doubt in regard to man, as if he were a solitary exception to this ? The sage and we are the same in kind. The feet, the mouths, the eyes of the sages were not different from those of other people, neither were their minds." ' " Is it so," lie was once asked, "that all men may be Yaous and Shuns ? " and he answered, " It is," adding by way of explana tion : — " To walk slowly, keeping behind his elders, is to perform the part of a younger brother, and to walk quickly and precede his elders is to violate that duty. Now, is it what a man cannot do, — to walk slowly ? IT is WHAT HE DOES NOT DO. The course of Taou and Shun was simply that of filial piety and fraternal duty. Do you wear the clothes of Yaou, repeat the words of Yaou, and do the actions of Yaou ; — and you will just be a Yaou." 2

Among the sages, however, Mencius made a distinction. Yaou and Shun exceeded all the rest, unless it might be Confucius. Those three never came short of, never went be yond, the law of their nature. The ideal and the actual were in them always one and the same. The others had only attained to perfection by vigorous effort and culture. Twice at least he has told us this. " Yaou and Shun were what they were by nature ; T'ang and Woo were so by re turning [to natural virtue] .•" 3 The actual result, however, was the same, and therefore he could hold them all up as models to his countrymen of the style of man that they ought to be and might be. What the compass and square were in the hands of the workman, enabling him to form perfect circles and squares, that the sages, " perfectly ex hibiting the human relations," might be to every earnest individual, enabling him to perfect himself as they were perfect. * Here we feel that the doctrine of Mencius wants an ele ment which Revelation supplies. He knows nothing of the 1 Bk VI. Ft I. ch. vii. 3. 2 II. Pt II. ii. 1, 4, 5.

1 Bk VII. Pt I. xxx. 1 ; Pt II. xxxiii. 1. 4 Bk IV. Pt I. ii. 1. Mencius' doc- fact that " by one man sin entered into the ^oTcknowhTdV world, and death by sin ; and so death passed " vers-vi°froue "*"' (passe(^ ori) extended, biijXOtv) " to all men, to evil, ins " because all sinned." We have our ideal as realized by 6I well as he ; but for the living reality of it we g° back to Adam,, as he was made by a11- God in His own image, after His likeness. In him the model is soon shattered, and we do not discover it again, till God's own Son appears in the world, made in the likeness of sinful flesh, yet without sin. While He died for our transgressions, He left us also an example, that we should walk in His steps ; and as we do so, we are carried on to glory and virtue. At the same time we find a law in our members warring against the law in our minds, and bringing us into captivity to sin. However we may strive after our ideal, we do not succeed in reaching it. The more we grow in the knowledge of Christ, and see in Him the glory of humanity in its true estate, the greater do we feel our own distance to be from it, and that of ourselves we cannot attain to it. There is something wrong about us ; we need help from without in order to become even what our nature, apart from Revelation, tells us we ought to be.

When Mencius therefore points us to Yaou, IShun, and Confucius, and says that they were perfect, we cannot accept his statement. Understanding that he is speaking of them only in the sphere of human relations, we must yet believe that in many things they came short. One of them, the greatest of the three in Mencius' estimation, Confucius, again and again confesses so of himself. He was seventy years old, he says, before he could follow what his heart desired without transgressing what was right.1 It might have been possible to convince the sage that he was under a delusion in this important matter even at that advanced age ; but what his language allows is sufficient to upset Meiicius' appeal to him. The image of sagely perfection is broken by it. It proves to be but a brilliant and unsub stantial phantasm of our philosopher's own imagining. When he insists again, that every individual may become what he fancies that the sages were, — i.e., p erf eci, -living in love, walking in righteousness, observant of propriety, approving whatsoever is good, and disapproving whatever is 1 Coii. Ana., II. iv. G. evil,— he is pushing1 his doctrine beyond its proper limits ; he ia iifSTung a use of it of which it is not capable. It supplies a law of conduct, and I have set it forth as entitled to our highest admiration for the manner in which it does so ; but law only gives the knowledge of what we are required to do : — it does not give the power to do it. We have seen how when it was necessary to explain accurately his statement that the nature of man is good, Mencius defined it as meaning that " it is constituted for the practice of that which is good." Because it is so constituted, it follows that every man ought to practise what is good. But some disorganization may have happened to the nature ; some sad change may have come over it. The very fact that man has, in Mencius' own words, to recover his " lost mind," l shows that the object of the constitution of the nature has not been realized. Whether he can recover it or not, therefore, is a question altogether different from that of its proper design.

In one place, indeed, Mencius has said that "'.the great man is he who does not lose his child's-heart." 2 I can only suppose" that, by that expression — "the child' s-heart," he intends the ideal goodness which he affirms of our nature. But to attribute that to the child as actually existing in it is absurd. It has neither done good nor evil. It possesses the capacity for either. It will by and by awake to the consciousness that it ought to follow after the one, and eschew the other ; but when it does so, — I should rather say when he does so, for the child has now emerged from a mere creature existence, and assumed the functions of a moral being, he will find that he has already given himself to inordinate affection for the objects of sense ; and in the pursuit of gratification he is reckless of what must be acknowledged to be the better and nobler part, reckless also of the interest and claims of others, and whenever thwarted glows into passion and fury. The youth is more pliant than the man in whom the dominion of self-seeking has become ingrained as a habit ; but no sooner does he become a sub ject of law, than he is aware of the fact, that when he would do good, evil is present with him. The boy has to go in search of his ' ' lost heart," as truly as the man of fourscore. Even in him there is an " old man, corrupt according to the deceitful lusts," which he has to put off.

1 Bk VI. Pt I. xi. 4. ^ z Bk IV. Pt II. xii. Butler had an immense advantage over Mencius, arising from his knowledge of the truths of Revelation. Many, adButier-s ad- miring his sermons, have yet expressed a meaMencms, and sure of dissatisfaction, because he does not in makchtehe°s(aSIne0t them make explicit reference to the condition application of of man as fallen and depraved. That ho fully their common . J principles. admitted the tact we know. He says elsewhere : — " Mankind are represented in Scripture to be in a state of ruin ; " " If mankind are corrupted and depraved in their moral character, and so are unfit for that state which Christ is gone to prepare for his disciples ; and if the assistance of God's Spirit be necessary to renew their nature, in the de gree requisite to their being qualified for that state ; all which is implied in the express, though figurative declara tion, Except a man he lorn of the Spirit, lie cannot see the kingdom of God." . . . .l How is it, then, that there is no mention of this in the sermons ? Dissatisfaction, I have said, has been expressed on account of this silence, and it would have taken the form of more pointed utterance, and more decided condemnation, but for the awe of his great name, and the general appreciation of the service he ren dered to Christianity in his work on The Analogy of Religion to the Course of Nature. But, in truth, dissatisfaction at all is out of place. Butler wrote his sermons as he wrote his Analogy, in consequence of the peculiar necessity of his times. More particulai'ly against tlobbes, denying* all moral sentiments and social affections, and making a regard to per sonal advantage the only motive of human action, it was his business to prove that man's nature is of a very different constitution, comprehending disinterested affections, and above all the supreme element of conscience, which, "had it strength as it has right, would govern the world/' He proves this, and so accomplishes his work. He had merely to do with the ideal of humanity. It did not belong to him to dwell on the actual feebleness of man to perform what is good. He might have added a few paragraphs to this effect; but it was not the character of his mind to go beyond the task which he had set himself. What is of importance to be ob served here is, that he does not make the application of their common principles which Mencius does. He knows of no perfect men ; he does not tell his readers that they have 1 The Analogy of Religion ; Part II. chap. I.

merely to set about following their nature, and, without any aid from without, they will surely and easily go on to perfection. Mencius is not to be blamed for his ignorance of what is to us the Doctrine of the Fall. He had no means of becoming acquainted with it. We have to regret, however, that his study of human nature produced in him no deep Mencius' lack1'eclinq on account of men's proneness to go ing in humility 9 TT , ,> and sympathy astray. He never betrays any consciousness ot with human his own weakness. In this respect he is again inferior to Confucius, and far from being, as I have said of him in another aspect of his character, "more admirable" than he. In the former volume I have shown that we may sometimes recognize in what the sage says of himself the ex pressions of a genuine humility. He acknowledges that he comes short of what he knows he ought to be. We do not meet with this in Mencius. His merit is that of the specu lative thinker. His glance is searching and his penetration deep ; but there is wanting that moral sensibility which would draw us to him, in our best moments, as a man of like passions with ourselves. The absence of humility is naturally accom panied with a lack of sympathy. There is a hardness about his teachings. He is the professor, performing an operation in the class-room, amid a throng of pupils who are admiring his science and dexterity, and who forgets in the triumph of his skill the suffering of the patient. The transgressors of their nature are to Mencius the "tyrants of themselves/'' or " the self-abandoned." The utmost stretch of his commi seration is a contemptuous "Alas for them I"1 The radical defect of the orthodox moral school of China, that there only needs a knowledge of duty to insure its performance, is in him exceedingly apparent. Confucius, Tsze-sze, and Mencius most strangely never thought of calling this principle in ques tion. It is always as in the formula of Tsze-sze: — "Given the sincerity, and there shall be the intelligence; given the intelligence, and there shall be the sincerity."

I said above that Mencius' doctrine of human nature was defective, inasmuch as even his ideal does not cover the whole field of duty. He says very little of what we owe to God. There is no glow of natural piety in Mencius' ideal 1- T -i p 1 1 /-^ ^ j_ • of human nature his pages. Instead ot the name Grorf, contain- does not embrace ing in itself a recognition of the divine person- 1 Bk IV. Ft I. x. ality and supremacy, we hear from him more commonly, as from Confucius, of Heaven. Butler has said : — " By the love of God, I would understand all those regards, all those affections of mind, which are due immediately to Him from such a creature as man, and which rest in Him as their end." 1 Of such affections Mencius knows nothing. In one place he speaks of " delighting in Heaven," 2 but he is speaking, when he does so, of the sovereign who with a great State serves a small one, and the delight is seen in certain condescensions to the weak and unworthy. Never once, where he is treating of the nature of man, does he make mention of any exercise of the mind as due directly to God. The services of religion come in China under the principle of propriety, and are only a cold formalism ; but, even here, other things come with Mencius before them. We are told : — ' ' The richest fruit of love is this, — the service of one's parents ; the richest fruit of righteousness is this, — the obeying one's elder brothers ; the richest fruit of wisdom is this, — the knowing those two things, and not departing from them ; the richest fruit of propriety is this, — the ordering and adorning those two things." 3 How dif ferent is this from the reiterated declaration of the Scrip tures, that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom ! " The first and great commandment, " Thou shalt love the Lord, thy God, with all thy heart and soul and mind and strength," was never thought of, much less delivered, by any Chinese philosopher or sage. Had Mencius appre hended this, and seen how all our duties to our fellow-men are to be performed as to God, he could not have thought so highly as he did of man's powers; a suspicion might have grown up that there is a shadow on the light which he has in himself.

This absence of the recognition of man's highest obliga tions from Mencius' ideal of our nature is itself a striking 1 First Sermon Upon the Love of God. 2 P,k I. Ft IF. ii. 3. 3 Bk IV. Ft 1. xxvii. My friend, the Rev. Mr Moule, of Ningpo, has supplied me with the following interesting coincidence with the sentiments of Mencius in this passage, from one of the letters of Charles Lamb to Coleridge, dated Nov. 14th, 1796 : — " Oh, my friend, cultivate the filial feel ings ; and let no one think himself relieved from the kind charities of rela tionship ; these shall give him peace at the last ; these are the best founda tion for every species of benevolence •." illustration of man's estrangement from God. His talking of Heaven has combined with the similar practice of his master to prepare the way for the grosser conceptions of the modern literati, who would often seem to deny the divine personality altogether, and substitute for both God and Heaven a mere principle of order or fitness of things. It has done more : it has left the people in the mass to become an easy prey to the idolatrous fooleries of Buddhism. Yea, the unreliyiousness of the teachers has helped to deprave still more the religion of the nation, such as it is, and makes its services a miserable pageant of irreverent forms. It is time to have done with this portion of my theme. It may be thought that I have done Mencius more than justice in the first part of my remarks, and less than justice at the last ; but I hope it is not so. A very important use is to be made both of what he succeeds in, and where he fails, in his discoursing upon human nature. His principles may be, and, I conceive, ought to be, turned against him self. They should be pressed to produce the conviction of sin. There is enough in them, if the conscience be but quickened by the Spirit of God, to make the haughtiestscholar cry out, " 0 wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from this body of death ? " Then may it be said to him with effect, " Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world ! " Then may Christ, as a new and true exemplar of all that man should be, be dis played, " altogether lovely," to the trembling mind ! Then may a new heart be received from Him, that shall thrill in the acknowledgment of the claims both of men and God, and girding up the loins of the mind, address itself to walk in all His commandments and ordinances blameless ! One thing should be plain. In Mencius' lessons on human duty there is no hope for his countrymen. If they serve as a schoolmaster to bring them to Christ, they will have done their part ; but it is from Christ alone that the help of the Chinese can come.

7. Besides giving more explicit expression to the doctrine of the goodness of man's nature than had been done before him, Mencius has the credit also of calling attention to the nourishment of the passion-nature. It may be questioned whether I translate his language exactly by this phrase. What I render the passion-nature, Julien renders by " vitalis spiritus." The philosopher says himself that it is difficult to describe what he intends. Attempting such a descrip tion, he says : — ' ' This is it : — It is exceedingly great and exceedingly strong. Being nourished by rectitude,, and sustaining no injury, it fills up all between heaven and earth. This is it : — It is the mate and assistant of righte ousness and reason. Without it man is in a state of starva tion. It is produced by the accumulation of righteous deeds ; it is not to be taken, as by surprise, by incidental acts of righteousness. If the mind does not feel com placency in the conduct, tlu'x is starved."1 From such pre dicates we may be sure that it is not anything merely or entirely physical of which he is speaking. " The righteous," said Solomon, " are bold as a lion." The Hebrew saying is very much in Mencius' style. That boldness is the result of the nourishment for which he thought he had a peculiar aptitude. Strong in it and in a knowledge of words, a faculty of discovering the moral aberrations of others from their forms of speech, he was able to boast of possessing "an unperturbed mind;" he could "sit in the centre" of his being, " and enjoy bright day," whatever clouds and storms gathered around him.

The nourishment, therefore, of " the passion-nature," " the vital spirit," or whatever name we choose to give to the subject, is only an effect of general good-doing. This is the practical lesson from all Mencius' high-sounding words. He has illustrated it amusingly : — " There was a man of Sung, who was grieved that his growing corn was not longer, and pulled it up. Having done this, he returned home, looking very wearied, and said to his people, ' I am tired to-day. I have heen help ing the corn to grow long.' His son ran to look at it, and found the corn all withered. There are few in the world, who do not assist the corn [of their passion-nature] to grow long. Some consider it of no benefit to them, and let it alone : — they do not weed their corn. Those who assist it to grow long, pull out their corn. What they do is not only of no benefit to the nature, but it also injures it." a This portion of Mencius' teaching need not detain us. He has put a simple truth in a striking way. That is his merit. It hardly seems of sufficient importance to justify the use which has been made of it in vindicating a place for him among the sages of his country.

1 Bk II. Pt I. ii. 13—15. - Bk II. Pt I. ii. 16. 8. I said I should end the discussion of Mencius' opin ions by pointing out what I conceive to be his chief defects as a moral and political teacher. His defects, however, in the former respect have been already not lightly touched on. So far as they were the consequence of his ignorance, without the light which Revelation sheds on the whole field of human duty, and the sanctions, which it discloses, of a future state of retribution, I do not advance any charge against his character. That he never indicates any wish to penetrate into futurity, and ascertain what comes after death ; that he never indicates any consciousness of human weak ness, nor moves his mind Godward, longing for more light : — these are things which exhibit strongly the contrast between the mind of the East and the West. His selfsufficiency is his great fault. To know ourselves is com monly supposed to be an important step to humility ; but it is not so with him. He has spoken remarkably about the effects of calamity and difficulties. He says: — "When Heaven is about to confer a great office on a man, it first exercises his mind with suffering, and his sinews and bones with toil ; it exposes his body to hunger, and subjects him to extreme poverty ; it confounds his undertakings. By all these methods it stimulates his mind, hardens his nature, and supplies his incompetencies." 1 Such have been the effects of Heaven's exercising some men with calamities ; but if the issue has been a fitting for the highest offices, there has been a softening of the nature rather than a hardening of it. Mencius was a stranger to tho humbling of the lofty looks of man, and the bowing down his haughti ness, that the Lord alone may be exalted.

His faults as a political teacher are substantially the same as those of Confucius. More than was the case with his Mayings of a political character, the utterances of Mencius have reference to the condition and needs of his own age. They were for the time then being, and not for all time. He knew as little as Confucius of any other great and inde pendent nation besides his own ; and he has left one maxim which is deeply treasured by the rulers and the people of China at the present day, and feeds the supercilious idea which they are so unwilling to give up of their own superi ority to foreigners. " I have heard," said he, " of men 1 Bk VI. Ft II. xv. using [the doctrines of] our great land to change bar barians, but I have never yet heard of any being changed by barbarians." " I have heard of birds leaving dark valleys to remove to lofty trees, but I have not heard of their descending from lofty trees to enter into dark val leys." 1 Mongol and Tartar sway has not broken the charm of this dangerous flattery, because only in warlike energy were the Mongols and Tartars superior to the Chinese, and when they conquered the country they did homage to its sages. During the last four-and-thirty years, Christian Powers have come to ask admission into China, and to claim to be received as her equals. They do not wish to conquer her territory, though they have battered and broken her defences. With fear and trembling their advances are contemplated. The feeling of dislike to them arises from the dread of their power, and suspicion of their faith. It is feared that they come to subdue ; it is known that they come to change. The idol of Chinese superiority is about to be broken. Broken it must be ere long, and a new generation of thinkers will arise, to whom Mencius will be a study but riot a guide.

1 Bk III. Pt I. iv. 12, 15. I HAVE thought it would be interesting to many readers to append here the Essays of two distinguished scholars of China on the subject of Human Nature. The one is in di rect opposition to Mencius' doctrine ; according to the other, his doctrine is insufficient to explain the phenomena. The author of the first, Seun K'ing, was not much posterior to Mencius. He is mentioned as in office under king Seang of Tsfe (B.C. 271-264), and he lived on to the times of the Ts'in dynasty. His Works which still remain form a con siderable volume. The second essay is from the work of Han Yu, mentioned above, Ch. I. Sect. IV. 3. I shall not occupy any space with criticisms on the style or sentiments of the writers. If the translation appear at times to be in elegant or obscure, the fault is perhaps as much in the original as in myself. A comprehensive and able sketch of " The Ethics of the Chinese, with special reference to the Doctrines of Human Nature and Sin/' by the Rev. Griffith John, was read before the North- China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, in November, 1859, and has been published separately. The essays of Seun and Han are both reviewed in it.

r s \ f THE nature of man is evil ; the good~^nich it shows is factitious. There belongs to it, even .at_ his birth, the love of gain, and as actions are in accordance with this, conten tions and robberies grow up, and self-denial and yielding to others are not to be found ; there belong to it envy and dis like, and as actions are in accordance with these, violence and injuries spring up, and self-devotedness and faith are not to be found; there belong to it the desires of the ears and the eyes, leading to the love of sounds and beauty, and as the actions are in accordance with these, lewdness and disorder spring up, and righteousness and propriety, with their various orderly displays, are not to be found. It thus appears, that the following man's nature and yielding obedi ence to its feelings will assuredly conduct to contentions and robberies, to. the violation of the duties belonging to every one's lot, and the confounding of all distinctions, till the issue will be in a state of savagism ; and that there must be the influence of teachers and laws, and the guidance of propriety and righteousness, from which will spring selfdenial, yielding to others, and an observance of the wellordered regulations of conduct, till the issue will be in a state of good government. — From all this, it is plain that the nature of man is evil ; the good which it shows is fac titious.

To illustrate. — A crooked stick must be submitted to the pi'essing-frame, to soften and bend it, and then it becomes straight ; a blunt knife must be submitted to the grindstone and whetstone, and then it becomes sharp ; so, the nature of man, being evil, must be submitted to teachers and laws, and then it becomes correct; ijbjmust be submitted to propriety and righteousness, and then it comes under government. If men were without teachers and laws, their condition would be one of deflection and insecurity, entirely incorrect ; if they were without propriety and righteousness, their con dition would be one of rebellious disorder, rejecting all government. The sage kings of antiquity understanding that the nature of man was thus evil, in a state of hazardous deflection, and incorrect, rebellious and disorderly, and refus ing to be governed, they set up the principles of righteous ness and propriety, and framed laws and regulations to straighten and ornament the feelings of that nature and cor- rect them, to tame and change those same feelings and guide them, so that they might all go forth in the way of moral government and in agreement with reason. Now, the man who is transformed by teachers and laws, gathers on himself the ornament of learning, and proceeds in the path of pro-

prietj_and_nigliteousness, is a superior man; and he who gives the reins to his nature and its feelings, indulges its resentments, and walks contrary to propriety and righteous ness,, is a mean man. Looking at the subject in this way, we see clearly that the nature of man is evil ; the good which it shows is factitious" Mencius said, " Man has only to learn, and his nature becomes good ; " but I reply, — It is not so. To say so shows that he had not attained to the knowledge of man's nature, nor examined into the difference between what is natural in man and what is factitious. The natural is what the constitution spontaneously moves to : — it needs not to be learned, it needs not to be followed hard after ; propriety and righteousness are what the sages have given birth to : — it is by learning that men become capable of them, it is by hard prac tice that they achieve them. TJiat which is in man, not need ing, to be learned and striven after, is what I call natural ; that in man which is attained to by learning, and achieved hard striving, is what I call factitious. This is the distinc tion between those two. By the nature of man, the eyes are capable of seeing, and the ears are capable of hearing. But the power of seeing is inseparable from the eyes, and the power of hearing is inseparable from the ears; — it is plain that the faculties of seeing and hearing do not need to be learned. Mencius says, " The nature of man is good, but all Idse and ruin their nature, and therefore it becomes bad;" but I say that this representation is erroneous. Man being born with his nature, when he thereafter departs from its simple constituent elements, he must lose it. From tn"nr~"consideration we may see clearly that man's nature is evil. What might be called the nature's being good would be-4f there were no departing from its simplicity to beautify it, no departing from its elementary dispositions to sharpen it. Suppose that those simple elements no more needed beautifying, and the mind's thoughts no more needed to be turned to good, than the power of vision which is in separable from the eyes, and the power of hearing which is inseparable from the ears, need to be learned, [then we might say that the nature is good, just as] we say that the eyes see and the ears hear. It is the nature of man, when hungry, to desire to be filled ; when cold, to desire to be warmed ; when tired, to desire rest : — these are the feelings

and nature of man. But now, a man is hungry, and in the presence of an elder he does not dare to eat before him, — he is yielding to that elder ; he is tired with labour, and he does not dare to ask for rest, — he is working for some one. A son's yielding to his father and a younger brother to his elder, a son's labouring for his father and a younger brother for his elder, — these two instances of conduct are contrary to the nature and against the feelings ; but they are accord ing to the course laid down for a filial son, and the refined distinctions of propriety and righteousness. It appears that if there were an accordance with the feelings and the nature, there would be no self-denial and yielding to others. Self-denial and yielding to others are contrary to the feelings and the nature. In this way we come to see how clear it is that the nature of man is evil ; the good which it shows is factitious. An inquirer will ask, " If man's nature be evil, whence do propriety and righteousness arise ? " I reply, — All pro priety and righteousness are the artificial production of the sages, and are not to be considered as growing out of the nature of man. It is just as when a potter makes a vessel from the clay; — the vessel is the product of the workman's art, and is not be considered as growing out of his nature. Or it is as when another workman cuts and hews a vessel out of wood; — it is the product of his art, and is not to be considered as growing out of his nature. The sages pon dered long in thought and gave themselves to practice, and so they succeeded in producing propriety and righteousness, and setting up laws and regulations. Thus it is that pro priety and righteousness, laws and regulations, are the arti ficial product of the sages, and are not to be considered as growing properly from the nature of man.

If we speak of the fondness of the eyes for beauty, or of the mouth for [pleasant] flavours, or of the mind for gain, or of the bones and skin for the enjoyment of ease ; — all these grow out of the natural feelings of man. The object is presented and the desire is felt ; there needs no effort to produce it. But when the object is presented, and the affection does not move till after hard effort, I say that this effect is factitious. Those cases prove the difference be tween what is produced by nature and what is produced by art. Thus the sages transformed their nature, and commenced their artificial work. Having commenced this work with their nature, they produced propriety and righteousness. When propriety and righteousness were produced, they proceeded to frame laws and regulations. It appears, therefore, that propriety and righteousness, laws and regu lations, were given birth to by the sages. Wherein they agree with all other men and do not differ from them, is their nature ; wherein they differ from and exceed other men, is this artificial work. Now to love gain and desire to get ; — this is the .natural feeling of men. Suppose the case that there is an amount of property or money to be divided among brothers, and let this natural feeling to love gain and desire to get come into play ; — why, then the brothers will be opposing, and snatch ing from one another. But where the changing influence of propriety and righteousness, with their refined distinctions, has taken effect, a man will give up to any other man. Thus it is that if they act in accordance with their natural feelings, brothers will quarrel together ; and if they have come under the transforming influence of propriety and right eousness, men will give up to other men, to say nothing of brothers. [Again], the fact that men WISH to do what is good, is because their nature is bad. The thin wishes to be thick; the "ugly wishes to bo beautiful ; the narrow wishes to be wide ; the poor wish to be rich ; the mean wish to be noble : — when anything is not possessed in one's self, he seeks for it outside himself. But the rich do not wish for wealth ; the noble do not wish for position : — when anything is possessed by one's self, he does not need to go beyond himself for it. When we look at things in this way, we perceive that the fact of men's WISHING to do what is good is because their nature is evil. It is the case, indeed, that man's nature is without propriety and benevolence : — he therefore studies them with vigorous effort and seeks to have them. It is the case that by nature he does not know propriety and right eousness : — he therefore thinks and reflects and seeks to know them. Speaking of man, therefore, as he is by birth simply, he is without propriety and righteousness, without the knowledge of propriety and righteousness. Without propriety and righteousness, man must be all confusion and disorder ; without the knowledge of propriety and righteousVOL. n. 6

ness, there must ensue all the manifestations of disorder. Man, as he is born, therefore, has in him nothing but the elements of disorder, passive and active. It is plain from this contemplation of the subject that the nature of man is evil ; the good which it shows is factitious. When Mencius says that " Man's nature is good," I affirm that it is not so. In ancient times and now throughout the empire, what is meant by good is a condition of correct ness, regulation, and happy government ; and what is meant by evil, is a condition of deflection, insecurity, and refusing to be under government : — in this lies the distinction be tween being good and being evil. And now, jf man's nature be really so correct, regulated, and happily governed in itself, where would be the use for sage kings? where would be the use for propriety and righteousness ? Although there were the sage kings, propriety, and righteousness, what could they add to the nature so correct, regulated, and happily ruled in itself ? But it is not so; the nature of man is bad. It was on this account, that anciently the sag-e kings, under standing that man's nature was bad, in a state of deflection and insecurity instead of being correct, in a state of rebellious disorder instead of one of happy rule, set up therefore the ma jesty of princes and governors to awe it ; and set forth propriety and righteousness to change it; and framed laws and statutes of correctness to rule it ; and devised severe punishments to restrain it : — so that its outgoings might be under the dominion of rule, and in accordance with what is good. This is [the true account of] the governance of the sage kings, and the transforming power of propriety and right eousness. Let us suppose a state of things in which there shall be no majesty of princes and governors, no influence of propriety and righteousness, no rule of laws and statutes, no restraints of punishment : — what would be the relations of men with one another, all under heaven ? The strong would be injuring the weak, and spoiling them ; the many would be tyrannizing over the few, and hooting them ; a uni versal disorder and mutual destruction would speedily ensue. When we look at the subject in this way, we see clearly that the nature of man is evil ; the good which it shows is factitious.

He who would speak well of ancient times must have cer tain references in the present ; he who would speak well of Heaven must substantiate what he says out of man. In dis course and argument it is an excellent quality when the divisions which are made can be brought together like the halves of a token. When it is so, the arguer may sit down, and discourse of his principles ; and he has only to rise up, and they may be set forth and displayed and carried into action. When Mencius says that the nature of man is good, there is no bringing together in the above manner of his divisions. He sits down and talks, but there is no getting up to display and set forth his principles, and put them in operation : — is not his error very gross ? To say that the nature is good does away with the sage kings, and makes an end of propriety and righteousness ; to say that the nature is bad exalts the sage kings, and dignifies propriety and right eousness. As the origin of the pressing-boards is to be found in the crooked wood, and the origin of the carpenter's marking line is to be found in things' not being straight ; so the rise of princes and governors, and the illustration of propriety and righteousness, are to be traced to the badness of the nature. It is clear from this view of the subject that the nature of man is bad ; the good which it shows is fac titious.

A straight piece of wood does not need the pressingboards to make it straight ; — it is so by its nature. A crooked piece of wood must be submitted to the pressingboards to soften and straighten it, and then it is straight ; — it is not straight by its nature. So it is that the nature of man, being evil, must be submitted to the rule of the sage kings, and to the transforming influence of propriety and righteousness, and then its outgoings are under the domin ion of rule, and in accordance with what is good. This shows clearly that the nature of man is bad; the good which it shows is factitious. An inquirer may say [again], " Propriety and righteousness, though seen in an accumulation of factitious deeds, do yet belong to the nature of man ; and thus it was that the sages were able to produce them." I reply, — It is not so. A potter takes a piece of clay, and produces a dish from it ; but are that dish and clay the nature of the potter ? A carpenter plies his tools upon a piece of wood, and produces a vessel ; but are that vessel and wood the nature of the carpenter ? So it is with the sages and propriety and righteousness ; they pro-

duced them, just as the potter works with the clay. It is plain that there is no reason for saying that propriety and right eousness, and the accumulation of their factitious actions, belong to the proper nature of man. Speaking of the nature of man, it is the same in all, — the same in Yaou and Shun, and in Ke'eh and in the robber Chih, the same in the superior man and in the mean man. If you say that propriety and righteousness, with the factitious actions accumulated from them, are the nature of man, on what ground do you pro ceed to ennoble Yaou and Yu, to ennoble [generally] the superior man ? The ground on which we ennoble Yaou, Yu, and the superior man, is their ability to change the nature, and to produce factitious conduct. That factitious conduct being produced, out of it there are brought pro priety and righteousness. The sages stand indeed in the same relation to propriety and righteousness, and the facti tious conduct resulting from them, as the potter does to his clay : — we have a product in either case. This representa tion makes it clear that propriety and righteousness, with their factitious results, do not properly belong to the nature of man. [On the other hand], that which we consider mean in Ke'eh, the robber Chih, and the mean man generally, is that they follow their nature, act in accordance with its feel ings, and indulge its resentments, till all its outgoings are a greed of gain, contentions, and rapine.— It is plain that the nature of man is bad ; the good which it shows is factitious.

Heaven did not make favourites of Tsang, Kfeen, and Heaou-ke, and deal unkindly with the rest of men. How then was it that they alone were distinguished by the greatness of their filial deeds, that all which the name of filial piety implies was complete in them ? The reason was that they were subject to the restraints of propriety and righteous ness. Heaven did not make favourites of the people of Tsfe and Loo, and deal unkindly with the people of TVin. How then was it that the latter were not equal to the former in the rich manifestation of the filial piety belonging to the righteousness of the -relation between father and son, and the respectful observance of the proprieties belonging to the separate functions of husband and wife ? The reason was that the people of Ts'in followed the feelings of their nature, indulged its resentments, and contemned propriety and righteousness. We are not to suppose that they were different in their nature. What is the meaning of the saying, that " Any traveller on the road may become like Yu ? " I answer, — All that made Yu what he was was his practice of benevolence, righteousness, and his observance of laws and rectitude. But benevolence, righteousness, laws, and rectitude, are all capable of being known and being practised. Moreover, any traveller on the road has the capacity of knowing these, and the ability to practise them : — it is plain that he may become like Yu. If you say that benevolence, righteous ness, laws, and rectitude, are not capable of being known and practised, then Yu himself could not have known, could not have practised them. If you will have it that any tra veller on the road is really without the capacity of knowing these things, and the ability to practisfe them, then, in his home/ it will not be competent for him to know the righteousness that should rule between father and son, and, abroad, it will not be competent for him to know the recti tude that should rule between ruler and minister. But it is not so. There is no one who travels along the road but may know both that righteousness and that rectitude : — it is plain that the capacity to know and the ability to practise belong to every traveller on the way. Let him, therefore, with his capacity of knowing and ability to practise, take his ground on the knowableness and practicableness of benevolence and righteousness ; — and it is clear that he may become like Yu. Yea, let any traveller on the /way addict himself to the art of learning with all his heart and the entire bent of his will, thinking, searching, and closely examining ; — let him do this day after day, through a long space of time, accumulating what is good, and he will pene trate as far as a spiritual Intelligence, he will become a tei'nion with Heaven and Earth. It follows that [the charac ters of] the sages were what any man may reach by accumu lation.

It may be said : — " To be sage may thus be reached by accumulation; — why is it that all men cannot accumulate [to this extent ? ] " I reply, — They may do so, but they cannot be made to do so. The mean man might become a superior man, but he is not willing to be a superior man. The supe- rior man might become a mean man, but he is not willing to be a mean man. It is not that the mean man and the supe rior man may not become the one the other ; their not be coming the one the Other is because it is a thing which may be, but cannot be made to be. Any traveller on the road may become like Yu : — the case is so ; that any traveller on the road can really become like Yu : — this is not a necessary conclusion. Though any one, however, cannot really become like Yu, that is not contrary at all to the truth that ho may become so. One's feet might travel all over the world, but there never was one who was really able to travel all over the world. There is nothing to prevent the mechanic, the farmer, and the merchant, from practising each the business of the others, but there has never been a case when it has really been done. Looking at the subject in this way, wo see that what may be need not really be ; and although it shall not really be, that is not contrary to the truth that it might be. It thus appears that the difference is wide be tween what is really done or not really done, and what may be or may not be. It is plain that these two cases may not become the one the other.

Yaou asked Shun what was the character of the feelings proper to man. Shun replied, " The feelings proper to man are very unlovely ; why need you ask about them ? When a man has got a wife aud children, his filial piety withers away ; under the influence of lust and gratified desires, his good faith to his friends withers away ; when he is full of dignities and emoluments, his loyalty to his ruler withers away. The natural feelings of man ! The natural feelings of man ! They are very unlovely. Why need \ ou ask about them ? It is only in the case of men of the highest worth that it is not so." There is a knowledge characteristic of the sage ; a know ledge characteristic of the scholar and superior man ; a knowledge characteristic of the mean man ; and a knowledge characteristic of the mere servant. In much speech to show his cultivation and maintain consistency, and though he may discuss for a whole day the reasons of a subject, to have a unity pervading the ten thousand changes of discourse ; — this is the knowledge of the sage. To speak seldom, and in a brief and sparing manner, and to bo orderly in his reason ing, as if its parts were connected with a string ; — this is the

knowledge of the scholar and superior man. Flattering words and disorderly conduct, with undertakings often fol lowed by regrets ; — these mark the knowledge of the mean man. Hasty, officious, smart, and swift, but without consist ency ; versatile, able, of extensive capabilities, but without use ; decisive in discourse, rapid, exact, but the subject un important ; regardless of right and wrong, taking no account of crooked and straight, to get the victory over others the guiding object : — this is the knowledge of the mere servant. There is bravery of the highest order; bravery of the mid dle order ; bravery of the lowest order. Boldly to take up his position in the place of the universally acknowledged Mean ; boldly to carry into practice his views of the doctrines of the ancient kings; in a high situation, not to defer to a bad ruler, and, in a low situation, not to follow the current of a bad people ; to consider that there is no poverty where there is virtue, and no wealth where virtue is not; when ap preciated by the world, to desire to share in all men's joys and sorrows ; when unknown by the world, to stand up grandly alone between heaven and earth, and have no fears : — this is the bravery of the highest order. To be reverently observ ant of propriety, and sober-minded ; to attach impoi'tance to adherence to fidelity, and set little store by material wealth ; to have the boldness to push forward men of worth and exalt them, to hold back undeserving men, and get them deposed ; — this is the bravery of the middle order. To be devoid of self-respect and set a great value on wealth ; to feel complacent in calamity, and always have plenty to say for himself; saving himself in any way without regard to right and wrong ; whatever be the real state of a case, mak ing it his object to get the victory over others : — this is the bravery of the lowest order.

Thefan-joh, the keu, and the shoo were the best bows of antiquity ; but without their regulators, they could not adjust themselves. The tsung of duke Hwan, the keueh of T'aekung, the lull of king Wan, the liwuli of prince Chwang, the Jcan-tseang, moh-yay keu-keueh, and p'eih-leu of Hoh-leu : — these were the best swords of antiquity ; but without the grindstone and whetstone, they would not have been sharp ; without the strength of tho arms that wielded them, they would not have cut anything. The liwa, the lew, the le, the Ic'e, the seen, the lei, the lull, and the urli: — these were the best horses of antiquity; but there were still necessary for them the restraints in front of bit and bridle, the stimulants behind of cane and whip, and the management of a Tsaou-foo, and then they could accomplish a thousand le in one day. So it is with man : — granted to him an excellent capacity of nature and the faculty of intellect, he must still seek for good teachers under whom to place himself, and make choice of friends with whom he may be intimate. Having got good masters and placed himself under them, what he will hear will be the doctrines of Yaou, Shun, Yu, and T'ang ; having got good friends and become intimate with them, Avhat he will see will be deeds of self-consecration, fidelity, reverence, and complaisance : — he will go on from day to day to benevolence and righteousness, without being con scious of it ; a natural following of them will make him do so. On the other hand, if he live with bad men, what he will hear will be the language of deceit, calumny, imposture, and hypocrisy ; what he will see will be the conduct of filthiiiess, insolence, lewdness, corruptness, and greed : — he will be going on from day to day to punishment and disgrace, without being conscious of it ; a natural following of them will make him do so.

The Record says, " If you do not know your son, look at his friends ; if you do not know your ruler, look at his con fidants/'' All is the influence of association ! All is the influence of association ! THE NATURE dates from the date of the life ; THE FEELINGS date from contact with external things. There are three GRADES of the nature, and it has five CHARACTERISTICS. There are also three GRADES of the feelings, and they have seven CHARACTERISTICS. To explain myself: — The three grades of the nature are — the Superior, the Middle, and the Inferior. The superior grade is good, and good only ; the middle grade is capable of being led : it may rise to the superior, or sink to the inferior ; the inferior is evil, and evil only. The five characteristics of the nature are — Benevolence, Righteous ness, Propriety, Sincerity, and Knowledge. In the Superior Grade, the first of these characteristics is supreme, and the other four are practised. In the Middle Gi\ide, the first of these characteristics is not wanting : it exists, but with a little tendency to its opposite ; the other four are in an illassorted state. In the Inferior Grade there is the opposite of the first characteristic, and constant rebelliousness against the other four. The grade of the nature regulates the manifestation of the feelings in it. [Again] :— The three grades of the feelings are the Superioir, the Middle, and the Inferior ; and their seven characteristics are — Joy, Anger, Sorrow, Fear, Love, Hatred, and Desire. In the Superior Grade, these seven all move, and each in its due place and degree. In the Middle Grade, some of the characteristics are in excess, and some in defect ; but there is a seeking to give them their due place and degree. In the Inferior Grade, whether they are in excess or defect, there is a reck less acting according to the one in immediate predominance. The grade of the feelings regulates the influence of the nature in reference to them.

Speaking of the nature, Mencius said : — " Man's nature is good;" the philosopher Seuii said : — " Man's nature is bad ; " the philosopher Yang said : — " In the nature of man good and evil are mixed together." Now, to say that the nature, good at first, subsequently becomes bad ; or that, bad at first, it subsequently becomes good ; or that, mixed at first, it subsequently becomes — it may be good, it may be bad : — in each of these cases only the nature of the middle grade is dealt with, and the superior and inferior grades are neglected. Those philosophers are right about one grade, and wrong about the other two. When Shuh-yu was born, his mother knew, as soon as she looked at him, that he would fall a victim to his love of bribes. When Yang Sze-go was born, the mother of Shuh-heang knew, as soon as she heard him cry, that he would cause the destruction of all his kindred. When Yueh-tseaou was born, Tsze-wun considered it was a great calamity, knowing that through him the ghosts of the Johgaou family would all be famished. — With such cases before

us, can it be said that the nature of man (i.e., all men) is good ? When How-tseih was born, his mother had no suffering ; and as soon as he began to creep, he displayed all elegance and intelligence. When king Wan was in his mother's womb, she experienced no distress ; after his birth, those who tended him had no trouble ; when he began to learn, his teachers had no vexation : — with such cases before us, can it be said that the nature of man (i.e., all men) is evil? Choo was the son of Yaou, and Keun the son of Shun ; Kwan and Ts'ae were sons of king Wan. They were in structed to practise nothing but what was good, and yet they turned out villains. Shun was the son of Koo-sow, and Yu the son of .K'wan. They were instructed to prac tise nothing but what was bad, and yet they turned out sages. — With such cases before us, can it be said that in the nature of man (i.e., all men) good and evil are blended together ? Having these things in view, I say that the three philoso phers, to whom I have referred, dealt with the middle grade of the nature, and neglected the superior and the inferior ; that they were right about the one grade, and wrong about the other two.

It may be asked, " Is it so, then, that the superior and inferior grades of the nature can never be changed ? " I reply, — The nature of the superior grade, by application to learning, becomes more intelligent, and the nature of the inferior grade, through awe of power, comes to have few faults. The superior nature, therefore, may be taught, and the inferior nature may be restrained ; but the grades have been pronounced by Confucius to be unchangeable. It may be asked, " How is it that those who now-a-days speak about the nature do so differently from this ? " I reply, — Those who now-a-days speak about the nature blend with their other views those of Laou-tsze and Buddhism ; and doing so, how7 could they speak otherwise than differ ently from me ? 1. " THE words of Yang Choo and Mih Teih," said Mencius, " fill the empire. If you listen to people's discourses throughout it, j*ou will find that they have adopted the views of the one or of the other. Now, Yang's prin ciple is — ' Each one for himself,' which does not acknowledge the claims of the sovereign. Mih's principle is — 'To love all equally,' which does not acknowledge the peculiar affection due to a father. To acknowledge neither king nor father is to be in the state of a beast. If their principles are not stopped, and the principles of Confucius set forth, their perverse speakings will delude the people, and stop up the path of benevolence and righteousness. ,

" I am alarmed by these things, and address myself to the defence of the doctrines of the former sages, and to oppose Yang and Mih. I drive away their licentious expressions, so that such perverse speakers may not be able to show themselves. When sages shall rise up again, they will not change my words." ' His opposition to Yang and Mih was thus one of the great labours of Mencius' life, and what he deemed the success of it one of his great achievements. His countrymen generally accede to the justice of his claim ; though there have not been wanting some to say — justly, as I think and will endeavour to show in the next section — that Mih need not have incur red from him such heavy censure. For Yang no one has a word to say. His leading principle as stated by Mencius is certainly detestable, and so far as we can judge from the slight accounts of him that are to be gathered from other quarters, he seems to have been about "the least erecttd spirit," who ever professed to reason concerning the life and duties of man. 1 Bk III. Pt II. ix. 9, 10.

2. The generally received opinion is that Yang belonged to the period of 4fThe Warring States/' the same era of Chinese history as Mencius. He was named Choo, and styled Tsze-keu. In a note, p. 159 of my larger work, I have supposed that he was of the times of Confucius and Laou-tsze, having then before me a passage of the Taouist philosopher Chwang, in which he gives an account of an in terview between Laou-tsze and Yang Choo. That interview, however, must be an invention of Chwang, The natural impression which we receive from all the references of Men cius is that Yang must have been posterior to Confucius, and that his opinions had come into vogue only in the times of our philosopher himself. This view would be placed beyond doubt if we could receive as genuine the chapter on Yang, which is contained in the writings of the philosopher Leeh. And so far we may accept it, as to believe that it gives the sentiments which were attributed to him in the 1st century before our era. The leading principle ascribed to him by Mencius nowhere appears in it in so many words, but the general tenor of his language is entirely in accordance with it. This will appear from the following specimens : —

" Yang Choo said, ' A hundred years are the extreme limit of longevity ; and not one man in a thousand enjoys such a period of life. Suppose the case of one who does so : — in fancy borne in the arms, and doting old age, will nearly occupy the half; what is forgotten in sleep, and what is lost in the waking day, will nearly occupy the half; pain and sickness, sorrow and bitterness, losses, anxieties, and fears will nearly occupy the half. There may remain ten years or so ; but I reckon that not even in them will be found an hour of smiling self-abandonment, without the shadow of solicitude. — What is the life of man then to be made of? What pleasure is in it ? " ' [Is it to be prized] for the pleasure of food and dress ? or for the enjoyments of music and beauty ? But one can not be always satisfied with those pleasures ; one cannot be always toying with beauty and listening to music. And then there are the restraints of punishments and the stimu lants of rewards; the urgings and the rcpressings of fame and laws : — these make one strive restlessly for the vain praise of an hour, and calculate on the residuary glory after death ; they keep him, as with body bent, on the watch

against what his ears hear and his eyes see, and attending to the right and the wrong of his conduct and thoughts. In this way he loses the real pleasure of his years, and cannot allow himself for a moment. — In what does he differ from an individual manacled and fettered in an inner prison ? The people of high antiquity knew both the shortness of life, and how suddenly and completely it might be closed by death, and therefore they obeyed the movements of their hearts, refusing not what it was natural for them to like, nor seek ing to avoid any pleasure that occurred to them. They paid no heed to the incitements of fame ; they enjoyed themselves according to their nature ; they did not resist the common tendency of all things to self-enjoyment ; they cared not to be famous after death. They managed to keep clear of punishment ; as to fame and praise, being first or last, long life or short life, these things did not come into their calcu lations. ' '• " Yang Choo said, ' Whei*ein people differ is the mat ter of life ; wherein they agree is death. While they are alive, we have the distinctions of intelligence and stupidity, honourableness and meanness ; when they are dead, we have so much stinking rottenness decaying away : — this is the common lot. Yet intelligence and stupidity, honourableness and meanness, arc not in one's power ; neither is that condition of putridity, decay, and utter disappearance. A man's life is not in his own hands, nor is his death ; his in telligence is not his own, nor is his stupidity, nor his honour ableness, nor his meanness. All are born and all die ; — the intelligent and the stupid, the honourable and the mean. At ten years old some die ; at a hundred years old'somedie. The virtuous and the sage die ; the ruffian and the fool also die. Alive, they were Yaou and Shun ; dead they were so much rotten bone. Alive they were Ke'eh and Chow ; dead, they were so much rotten bone. Who could know any dif ference between their rotten bones ? While alive, therefore, let us hasten to make the best of life ; what leisure have we to be thinking of anything after death ? ' '

" Mang-sun Yang asked Yang-tsze, saying, ' Here is a man who sets a high value on his life, and takes loving care of his body, hoping that he will not die : — does he do right? ' ' There is no such thing as not dying/ was the reply. ' But if he does so, hoping for long life, is he right ? ' Yang-tsze answered, ' One cannot be assured of long life. Setting value upon life will not preserve it ; taking care of the body will not make it greatly better. And, in fact, why should long life be made of? There are the five feelings with their likings and dislikings, — now as in old time ; there are the four limbs, now at ease, now in danger, — now as in old time ; there are the various experiences of joy and sor row, — now as in old time ; there are the various changes from order to disorder, and from disorder to order, — now as in old time : — all these things I have heard of, and seen, and gone through. A hundred years of them would be more than enough, and shall I wish the pain protracted through a longer life ? ' Mang-sun said, ' If it be so, early death is better than long life. Let a man go to tram ple on the pointed steel, or throw himself into the caldron or flames, to get what he desires ' Yang-tsze answered, 'No. Being once born, take your life as it comes, and en dure it, and, seeking to enjoy yourself as you desire, so await the approach of death. When you are about to die, treat the thing with indifference and endure it ; and seeking to accomplish your departure, so abandon yourself to anni hilation. Both death and life should be treated with indif ference ; they should both be endured : — why trouble onesself about earliness or lateness in connexion with them ? '

"K/in-tsze asked Yang Choo, saying, ' If you could benefit the world by parting with one hair of your body, would you do it ? ' ' The world is not to be benefited by a hair/ re plied Yang. The other urged, ' But suppose it could be, what would you do ? ' To this Yang gave no answer, and K'in went out, and reported what had passed to Mang-sun Yang. Mang-sun said, ' You do not understand our Master's mind : — let me explain it to you. If by enduring a slight wound in the flesh, you could get ten thousand pieces of gold, would you endure it ? ' ' I would/ ' If by cutting off one of your limbs, you could p-et a kinp-dom, would vou do it ? K'in •^ v O O ' */ was silent ; and after a little, Mang-sun Yang resumed, ' To part with a hair is a slighter matter than to receive a wound in the flesh, and that again is a slighter matter than to lose a limb : — that you can discern. But consider : — a hair may be multiplied till it become as important as the piece of flesh, and the piece of flesh may be multiplied till it becomes as important as a limb. A single hair is just one of the ten

thousand portions of the body ; — why should you make light of it ? ' <* K'in-tsze replied, ' I cannot answer you. If I could refer your words toLaou Tan or Kwan Yin, they would say that you were right ; but if I could refer my words to the great Yu or Mih Teih, they would say that I was right.' Mang-sun Yang, on this, turned round, and entered into conversation with his disciples on another subject. " "Yang Choo said, 'The empire agrees in considering Shun, Yu, Chow-kung, and Confucius to have been the most admirable of men, and in considering Keeh and Chow to have been the most wicked. ' ' ' Now, Shun had to plough the ground on the south of the Ho, and to play the potter by the Luy lake. His four limbs had not even a temporary rest ; for his mouth and belly he could not find pleasant food and warm clothing. No love of his parents rested upon him ; no affection of his brothers and sisters. When he was thirty years old, he had not been able to get the permission of his parents to marry. When Yaou at length resigned to him the throne, he was advanced in age; his wisdom was decayed; his son Shang-keun proved without ability ; and he had finally to resign the throne to Yu. Sorrowfully came he to his death. Of all mortals never was one whose life was so worn out and em poisoned as his. K'wan was required to reduce the deluged land to order ; and when his labours were ineffectual, he was put to death on mount Yu, and Yu [his son] had to undertake the task, and serve his enemy. All his energies were spent on his labours with the land ; a child was born to him, but he could not foster it ; he passed his door with out entering ; his body became bent and withered ; the skin of his hands and feet became thick and callous. When at length Shun resigned to him the throne, he lived in a low, mean house, while his sacrificial apron and cap were elegant, i Sorrowfully came he to his death. Of all mortals never .was one whose life was so saddened and embittered as his. :0n the death of king Woo [his son], king Shing was young and weak. Chow-kung had to undertake all the imperial duties. The duke of Shaou was displeased, and evil reports spread through the empire. Chow-kung had to reside three years in the east ; he slew his elder brother, and banished his younger ; scarcely did he escape with his life. Sorrow fully came he to his death. Of all mortals never was one

whose life was so full of hazards and terrors as his. Confu cius understood the ways of the ancient emperors and kings. He responded to the invitations of the princes of his time. The tree was cut down over him in Sung; the traces of his footsteps were removed in Wei ; he was reduced to extremi ty in Shang and Chow ; he was surrounded in Ch/in and Ts'ae ; he had to bend to the Head of the Ke family; he was disgraced by Yang Hoo. Sorrowfully came he to his death. Of all mortals never was one whose life was so agi tated and hurried as his. " ' Those four sages,, during their life, had not a single day's joy. Since their death they have had a [grand] fame that will last through myriads of ages. But that fame is what no one who cares for what is real would choose. Celebrate them ; — they do not know it. Reward them ; — they do not know it. Their fame is no more to them than to the trunk of a tree or a clod of earth. " ' [On the other hand], Keeh came into the accumulated wealth of many generations ; to him belonged the honour of the imperial seat ; his wisdom was enough to enable him to set at defiance all below ; his power was enough to shake the empire. He indulged the pleasures to which his eyes and ears prompted him ; he carried out whatever it came into his thoughts to do. Brightly came he to his death. Of all mortals never was one whose life was so luxurious and dissipated as his. [Similarly], Chow came into the accumulat ed wealth of many generations ; to him belonged the honour of the royal seat ; his power enabled him to do whatever he would; his will was everywhere obeyed; he indulged his feelings in all his palaces ; he gave the reins to his lusts through the long night ; he never made himself bitter by the thought of propriety and righteousness. Brightly came he to his destruction. Of all mortals never was one whose life was so abandoned as his.

" ' These two villains, during their life, had the joy of grati fying their desires. Since their death, they have had the [evil] fame of folly and tyranny. But the reality [of enjoyment] is what no fame can give. Reproach them ; — they do not know it. Praise them ; — they do not know it. Their [ill] fame is no more to them than to the trunk of a tree, or to a clod of earth. " ' To the four sages all admiration is given ; yet were their lives bitter to the end, and their common lot was death. 'To the two villains all condemnation is given ; yet their lives were pleasant to the last, and their common lot was likewise death/ '' 3. The above passages are sufficient to show the character of Yang Choo's mind and of his teachings. It would be do ing injustice to Epicurus to compare Yang with him, for though the Grecian philosopher made happiness the chief end of human pursuit, he taught also that " we cannot live pleasurably without living virtuously and justly." The Epicurean system is, indeed, unequal to the capacity, and far below the highest complacencies, of human nature ; but it is widely different from the reckless contempt of all which is esteemed good and great that denies the pages where Yang is made to tell his views.

We are sometimes reminded by him of fragmentary utter ance in the Book of Ecclesiastes : — "In much wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." "As it happeneth to the fool, so it happeneth even to me; and why was I then more wise ? Then I said in my heart, that this also is vanity. For there is no remembrance of the wise more than of the fool for ever ; seeing that which now is, in the days to come shall all be forgotten. And how dieth the wise man? As the fool. Therefore I hated life; be cause the work that is wrought under the sun is grievous to me : for all is vanity and vexation of spirit." "There is a man whose labour is in wisdom, and in knowledge, and in equity. . . All his days are sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night : — this is also vanity. There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that lie should make his soul enjoy good in his labour." "That which befall eth the sons of men befalleth beasts ; even one thing befalleth them : as the one dieth, so dieth the other ; yea, they have all one breath ; so that a man hath no pre-eminence over a beast : for all is vanity. All go to one place ; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. . . Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better than that a man should rejoice in his own works ; for that is his portion : for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him ?"

But those thoughts were suggestions of evil from which the Hebrew Preacher recoiled in his own mind ; and he put VOL. u. 7 them on record only that he might give their antidote along with them. He vanquished them by his faith, in God ; and so he ends by saying, "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. — Fear God, and keep His commandments : for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment with every secret thing, whether it bo good, or whether it be evil." Yang Choo has no redeeming qualities. His reasonings contain no elements to counteract the poison that is in them. He never rises to the thought of God. There are, he allows, such ideas as those of pro priety and righteousness, but the effect of them is merely to embitter and mar the enjoyment of life. Fame is but a phantom which only the fool will pursue. It is the same with all at death. There their being ends. After that there is but so much putridity and rottenness. With him there fore the conclusion of the whole matter is : — "Let us eat and drink; let us live in pleasure; gratify the ears and eyes; get servants and maidens, music, beauty, wine ; when the day is insufficient, carry it on through the night ; EACH

Mencius might well say that if such "licentious talk3' were not arrested, the path of benevolence and righteousness would be stopped up. If Yang's principles had been enter tained by the nation, every bond of society would have been dissolved. All the foundations of order would have been destroyed. Vice would have become rampant, and virtue would have been named only to be scorned. There would have remained for the entire State only what Yang saw in store for the individual man — "putridity and rottenness." Doubtless it was owing to Mencius' opposition that the foul and dangerous cm-rent was stayed. He raised up against it the bulwark of human nature formed for virtue. He insisted on benevolence, righteousness, propriety, fidelity, as the noblest attributes of man's conduct. More was needed, but more he could not supply. If he had had a living faith in God, and had been in possession of His revealed will, the present state of China might have been very different. He was able to warn his countrymen of the gulf into which Yang Choo would have plunged them ; but he could direct them in the way of truth and duty only imperfectly. He sent them in to the dark cave of their own souls, and back to- the vague lessons and imperfect examples of their sages; and China

has staggered on, waxing feebler and feebler, to the present time. Her people need to be directed above themselves and beyond the present. When stars shine out to them in heaven and from eternity, the empire will perhaps renew its youth, and go forward from strength to strength. 1. VERY different from Yang Choo was Mih Teih. They stood at the opposite poles of human thought and senti ment ; and we may wonder that Mencius should have offered the same stern opposition to the opinions of each of them. He did well to oppose the doctrine whose watch word was — " Each one for himself ; " was it right to de nounce, as equally injurious, that which taught that the root of all social evils is to be traced to the want of mutual love ? It is allowed that Mih was a native and officer of the State of Sung; but the time when he lived is a matter of dispute. Sze-ma Ts'een says that some made him to be a contemporary of Confucius, and that others placed him later. He was certainly later than Confucius, to whom he makes many references, not always complimentary, in his writings. In one of his Treatises, moreover, mention is made of Wan-tsze, an acknowledged disciple of Tsze-hea, so that he must have been very little anterior to Mencius. This is the impression also which I receive from the refer ences to him in our philosopher.

In Lew Hin's third catalogue the Mihist writers form a subdivision. Six of them are mentioned, including Mih himself, to whom 71 p'een, or Books, are attributed. So many were then current under his name; but 18 of them have since been lost. He was an original thinker. He exercised a bolder judgment on things than Confucius or any of his followers. Antiquity was not so sacred to him, and he did not hesitate to condemn the literati — the ortho dox — for several of their doctrines and practices. Two of his peculiar views are adverted to by Mencius, and vehemently condemned. The one is about the regula tion of funerals, where Mill contended that a spare simpli city should be the rule.1 On that I need not dwell. The other is the doctrine of " Universal Love." 2 A lengthy exposition of this remains in the Writings which go by Mill's name, though it is not from his own pen, but that of a disciple. Such as it is, with all its repetitions, I give a translation of it. My readers will be able, after perusing it, to go on with mo to consider the treatment which the doctrine received at the hands of Mencius.

IT is the business of the sages to effect the good govern ment of the empire. They must know, therefore, whence disorder and confusion arise, for without this knowledge their object cannot be effected. We may compare them to a physician who undertakes to cure a man's disease : — he must ascertain whence the disease has arisen, and then he can assail it with effect, while, without such knowledge, his endeavours will be in vain. Why should we except the case of those who have to regulate disorder from this rule ? They must know whence it has arisen, and then they can regulate it. It is the business of the sages to effect the good govern ment of all under heaven. They must examine therefore into the cause of disorder ; and when they do so, they will find that it arises from the want of mutual love. When a minister and a son are not filial to their sovereign and their father, this is what is called disorder. A son loves himself, and does not love his father ; — he therefore wrongs his father and advantages himself: a younger brother loves himself, and does not love his elder brother; — he therefore

1 I5k TIT. Pt I. v. 2 In the phrase for this the former character represents a hand grasping two stunts of t/rtiln, so the phrase denotes, " a love that grasps or unites many in its embrace." I do not know how to render it hetter than by '• universal love." Mencius and the literati generally find the idea of equality in it also, and it ih with them — " To love all equally." wrongs his older brother, and advantages himself : a minis ter loves himself, and does not love his sovereign : — he therefore wrongs his sovereign, and advantages himself: — all these are cases of what is called disorder. Though it be the father who is not kind to his son, or the elder brother who is not kind to his younger brother; or the sovereign who is not gracious to his minister : — the case comes equally under the general name of disorder. Tho father loves himself, and does not love his son; — he therefore wrongs his son, and advantages himself: the elder brother loves himself, and does not love his younger brother ; — he therefore wrongs his younger brother, and advantages him self: the sovereign loves himself, and does not love his minister; — he therefore wrongs his minister, and advan tages himself. How do these things come to pass ? They all arise from the want of mutual love. Take the case of any thief or robber : — it is just the same with it. The thief loves his own house, and does not love his neighbour's house ; — he therefore steals from his neighbour's house to advantage his own : the robber loves his own person, and does not love his neighbour ; — he therefore does violence to his neighbour to advantage himself. How is this ? It all arises from the want of mutual love. Come to the case of great officers throwing each othei''s families into confusion, and of princes attacking one another's States : — it is just the same with them. The great officer loves his own family, and does not love his neighbour's; — he therefore throws his neighbour's family into disorder to advantage his own : the prince loves his own State, and does not love his neigh bour's; — he therefore attacks his neighbour's State to ad vantage his own. All disorder in the empire has the same explanation. When we examine into the cause of it, it is found to be the want of mutual love.

Suppose that universal mutual love prevailed throughout the kingdom; — if men loved others as they love themselves, disliking to exhibit what was untilial l And moreover would there be those who were unkind ? Looking on their sons, younger brothers, and ministers as themselves, and disliking to exhibit what was unkind .... the want of filial duty would disappear. And would there be thieves and rob- 1 There are evidently some omissions and confusion here in the Chinese text. bers ? When every man regarded his neighbour's house as liis own, who would be found to steal ? When every one re garded his neighbour's person as his own, who would be found to rob ? Thieves and robbers would disappear. And would there be great officers throwing one another's families into confusion, and princes attacking one another's States ? When officers regarded the families of others as their own, what one would make confusion? When princes regarded other States as their own, what one would begin an attack ? Great officers throwing one another's families into confusion, and princes attacking one another's States, would disappear. If, indeed, universal mutual love prevailed throughout the kingdom ; one State not attacking another, and one family not throwing another into confusion; thieves and robbers nowhere existing; rulers and ministers, fathers and sons, all being filial and kind : — in such a condition the kingdom would be well governed. On this account, how may sages, whose business it is to effect the good government of the kingdom, do other than prohibit hatred and advise to love ? On this account it is affirmed that universal mutual love throughout the kingdom will lead to its happy order, and that mutual hatred leads to confusion. This was what our master, the philosopher Mih, meant, when he said, " We must not but advise to the love of others.'7

OUR Master, the philosopher Mih, said, "That which bene volent men consider to be incumbent on them as their busi ness, is to stimulate and promote all that will be advantage ous to the kingdom, and to take away all that is injurious to it. This is what they consider to be their business." And what are the things advantageous to the kingdom, and the things injurious to it ? Our Master said, " The mutual attacks of State on State; the mutual usurpations of family on family ; the mutual robberies of man on man ; the want of kindness on the part of the sovereign and of loyalty on the part of the minister ; the want of tenderness and filial duty between father and son : — these, and such as these, are the things injurious to the empire." And from what do we find, on examination, that these in jurious things are produced? Is it not from the want of mutual love ? Our Master said, "Yes, they are produced by the want of mutual love. Here is a prince who only knows to love his own State, and does not love his neighbour's ; — he therefore does not shrink from raising all the power of his State to at tack his neighbour. Here is the chief of a family who only knows to love it, and does not love his neighbour's; — he therefore does not shrink from raising all his powers to seize on that other family. Here is a man who only knows to love his own person, and does not love his neighbour's ; — he therefore does not shrink from using all his strength to rob his neighbour. Thus it happens that the princes, not loving one another, have their battle-fields; and the chiefs of families, not loving one another, have their mutual usurpations; and men, not loving one another, have their mutual robberies; and sovereigns and ministei-s, not loving one another, become unkind and disloyal ; and fathers and sons, not loving one another, lose their affection and filial duty ; and brothers, not loving one another, contract irreconcileable enmities. Yea, men in general not loving one another, the strong make prey of the weak ; the rich do despite to the poor ; the noble are insolent to the mean; and the deceitful impose upon the stupid. All the misei'ies, usurpations, enmities, and hatreds in the world, when traced to their origin, will be found to arise from the want of mutual love. On this account, the benevolent condemn it."

They may condemn it ; but how shall they change it ? Our Master said, " They may change it by universal mutual love, and by the interchange of mutual benefits." How will this law of universal mutual love and the inter change of mutual benefits accomplish this ? Our Master said, " [It would lead] to the regarding an other kingdom as one's own ; another family as one's own ; another person as one's own. That being the case, the princes, loving one another, would have no battle-fields ; the chiefs of families, loving one another, would attempt no usurpations ; men, loving one another, would commit no robberies; rulers and ministers, loving one another, would be gracious and loyal ; fathers and sons, loving one another, would be kind and filial ; brothers, loving one another, would bo harmonious and easily reconciled. Yea, men in general loving one another, the strong would not make prey of the weak ; the many would not plunder the few ; the rich would not insult the poor; the noble would not be insolent to the mean ; and the deceitful would not impose upon the simple. The way in which all the miseries, usurpations, enmities, and hatreds in the world may be made not to arise, is universal mutual love. On this ac count, the benevolent value and praise it."

Yes ; but the scholars of the empire and superior men say, " True ; if there were this universal love, it would be good. It is, however,, the most difficult thing in the world." Our Master said, " This is because the scholars and su perior men simply do not understand the advantageousness [of the law], and to conduct their reasonings upon that. Take the case of assaulting a city, or of a battle-field, or of the sacrificing one's life for the sake of fame ; — this is felt by the people everywhere to be a difficult thing. Yet, if the sovereign be pleased with it, both officers and people are able to do it : — bow much more might they attain to uni versal mutual love, and the interchange of mutual benefits, which is different from this! When a man loves others, they respond to and love him ; when a man benefits others, they respond to and benefit him ; when a man injures others, they respond to and injure him : when a man hates others, they respond to and hate him :— what difficulty is there in the matter? It is only that rulers will not carry on the government on this principle, and so officers do not carry it out in their practice.

" Formerly, the duke Wan. of Tsin liked his officers to be badly dressed, and, therefore, they all wore rams'" furs, a leathern swordbelt, and a cap of bleached cotton. Thus attired, they went in to the prince's levee, and came out and walked through the court. Why did they do this ? The sovereign liked it, and therefore the ministers did it. The duke Ling of Ts'oo liked his officers to have small waists, and, therefore, they all limited themselves to a single meal. They held in their breath in putting on their belts, and had to help themselves up by means of the wall. In the course of a year, they looked black, and as if they would die of starvation. Why did they do this ? The sovereign liked it, and, therefore, the ministers were able to do it. Kow-tseen, the king of Yueh, liked his ministers to be brave, and taught them to be accustomed to be so. At a general assembly of them, he set on fire the ship where they were, and to try them, said, " All the precious things of Yueh are here." He then with his own hands beat a drum, and urged them on. When they heard the drum thundering, they rushed confusedly about, and trampled in the fire, till more than a hundred of them perished, when he struck the gong, and called them back.

" Now, little food, bad clothes, and the sacrifice of life for the sake of fame, — these are what it is difficult for people to approve of. Yet, when the sovereign was pleased with it, they were all able [in those cases] to bring them selves to them. How much more could they attain to universal mutual love, and the interchange of mutual benefits, which is different from such things ! When a man loves others, they respond to and love him ; when a man benefits ochers, they respond to and benefit him; when a man hates others, they respond to and hate him ; when a man injures others, they respond to and injure him. It is only that rulers will not carry on their government on this principle, and so, officers do not carry it out in their practice." Yes ; but now the officers and superior men say, " Granted; the universal practice of mutual love would be good ; but it is an impracticable thing. It is like taking up the T'ae mountain, and leaping with it over the Ho or the Tse." Our Master said, " That is not the proper comparison for it. To take up the T'ae mountain, and leap with it over the Ho or the Tse, may be called an exercise of most extra ordinary strength ; it is, in fact, what no one, from antiquity to the present time, has ever been able to do. But how widely different from this is the practice of universal mutual love, ajid the interchange of mutual benefits !

" Anciently, the sage kings practised this. How do we know that they did so ? When Yu reduced the empire to order : — in the west he made the western Ho and the Jootow, to carry off the waters of K/eu-sun-wang ; in the north, he made the Fang-yuen, the Koo, How-che-te, and the Tow of Foo-tfo ; setting up also the Te-ch/oo, and chiselling out the Lung-mun, to benefit Yen, Tae, Hoo, Mih, and the people of tlie western Ho ; in the east, lie drained the waters to Luh-fang and the marsh of Mang-choo, reducing them to nine channels, to limit the waters of the eastern country, and benefit the people of K'e-chow ; and in the south, he made the Keang, the Han, the Hwae, the Joo, the course of the eastern current, and the five lakes, to benefit King, Ts'oo, and Yueh, the people of the wild south. These were the doings of Yu; and I am now for practising the [same] universal [mutual love]. " When king Wan brought the western country to good order, his light spread, like the sun or the moon, over its four quarters. He did not permit great States to insult small ones; he did not permit the multitude to oppress the fatherless and the widow ; he did not permit violence and power to take from the husbandmen their millet, pannicled millet, dogs, and swine. Heaven, as if constrained, visited king Wan with blessing. The old and childless were enabled to complete their years; the solitary and brotherless could yet mingle among the living ; the young and parentless found those on whom they could depend, and grew up. These were tho doings of king Wan; and I a in now for practising the same universal [mutual love].

" King Woo tunneled through the T'ae mountain. The Record says, ' There is a way through the mountain, made by me, the descendant of the kings of Chow : — I have ac complished this great work. I have got my virtuous men, and rise up full of reverence for Shang, He'a, and the tribes of the south, the east, and the north. Though he has his multitudes of relatives, they are not equal to my virtuous rnen. If guilt attach to the people anywhere throughout the empire, it is to be required of me, the One man.' This describes the doings of king Woo, and I am now for prac tising the [same] universal mutual love. "If, now, the rulers of the kingdom truly and sincerely wish all iu it to be rich, and dislike any being poor; if they desire its good government, and dislike disorder ; they ought to practise universal mutual love, and the interchange of mutual benefits. This was the law of the sage kings; it is the way to effect the good government of the kingdom ; it may not but be striven after." OUE Master, the philosopher Mih, said, " The business of benevolent men requires that they should strive to stimulate and promote what is advantageous to the empire, and to take away what is injurious to it."

Speaking, now, of the present time, what are to be ac counted the most injurious things to the empire ? They are such as the attacking of small States by great ones ; the inroads on small families of great ones ; the plunder of the weak by the strong ; the oppression of the few by the many ; the scheming of the crafty against the simple ; the insolence of the noble to the mean. To the same class be long the ungraciousness of rulers, and the disloyalty of ministers ; the unkindness of fathers, and the want of filial duty on the part of sons. Yea, there is to be added to these the conduct of the mean men, who employ their edged weapons and poisoned stuff, water and fire, to rob and injure one another. Pushing on the inquiry now, let us ask whence all these injurious things arise. Is it from loving others and advan taging others ? It must be answered " No ; " and it must likewise be said, " They arise clearly from hating others and doing violence to others." [If it be further asked] whether those who hate and do violence to others hold the principle of loving all, or that of making distinctions, it must be replied, " They make distinctions/' So then, it is this principle of making distinctions between man and man, which gives rise to all that is most injurious in the empire. On this account we conclude that that principle is wrong.

Our Master said, " He who condemns others must have whereby to change them." To condemn men, and have no means of changing them, is like saving them from fire by plunging them in water. A man's language in such a case must be improper. On this account our Master said, " There is the principle of loving all, to change that which makes distinctions." If, now, we ask, " And how is it that universal love can change [the consequences of] that other principle which makes distinctions?" the answer is, "If princes were as much for the States of others as for their own, what one among them would raise the forces of his State to attack that of another ? — he is for that other as much as for himself. If they were for the capitals of others as much as for their own, what one would raise the forces of his capital to attack that of another ? — he is for that as much as for his own. If chiefs regarded the families of others as their own, what one would lead the power of his family to throw that of another into confusion ? — he is for that other as much as for himself. If, now, States did not attack, nor holders of capitals smite, one another, and if families were guilty of no mutual aggressions, would this be injurious to the empire, or its benefit ? " It must be replied, " This would be advan tageous to the empire." Pushing on the inquiry, now, let us ask whence all these benefits arise. Is it from hating others and doing violence to others ? It must be answered, " Xo ; " and it must likewise be said, " They arise clearly from loving others and doing good to others/' [If it be further asked] whether those who love others and do good to others hold the principle of making distinctions between man and man, or that of loving all, it must be replied, " They love all." So then it is this principle of universal mutual love which really gives rise to all that is most bene ficial to the empire. On this account we conclude that that principle is right.

Our Master said, a little ago, " The business of benevolent men requires that they should strive to stimulate and pro mote what is advantageous to the kingdom, and to take away what is injurious to it." We have now traced the subject up, and found that it is the principle of universal love which pi'oduces all that is most beneficial to the kingdom, and the principle of making distinctions which produces all that is injurious to it. On this account what our Master said — " The principle of making distinctions between man and man is wrong, and the principle of universal love is right," turns out to be correct as the sides of a square. If, now, we just desire to promote the benefit of the king dom, and select for that purpose the principle of universal love, then the acute ears and piercing eyes of people will hear and see for one another ; and the strong limbs of people will move and be ruled for one another; and men of principle will instruct one another. It will come about that the old, who have neither wife nor children, will get supporters who will enable them to complete their years ; and the young and weak, who have no parents, will yet find helpers that shall bring them up. On the contrary, if this principle of universal love is held not to be correct, what benefits will arise from such a view ? What can be the reason that the scholars of the empire, whenever they hear of this principle of universal love, go on to condemn it ? Plain as the case is, their words in condemnation of this principle do not stop ; — they say, " It may be good, but how can it be carried into practice ? "

Our Master said, " Supposing that it could not be practis ed, it seems hard to go on likewise to condemn it. But how can it be good, and yet incapable of being put into practice ? " Let us bring forward two instances to test the matter. — Let any one suppose the case of two individuals, the one of whom shall hold the principle of making distinctions, and the other shall hold the principle of universal love. The former of these will say, " How can I be for the person of my friend as much as for my own person ? how can I be for the parents of my friend as much as for my own parents ? " Reasoning in this way, he may see his friend hungry, but h3 will not feed him ; cold, but he will not clothe him ; sick, but he will not nurse him ; dead, but he will not bury him. Si.ch will be the language of the individual holding the prin ciple of distinction, and such will be his conduct. The lan guage of the other, holding the principle of universality, will be different, and also his conduct. He will say, " I have heard that he who wishes to play a lofty part among men, will be for the person of his friend as much as for his own person, and for the parents of his friend as much as for his own parents. It is only thus that he can attain his distinc tion ? Reasoning in this way, when he sees his friend hungry, he will feed him ; cold, he will clothe him ; sick, he will nurse him ; dead, he will bury him. Such will be the lan guage of him who holds the principle of universal love, and such will be his conduct.

The words of the one of these individuals are a condemn ation of those of the other, and their conduct is directly contrary. Suppose now that their words are perfectly sin cere, and that their conduce will be carried out, — that their words and actions will correspond like the parts of a token, every word being carried into effect ; and let us proceed to put the following questions on the case : — Here is a plain in the open country, and an officer, with coat of mail, gorget, and helmet, is about to take part in a battle to be fought in it, where the issue, whether for life or death, cannot be fore known ; or here is an officer about to be despatched on a dis tant co7nmission from Pa to Yueh, or from Tsce to King, where the issue of the journey, going and coming, is quite uncer tain : — on either of these suppositions, to whom will the officer entrust the charge of his house, the support of his parents, and the care of his wife and children ? — to one who holds the principle of universal love ? or to one who holds that which makes distinctions ? I apprehend there is no one under heaven, man or woman, however stupid, though he may condemn the principle of universal love, but would at such a time make one who holds it the subject of his trust. This is in words to condemn the principle, and when there is occasion to choose between it and the opposite, to approve it; — words and conduct are herein contradiction. I do not know how it is, that, throughout the empire, scholars con demn the principle of universal love, whenever they hear it.

Plain as the case is, their words in condemnation of it do not cease, but they say, " This principle may suffice perhaps to guide in the choice of an officer, but it will not guide in the choice of a sovereign." Let us test this by taking two illustrations : — Let any one suppose the case of two sovereigns, the one of whom shall hold the principle of mutual love, and the other shall hold the principle which makes distinctions. In this case, the latter of them will say, " How can I be as much for the per sons of all my people as for my own ? This is much opposed to human feelings. The life of man upon the earth is but a very brief space ; it may be compared to the rapid movement of a team of horses whirling past any particular spot/' lleasoning in this way, he may see his people hungry, but he will not feed them ; cold, but he will not clothe them ; sick, but he will not nurse them ; dead, but he will not bury them. Such will be the language of the sovereign who holds the principle of distinctions, and such will be his conduct.

THE OPINIONS OP MIH TEIH. Ill Different will be the language and conduct of the other who holds the principle of universal love. He will say, " I have heard that he who would show himself a [virtuous and] intel ligent sovereign, ought to make his people the first considera tion, and think of himself only after them." Reasoning in this way, when he sees any of the people hungry, he will feed them ; cold, he will clothe them ; sick, he will nurse them ; dead, he will bury them. Such will be the language of the sovereign who holds the principle of universal love, and such his conduct. If we compare the two sovereigns, the words of the one are condemnatory of those of the other, and their actions are opposite. Let us suppose that their words are equally sincere, and that their actions will be made good, — that their words and actions will correspond like the parts of a token, every word being carried into effect ; and let us proceed to put the following questions on the case : — Here is a year when a pestilence walks abroad among the people ; many of them suffer from cold and famine ; multi tudes die in the ditches and water-channels. If at such a time they might make an election between the two sovereigns whom we have supposed, which would they prefer ? I ap prehend there is no one under heaven, however stupid, though he may condemn the principle of universal love, but would at such a time prefer to be under the sovereign who holds it. This is in words to condemn the principle, and, when there is occasion to choose between it and the opposite, to approve it ; — words and conduct are here in contradiction. I do not know how it is that throughout the empire scholars condemn the principle of universal love, whenever they hear it.

Plain as the case is, their words in condemnation of it do not cease ; but they say, " This universal [mutual love] is benevolent and righteous. That we grant, but how can it be practised ? The impracticability of it is like that of taking up the T'ae mountain, and leaping with it over the Keang or the Ho. We do, indeed, desire this universal love, but it is an impracticable thing ! " Our Master said, " To take up the T'ae mountain, and leap with it over the Keang or the Ho, is a thing which never has been done, from the highest antiquity to the present time, since men were ; but the exercise of mutual love and the in terchange of mutual benefits, — this was practised by the ancient saeres and six kin^s." How do you know that the ancient sages and the six kings practised this ? Our Master said, " I was not of the same age and time with them, so that I could myself have heard their voices, or seen their faces ; but I know what I say from what they have transmitted to posterity, written on bamboo or cloth, cut in metal or stone, engraven on their vessels."

It is said in "The Great Declaration," — "King Wan was like the sun or like the moon; suddenly did his brightness shine through the four quarters of the western region." According to these words, king Wan exercised the principle of universal love on a vast scale. He is compared to the sun or moon which shines on all, without partial favour to any spot under the heavens ; — such was the uni versal love of king Wan." What our Master insisted on was thus exemplified in him. Again, not only does "The Great Declaration" speak thus ; — we find the same thing in " The Declaration of Yu." Yu said, "Ye multitudes, listen all to my words. It is not; only I who dare to say a word in favour of war ; — against this stupid prince of Meaou we must execute the punish ment appointed by Heaven. I am therefore leading your hosts, and go before you all to punish the prince of Meaou." Thus Yu punished the prince of Meaou, not to increase his own riches and nobility, nor to obtain happiness and emolument, nor to gratify his ears and eyes ;— he did it, seeking to promote what was advantageous to the empire, and to take away what was injurious to it. It appears from this that Yu held the principle of universal love. What our Master insisted on may be found in him.

And not only may Yu thus be appealed to ; — we have " The words of T'ang" to the same effect. T'ang said, " I, the child Le, presume to use a dark-coloured victim, and an nounce to Thee, 0 supreme Heavenly Sovereign. — Now there is a great drought, and it is right I should be held respon sible for it. I do not know but that I have offended against the Powers above and below. But the good I dare not keep in obscurity, and the sinner I dare not pardon. The ex amination of this is with Th_y mind, 0 God. If the people throughout the empire commit offences, it is to be required of me. If I commit offences, it does not concern the people." From these words we perceive that T'ang, possessing the dio-nity of supreme king, and the wealth of the kingdom,, yet did not shrink from offering himself as a sacrifice which might be acceptable to God and [other] spiritual Beings." It appears from this that T'ang held the principle of universal love. What our Master insisted on was exemplified in T'ang. And not only may we appeal in this way to the " Declara tions/' " Charges/' and " The Words of T'ang/'— we find the same thing in " The Poems of Chow." One of those poems says,

" Wide and long is the Royal way, It is straight as an arrow, Without deflection, without injustice. It is smooth as a whetstone. The Royal way is plain and level, The officers tread it ; Without injustice, without deflection. The lower people see it." Is not this speaking of the [Royal] way in accordance with our style ? Anciently, Wan and Woo, acting with exact justice and impartiality, rewarded the worthy and punished the oppressive, allowing no favouritism to influence them towards their own relatives. It appears from this that Wan and Woo held the principle of universal love. What our Master insisted on was exemplified in them.— How is it that the scholars of the empire condemn this universal love, whenever they hear of it ? Plain as the case is, the words of those who condemn the principle of universal love do not cease. They say, " It is not advantageous to the entire devotion to parents which is required; — it is injurious to filial piety." Our Master said, "Let us bring this objection to the test: — A filial son, having [the happiness of] his parents at heart, considers how it is to be secured. Now, does he, so considering, wish men to love and benefit his parents ? or does he wish them to hate and injure his parents ? " On this view of the question, it must be evident that he wishes men to love and benefit his parents. And what must he himself first do in order to gain this object ? If I first ad dress myself to love and benefit men's parents, will they for that return love and benefit to my parents ? or if I first ad dress myself to hate men's parents, will they for that return love and benefit to my parents ? It is clear that I must first address myself to love and benefit men's parents, and they will return to me love and benefit to my parents. The conclusion is that a filial son has no alternative. — He must address himself in the first place to love and do good to the