is the grave. Entering the graveyard, we passed through a finely ornamented gate, and then to a second avenue, with lions and other creatures in stone on either hand, and the unfailing cypress overhead. As we approached the tomb, two sages larger than life faced each other, looking most solemnly, as if they wished to remind the visitor of the sacredness of the place. Passing the house where sacrifices are prepared and the worshippers rest and meditate, we were shown a tree planted by Tsze-kung, one of the Sage's disciples, and a pavilion erected by the emperor Keen-lung. The tomb of Confucius is a huge mound, overgrown with trees and shrubs, having in front of it the usual arrangements for sacrifice. Beside it stands a tablet, twenty-five feet high by six feet broad, on which are engraved the name and doings of the Sage. ... On the west of the tomb of the Sage is that of his son Le . . . . and all around the graves of the chiefs of the clan."

The descriptions given by his contemporaries of the appearance of the Sage are so allegorical that they represent nothing definite to the mind, and presuppose an intimate acquaintance on the part of the reader with the outward form and shape of the emperors Yaou and Shun. In his name Kew we have reference to a peculiarity in the shape of his head, which is said to have resembled Mount Kew in having a hollow on the top; whence his name. His statue, which stands in the temple adjoining his tomb, represents him as having been "tall, strong, and wellbuilt, with a full, red face, and large and heavy head."

CHAPTER III.

THE TEACHINGS OF CONFUCIUS.

POSTERITY is the truest judge of a man's work. Many things may tend to warp the judgment of his contemporaries. His adoption of the popular view of the politics of the day may raise him to an extravagant height in their estimation, or should the opposite party enlist his advocacy, he may be proportionately undervalued No such considerations influence the finding of posterity. Being removed by time from the passions of the day, they are removed also from its prejudices. They are not so much concerned with the struggles and throes of parties as with the results to which those struggles and throes give birth. To them the hero of an age appears not unfrequently as a charlatan; and in their estimation the man of genius, depressed by fortune and borne down by adversity, is restored to his legitimate position.

No great character in history can appeal more surely from the opinion of his contemporaries to the verdict of posterity than Confucius. He was essentially a statesman, and the political views he advocated required for their development a sustained period of peace and quiet. He was born for a time of peace,

F

and he was nurtured amid the clash of arms; he was designed by nature for the council-chamber, and he was destined to find governments administered by armed men surrounded by the din of war. The times were against him, and he was obliged to yield to the decrees of fate. Instead of being the honoured adviser of a virtuous sovereign striving to reproduce the heroic age of Yaou and Shun among a contented and law-abiding people, he spent the greater part of his life in offering his services to princes who disdained his overtures and laughed at his theories. It was a time of universal disorder and anarchy. "Right principles had long deserted the empire," and power had become the only standard of truth and virtue.

No wonder, then, that Confucius's career was a failure. He was not a man who could shamelessly trim his sails to the passing breeze, and for him to fail was to enter his protest against the iniquities of the time. But what was lost to his contemporaries has been preserved for posterity. To the succeeding millions of China it has been a matter of unimportance that he was excluded from the council-chambers of princes, so long as they have had access to the words of wisdom with which he instructed his disciples, and thus they have cared not for the contempt with which he was treated by lawless chiefs, so long as they have been able to make his views on the principles of government, and on the duties of citizens their own.

Probably no man has been so contemned during his lifetime, and at the same time so worshipped by posterity, as Confucius. In both extremes there has

been some exaggeration. His standard of morality was high, and his doctrines were pure. Had he therefore had an opportunity of exercising authority, it can but have resulted in good to an age when the notions of right and wrong were strangely confused, and when both public and private morality were at the lowest ebb. On the other hand, it is difficult to understand the secret of the extraordinary influence he has gained over posterity, and the more the problem is studied the more incomprehensible does it become. His system of philosophy is by no means complete, and it lacks life, if we may venture to say so in face of the fact that it has supplied the guiding principles which have actuated the performance of all that is great and noble in the life of China for more than twenty centuries.

The Confucian literature as it stands at the present day is very large; but if we separate out of the mass those canonical works which, according to universal belief, contain the complete system of Confucius, we shall hold in our hands only three thin volumes. The first is the Lun Yu, or "Confucian Analects," in which have been collected by the disciples the sayings of their great master. The other two are the Ta Heo, or "Great Learning," and the Chung Yung, or "Doctrine of the Mean," both of which have been very generally attributed to Tsze-sze, the grandson of Confucius, and both of which contain digests of the doctrines of the Sage. But Confucius was less of an original thinker than a "transmitter," as he calls himself, and therefore it becomes necessary to see what the older canonical works, such as the Yih King, or

"Book of Changes," the She King, or "Book of Odes," and the Shoo King, or "Book of History," say with regard to the subjects of which he treats. In so doing we shall see that Confucius did not transmit faithfully the doctrines of the ancient sages, but, being unable to understand the spiritual side of the characters of those for whom he professed such unbounded admiration, lowered their teachings to the inferior level which he occupied.

There is nothing spiritual in the teachings of Confucius. He rather avoided all references to the supernatural. In answer to a question about death, he answered, While you do not know life, how do you know about death?" Life, then, was his study, and life as represented by man as he exists. The questions whence man came and whither he is going never troubled him; he simply looked on man as a member of a society, and strove to work out for himself by the light of ancient records how he might best contribute to his own happiness, and to that of the world in general.

Man, he taught, is master of his own destiny, and not only so, but he is the equal of heaven and earth, and as such is able to influence the course of nature. By complete sincerity he is able to give its full development to his nature. Having done this, he is able to do the same to the nature of other men. Having given its full development to the nature of other men, he can give their full development to the natures of animals and things. Having given their full development to the natures of animals and things, he can assist the transforming and nourishing powers of