Confucius and Lao-tzu
Confucius
Confucius meets Lao-tzu
Confucius’ Wandering Years
Mandarin in the State of Lu
Years of Delusion
The Time After Confucius and Lao-tzu
To understand better the lives of men like Confucius or Lao-tzu, we must try to project ourselves into the distant past of ancient China, the »Yellow Empire«. While in the lands on the rivers Nile, Euphrates and Tigris the first high civilizations of mankind developed, a rich peasant culture evolved on the fertile loess plateaus of the Hoang-ho region right in the heart of China. The prospering civilization that developed in this area soon gained importance, and its influence expanded widely into the far north and west and extended into the Mongolian steppes where pastoral tribes settled. Under the reign of tyrannical despots, powerful realms evolved and perished again, huge buildings such as the Great Chinese Wall were built and incredible luxury adorned the residential cities of the emperors, while millions of hard-working craftsman and farmers lived a plagued existence in poverty and suppression.
During its long historical development the Chinese civilization and culture grew beyond the borders of its political and military power and spread extensively in the vast regions of Eastern Asia. It extended from the Tibetan mountains to the Japanese islands, and everywhere throughout this vast country the spirit of this supreme civilization was spread, and the philosophy of great men like Confucius and Lao-tzu were disseminated which finally mingled with the mental and cultural heritage of India and the teachings of Gautama Buddha, the Enlightened.
The world of the people settling in these lands is strongly influenced by nature – the fertile but drifting loess soils and the big rivers. It is a world of peasants who live in constant struggle with the ever-changing earth, with wilderness, animals and untamed waters that threaten them. Owing to the natural dangers they constantly face, they try to give the chaos that surrounds them a logical order and to create harmony from the inextricable.
Most of the popular tales told by the Chinese are centered around those legendary emperors who tackled the most prominent problems threatening the Chinese population and who for some time even managed to cope: to tame the wild rivers flowing through the land of the wandering loess. Practically all generations of Chinese history praise the Emperors Yao and Yu, who built huge dams and canals.
All the colorful tales and myths of this nation are characterized by one particular aspect: the desire to establish a supreme order, to overcome chaos and strive towards harmony. The primitive Chinese are peasants who struggle for their arable land and thus have to fight against earth and wilderness, sky and rivers. Their existence is a continuous battle between the elemental, untamed forces and their will to regulate and establish order and reason.
In the late Stone Age the Chinese people are already well aware of the necessity not only to regulate their external life by clearing woods, tilling fields and managing water supply, but also to educate and thus lead human reason and mind to harmony. This basic idea, which goes back to these early prehistoric days, prepares the way for the actual Chinese history and for the Yellow Civilizations which over thousands of years developed their own specific identity that can still be felt in today's Chinese culture.
Many centuries B.C. the powerful Chou Empire evolved under the rule of King Wen and his son Wu. Many wars were fought by the Chous who were guided by their determination to systematically destroy all memories of preceding dynasties, which had no longer been able to maintain order in the world.
After having successfully completed his wars, the new emperor convenes his attendants, generals and ministers to his fortified palace which is located in the city of Feng, high up on the mountains. From a distance the iron gongs resound solemnly to welcome the guests.
There is no hall in the palace that would be big enough to host the huge crowd of noblemen who want to greet the emperor. Therefore court officials usher those arriving to the big courtyard, whose wooden galleries form a quadrangle around the cistern. A throne has been set up and covered with tiger and leopard furs.
The iron gongs sound again, a corps of musicians beat the fur drums and sounding stones, flutes shrill and bronze cymbals resound when the big bamboo gate opens and Emperor Wu and his male relatives appear.
The Emperor is still young. His face is inscrutable like a mask. His vigorous chin and the fire blinking out of his dark eyes from between his small lids express energy and awareness of power. His speech is calm and full of natural dignity.
He talks about the years of the war, the victories and conquests, which have yielded to the Chou an enormous empire which stretches from the Dragon Mountains down to the sea, yes even as far as to the distant peninsula of Korea. More than fifty new provinces have surrendered to the armies of the Chou.
„But conquest is nothing,“ says the emperor, „order is everything“.
Now, as the battles have come to an end, it is the highest obligation of the Chou to re-establish harmony in the world. Never shall this dynasty forget that the upheaval of the Yin Emperors was caused by inner chaos and that the Hsia and Yin dynasties had perished because of the disturbed order in their countries.
„Therefore it is our duty,“ exclaims Wu, „to establish order now and forever in our own house as well as in all houses of the country!“
And then, in a solemn voice, he promulgates the new laws governing succession and hierarchy.
„I have won great victories and have conquered a huge empire,“ the emperor says and a smile embellishes his rigid features. „You, my loyal followers, have helped me. Therefore you shall help me now to govern this empire. But to rule once again means order and harmony. The inferior shall obey the superior, and the emperor shall be above all others. I have the will to divide the Empire of Chou into districts; and each of you shall govern a part of this country, and from time to time shall render an account to me about his deeds. Therefore I shall appoint a duke or Kung as prince to rule over the provinces. Come to me, my »Small Honorable«, brother T'an, I appoint you prince of Chou! You shall rule over the tribal country of the Chou in the Dragon Mountains.“
And once again the silken garments flow, and the sound of clapping echoes from the walls of the palace when the young prince bends his knee in front of the emperor to receive a purple cap as a sign of his dignity. Then the generals, ministers and the great men of the country are called forth to receive from the emperor’s hand their investitures with the ranks of dukes.
Then Emperor Wu once again speaks.
„The Empire is founded, the order of the world is re-established,“ he exclaims. „But never forget that order is only worth as much as the hearts of the men in whose hand it is. As long as the duke is friend, father and protector of his noblemen and peasants, as long as the knight is a good neighbor and benevolent fighter for his peasants, there will be harmony between the throne and the people and peace between the Earth and Heaven.“
Every five years Emperor Wu travels through his vast empire. Drawn by fiery stallions, his carriage, followed by riders who bear lances, hurries over the dusty roads of the provinces. In the years of inspection, the emperor leaves in the second month of spring to head for the holy mountain of the east, in summer he travels to the holy mountain of the south, in the eighth month he travels to the holy mountain of the west and in the eleventh month, when snow heavily falls from the sky, his carriage takes him to the sanctuary of the holy mountain of the north.
The dukes send out riders to meet him on his way and to accompany the Lord of the Yellow Empire to the cities and the market squares. Emperor Wu himself lives a life in harmony. At all places that he visits he asks for the oldest men in town and full of hospitality invites them to see them so that they can report about the situation in the country. He never ever relies merely on the reports of his feudal lords. But when there is any man older than eighty, the emperor spares him the tiresome way to the court, and the emperor himself goes to see him, because great is his esteem of age and wisdom.
Often he mingles into the crowds on the markets, and he examines the offered goods that caravans from the far West or South have brought to the country. Whenever some folk singers perform somewhere nearby, he invites them to his camp and enthusiastically listens to their ballads and songs.
But despite all his kindness and benevolence Wu never forgets that he has gained possession of the empire through military power and war. With a strong hand he eliminates all resistance and suppresses any arising riots or upheavals.
The Emperor has given to the Yellow Empire the highest order possible and has established harmony between heaven, earth and humans. His destiny deems his task fulfilled and dismisses him. He dies young and leaves his empire to his minor son, a pupil of the Duke of Chou.
T'an, the »Small Honorable«, is a part of harmony too, and he does not know any personal ambition or lust for power. Loyally he reigns the people and the country on behalf of the young heir. Even centuries later the rule of the Duke of Chou is remembered and praised as an era of peace and justice. A peasant poet wrote the following quatrain:
The crowds seek profit,
The Honorable glory.
The good man esteems success,
The wise man merely the soul!
Under the mild and just rule of the duke and his successors the pressure of the belief in bad spirits and demons loses ground in the people's souls. As they no longer live in fear of the unknown and the untamed, they do not need any explanation about ghosts or demonic beings from a world of horrors. Slave sacrifices in honor of the Gods are abolished and made punishable.
The great duke, who loved music and who considered it a means to mitigate the instinctive and unbridled elements in humans, created a kind of huge orchestra, in which everyone had to play his part in accordance with his significance, competence and grade. But he too was powerless against the future, because in the womb of the future there were hidden threats which inevitably had to penetrate from all sides into the Chou Empire and its people, when once an emperor did not know the high art of directing the enormous orchestra of the state.
The system of feudalism, which he and his elder brother Wu had introduced as the new regime, was as good or as bad as the bearers of power of the various groups. As long as there were strong rulers and dukes, earls and barons who were well aware of their patriarchal tasks and were therefore good representatives of this noble regime, everything worked out well. But woe to the state of Chou when it was governed by weak emperors and when the shepherd who was meant to protect and guide his people became a robber or wolf himself!
The spirit of the duke was still felt many years after his death. Even the fifth emperor of the dynasty of Chou still had the reins of the realm fast in his hands, although the tax burden to be borne by the peasants had become heavier and the pernicious richness of the feudal classes had grown enormously. The treasures accumulated during the five generations of peaceful development and his undisputed power finally motivated Emperor Mu to undertake unnecessary and futile military campaigns to the far West with its mountains and deserts, a region which at that time still represented a threatening dark and mysterious gate to adventure.
After the death of Emperor Mu the decline began.
Through arbitrary endowment of land to dukes and barons and repeated upgrading of ranks among the noblemen, the power of the feudal lords throughout the country increased enormously. Under the weak Chou emperors the former feudal states developed into practically independent kingdoms, the earls felt like dukes and claimed unlimited power, the barons saw themselves as masters over the life, death and property of the peasants and increasingly understood that it was on them to squeeze out as much as possible from the poor people of their land in order to become richer and even more powerful.
So the times of the seekers of truth such as Confucius and Lao-tzu dawned.
In today's Shantung Province, near to the city of Dsou, the holy hill of Mu rises. In the year 551 B.C., a woman, while on pilgrimage to the Gods of the mountains, is surprised by labor, and in a cave she gives birth to a boy, who is given the name K'ung-Fu-Tzu (Confucius).
In the far West at that time the great king Cyrus conquers Babylon and delivers the people of Israel from Babylonian captivity. In Greece the great philosophers of the Ionic School lead occidental thinking into new tracks; in Olympia young people from all over Hellas meet for national sports competitions, and in India Buddha, the Enlightened, gathers his disciples around him and teaches asceticism and self-redemption.
Confucius' father descends from the old imperial dynasty of Yin. The family, however, has long been without any influence, although important soldiers, politicians and high state officials were among their ancestors. Before the son Confucius nine sisters are born. Confucius is the tenth child, and startling signs forebode his birth. For this reason his mother undertakes a pilgrimage to the spirits of the mountains, because astrologers have announced to her that the sacred hill of Mu would be a most blissful place for the future of the unborn child.
The small feudal state of Lu, to which Confucius' hometown belongs, is governed by tyrannical dukes. Here the old families still enjoy high esteem, but they do not have the smallest influence in the political guidance of the country.
His father is already seventy years old, when Confucius is born. He dies when Confucius is still an infant. His mother teaches the boy – free of any fears of demons and superstition – ancient legends, traditions and wisdoms. After years of preparation in her own house, she sends the young boy, who is eager for knowledge, to the school of the wise Mandarin Yen.
After having completed the Mandarin's education, the poverty of his family forces him into the tough school of life. At first he becomes administrator of the local granary and tax official. As he fulfils all duties assigned to him with the utmost diligence, the ministry of the State of Lu promotes him to supervisor of all the herds of his local district. Through his work he slowly gains insight into the problems of administration and economy, and he realizes that in this field the old regime has broken down too and is no longer in accordance with the powerful spirits of the mountains, from where China’s destiny is determined.
At the age of twenty years, Confucius quits his work as supervisor of the herds of Lu, and despite his youth he gathers disciples around him, whom he wants to teach about a new order. In a country in which age counts more than anything else, it is a very high risk to set up one's own school at such a young age. Nevertheless the reputation of the young scholar quickly spreads far beyond the city of Dsou within the next few years. Young, ambitious people search the vicinity of the learned man in order to learn from his discourses. One of them is Tzu-kung who holds a modest court office in the imperial city of Loyang and only stays temporarily in the State of Lu.
After his return to the imperial city, a high Mandarin and Minister of the Emperor asks him,
„Is your master a saint? Which skills does he possess?“
Tzu-kung answers, „If heaven allows it, the young Kung will be a saint one day. He possesses many wonderful abilities.“
During another one of Tzu-kung's stays in the state of Lu, Master Kung hears about the Mandarin's interest. So he asks Tzu-kung, „Why does the minister know me who is so miserable? My youth was poor. Neither do I belong to the rich nor the powerful. The only thing I have acquired is knowledge. But no longer do I seek knowledge – today I seek wisdom.“
In awe and admiration the student replies to him, „Who knows like you the way of the ancient rulers and the traditional books of our ancestors?“
Confucius modestly lowers his eyes.
„O Tzu-kung, I explore what is down here on the Earth in order to penetrate what is up there. If I meet any dignified man, I strive to become his equal, but if I meet an undignified one, I examine myself and explore my innermost feelings. Not yet am I wise, but firm do I stand on the ground of truthfulness. At thirty years a man has to stand firm.“
„What, oh master, is it you strive for?“
„I try to become noble myself, before I teach others to be noble.“
„But what, oh honorable, do you consider noble?“
„The noble man knows right and justice, the base one profits. The noble man demands much from himself, the base much from others. The noble man seeks inner values, the base one property. A noble man who is not benevolent may well exist, but there is certainly no base man who is benevolent. The noble man is not judged by trivialities, but he is able to assume the great. The base man, however, cannot assume anything great, but he certainly can be judged by trivialities.“
Tseng-tzu, another of his disciples, rises to speak when Confucius has finished.
„Remember, oh Tzu-kung, the two words in which master Kung’s wisdom is founded: »Kung« means to fulfill to the extreme one's duties as man, and »fu« means to treat others as you want to be treated, and it also means to love your neighbor as you love yourself. But four things are totally missing in our Master’s character. He has neither prejudices, nor a stubborn craving for admiration, nor obstinacy nor any sense of selfishness.“
At the age of thirty, Master Kung is called to the imperial court in Loyang to become the teacher of the Prince Imperial Ching-wang. His journey to the capital is of utmost significance to Confucius, for everywhere he meets important testimonials and the evidence of the great past of the empire.
As in a dream he walks through the palace district and watches the huge mythical animals chiseled out of stone that guard the paths which lead to the imperial graves. He sees the high, carved arches in front of the temples of the ancestors, the gilded bricks and the cambered ridges of the roofs with their bronze dragons. Well-ordered and powerful was the ancient world of the emperors, for it was filled with benevolence, justice and truthfulness that radiated culture, education and knowledge.
Incredibly rich and comprehensive is the library of the palace at Loyang. Thousands of works of all kinds are stored on the varnished shelves. Most of the books consist of carefully piled stacks of bamboo plates, which are labeled with red linen stripes. Some newer editions are painted on fine linen, carefully rolled and stored in precious containers, which too are labeled with purple linen stripes carrying the title of the books.
The scholar from Dsou spends many hours and days in the »Hall of Light« in order to study the wisdoms of ancient times. On one of these days of quiet and blissful work the silence in the »Hall of Light« is suddenly disturbed. His friends and disciples Tzu-kung, Tseng-tzu and Chin quickly enter through the big, silk-lined bamboo gate, and in a state of highest excitement they report to Confucius in an awestruck whispering voice that Lao-tzu, the great Lao-tzu, has just arrived in the palace as a guest of the duke.
Confucius' eyes light up. Silently he puts his writing brush aside and rises from his seat. „This day is a day of heaven,“ he says in a solemn tone.
The eighty-five-year-old Lao-tzu has nearly become a living legend. A long time ago the age-old man had administered the library at the court of the Chou emperors. Observing the decline of the Chou dynasty, Lao-tzu left the court and headed west. In the distant mountains of the West, he was stopped by Yin-his, the guardian of the frontier pass Hanku.
The guardian said to the old man, „I see, oh Master, that you are disposed to retreat to solitude. But I request you for mankind's sake to write down your knowledge and not let the wisdom of your age be lost.“
Lao-tzu had sought the silence of wilderness and found shelter in a cave. There he wrote his books about the world principle Tao and the concepts of highest virtue. According to Lao-tzu virtue means to be one with the spirit of Tao, with the harmony of the world's reason and life. Tao is a cosmic principle, the great secret way of existence, which only the wise realize. As life, happiness and pain as well as death, love and greatness are only changing stages in the eternally moving stream of existence, only a fool will try to withstand his destiny.
„Knowledge is vain, acting is superfluous. Wishes are harmful, richness, honor and the entire step ladder of pleasure and pain, which offers itself delusively to our senses, is as futile as dreams.“
After having completed his great work, Lao-tzu returns from loneliness into the inhabited world, and one of the first stops on his way is the palace of Loyang.
The entire court, including the Emperor and the Prince Imperial, have gathered around Lao-tzu in the »Hall of Enlightenment«. The wise old man huddles in the middle of the ample room. He is dressed in long, simple garments. His small, inquiring eyes, which do not show any human emotion, examine the young scholar who approaches him in awe and humbly bows in front of him. No movement can be seen in the old man's face, which is marked with pain, disappointment and loneliness and which seems to have found completion in ultimate spiritualization.
The court is silent and everyone watches the two wise men, whose names are widely known among all the learned men throughout the country.
Lao-tzu's voice can hardly be heard. It sounds as if he spoke to himself.
„It is vain to be active for earthly things. The crowd is lethargic and falls back into dumbness again and again. To resist it, is unworthy of a wise man. He should rather retreat into the loneliness of his own soul, seek to explore the secrets of his soul, explore the secret of creation and struggle his way to self-redemption. So, at the end of his life, he may rise from dust to the crystal pureness of the spirit and attain Tao.“
„Adorable master!“ Confucius replies, „allow your undeserving admirer to have some totally different thoughts. The learned man should not seclude himself from the world, but he should use his wisdom in order to help the ignorant. But how can we help if we escape into the seclusion of Tao? I believe that people are what we evoke in them. In man there is everything at one time: the good and evil, the noble and the base, but it always depends what we address and move. To cast light on the noble is the task of every government. Therefore I seek for the most appropriate basic principles underlying human coexistence, principles which are able to restructure the moral relations between humans. These may be ancient and simple rules that everyone understands: Don't hide your grain if others have nothing to eat! Don't deprive a rightful heir of his rights! Don't deprive your neighbor of his livelihood! Be mild in earnestness and severe without cruelty, be eager without pride! These are rules that everyone understands and that are useful for the well-being of the society. You can already find them in the teachings of the ancient emperors!“
There is a long silence in the hall before Lao-tzu's low voice is heard again.
„The ancient emperors are dead, their bones are dust, their deeds are gone. If Man lives in favorable times he may rise. But if the streams of his time are against him, as it is the case in our time, his feet seem to walk as if they were tied. I have learned that in times of misery the clever merchant who has accumulated riches pretends to be poor in order to escape envy. And this is also true for the man who has accumulated knowledge – he has to pretend to be dumb in order to escape mischief. Refrain from your path, K'ung-Fu-Tzu, for you will not be able either to penetrate the morass of the base!“
„Wise and great scholar!“ Confucius replies in awe, „Pardon me for my foolishness. But in the inexperience of my youth I believe that there is a way to improve the world. We have to precede and encourage other people and must not become tired!“
„The people will not follow you, Master Kung!“
„We have to turn to them in dignity, and they will learn awe. We have to teach our neighbors charity and love for children, and they will be loyal. We have to raise the good and teach the unknowing, and they will strive for the best!“
Lao-tzu closes his eyes as if in tremendous exhaustion and tiredness. „Oh Kung!“ he says, „What do you, who are without authority, want to effect? He who is somebody else's son has nothing but what he owes to his father; he who is somebody else's official has nothing because he owes everything to this other one. Everyone who like you unveils the mistakes of his surroundings through his conduct and sermons brings himself into danger! Look around, master Kung! Look around this hall and see how many who are lower and less learned than you are decorated with precious golden, crystal or emerald buttons on their bonnets, but you only bear the sign of the lowest rank!“
„Of course you are right,“ Confucius answers with a smile, while an indignant murmur runs through the lines of the Mandarins. „We often seem helpless, and often do we preach in deserted mountains. Where we speak to the people, we harvest hatred. And nevertheless I keep hoping without getting tired. It is written in the books: Truth will win in the end…“
Lao-tzu's face is unmoved as it was at the beginning of the discourse. Silently he points his hand to the window which is lined with transparent silk gauze. On the paved square in front of the »Hall of Enlightenment« there is a bronze statue of a former minister who had become famous because of his farsighted caution. The lips of the statue are sealed with three latches.
„Have you read the inscription?“ the old man asks. „Be careful when speaking! Don't speak too much for the word leads to mischief.“
Lao-tzu gets up with difficulty, and two servants hurry to help him. With a loving, affectionate gesture the white-haired man places his hand on the shoulder of the young man.
„Great is the lonely man, and he is a saint!“ he murmurs. „Everything earthly rises from the Tao and returns to it again. The utmost human goal is to be one with the law of the world, the ultimate moral determination is not doing, but being.“
The Way of Heaven:
It does not strive; yet it wins easily.
It does not speak, yet it understands how to answer.
It does not call, and yet everything comes.
It is gentle, and yet it understands how to plan.
Heaven's net is big,
and despite its wide meshes nothing escapes from it!
„But how,“ Confucius insists, „how shall the evil of the time disappear, how shall mankind improve and rise if we do not act? Isn't an idle authority more to be feared than a wild tiger?“
Something reminiscent of a smile appears on the wrinkly features of the old man.
„Go your way, Kung! You can't help it, it is your Tao. But I tell you, yours will be futile efforts and in the end you will find disappointment!“
Years go by, and still Confucius continues his learning. His work as a teacher in Loyang only exists formally and hardly brings him any income. He lives in poverty from dried meat and fruits which his disciples offer him. He often speaks to them about the life of a scholar:
„A man, whose mind is set on truth, and who is ashamed of bad clothes and bad food, is not fit to be discoursed with.“
He does not accept stupidity and laziness.
„Rotten wood cannot be carved, and a wall built from dirty earth cannot be whitened. I will not make accessible truth to anyone who is not able to summon up enthusiasm, and I cannot help anybody who is not able to express his thoughts. He who is not able to explain three other sides of a problem after I have enlightened one side of it, will no longer be taught by me.“
In these years, in which he has access to the big imperial library in Loyang, Confucius starts to compile the »Books of Records« from reports of ancient times, the »Book of Rites« according to traditions of the Duke of Chou and the »Book of Odes« compiled from a collection of old folk songs.
Whenever he works on these works, he thinks of the task which he has given to his life: to improve the government and the society and to tame chaos. Among the educating intellectual forces, of which he hopes to gain refinement of the human soul, he considers music as particularly important.
Time passes by, and it is blown away just like the loess dust of the hills is blown away by the winds; it flows like the rain that washes away the earth from the mountains and washes it down to the bed of the Hoang-ho river. Weeks, months and years pass and with them master Kung's lifetime. He writes sad verses:
The storm howls through
the valleys,
Heavy summer rains pour down.
Driven out of my home,
I wander through foreign lands
Without purpose nor aim.
Dark, dark is the mind of Man!
In vain virtue wants to help.
And time is flying,
Soon dreary age is near.
Confucius decides to leave the court of Loyang. The city of a powerless emperor does not offer any office for the reformer in which he would have the chance to work effectively and realize his ideas. Intrigues, envy and hatred rule at the court. The people do not listen to him – so Lao-tzu was right!
When spring brings along sun and warmth, Master Kung takes his walking stick and together with some selected disciples he wanders from one prince's court to another in order to find some despot who would give him the chance to set up an ideal regime for the future, a regime in which everyone is meant to be happy and content.
But everywhere he goes, he meets decay of the government and decline of social morals.
At the court of Prince Dsi dancing girls have the say. At the courts of other dukes the noblemen waste the taxes collected from the peasants and citizens. Master Kung desperately complains to his disciples, „If this can be tolerated, what is it then that will not be tolerated?“
His disciples are scandalized too, and they call for upheaval and revolution, „For the wise man there are neither noblemen nor base men, but only humans! The differences between the ranks have to be abolished!“
„That is not wisely spoken, my friend!“ master Kung replies. „In fact there is a nobleman as there is a base man, just as there are different kinds of birds like the sparrow and the bird of paradise. But I do make a difference between inherited nobility without merits and noblemen who have gained their nobility due to their own merits. The true noblemen's thoughts are directed only towards the noble, but those of the others are directed towards the low. In a state of true order the social differences will not totally be eliminated, but they will be assigned according to actual merit. Everyone will have to fulfill the role assigned to him; a state is good when the prince is a prince, the minister is a minister, the father is a father and the son is a son.“
When the group of wanderers reaches the residence of Prince Yang-ho they find confirmed all the rumors about the immorality and corruption ruling there. Every day the court celebrates opulent feasts, while the population is starving and is tormented by corrupt officials. In silent protest Confucius settles down in the district of the poor. Even when Prince Yang-ho sends him presents in order to invite the scholar to his court, the wise man keeps away from the palace.
One day while Confucius stands at one of the city gates called »Rose Gate«, Mongolian slaves carry by Yang-ho's palanquin. It is accompanied by soldiers bearing bamboo lances and dancers who beat cymbals and drums in honor of the prince.
Yang-ho beckons the master and reproachfully asks him,
„I was told that you praise yourself as being benevolent? But to keep one's treasure locked up in one's own heart and let the country err, can this be called benevolent?“
„No!“ Confucius answers frankly.
„The days and months pass by, oh Master. They are waiting for you!“
Confucius hesitates for a moment. Then he says,
„Well, I am willing to assume an office…“
The satisfied prince makes a sign to his slaves, and the colorful procession continues on its way, accompanied by the rhythm of the drums.
Back home in the poor dwelling they have rented, the disciples ask their master why he follows the call of a tyrant who has such a terribly bad reputation. „Have we not heard the master speak before: Keep away from him who is not noble in person?"
„Yes, that's what I have taught you,“ replies Confucius, „but it is also true that the solid cannot be ground, but only abraded. Therefore I want to try to make Yang-ho a better man.“
His attempt fails already a few weeks later. The prince grows angry when Confucius rebukes him for his luxurious way of life. He had expected an assistant, not someone to warn him. The disappointed prince chases the inconvenient man away. Master Kung leaves the city followed by the mocking laughter of the court.
„Oh,“ he says, „this was not important! If I only had a few more years, I would study the »Book of Changes«, which I do not yet know sufficiently. With its help I would certainly be able to avoid such big mistakes.“
He studies, ponders, works on himself and waits for his hour to come. When he is fifty years old, destiny gives him another chance.
A former disciple of Confucius, who in the meantime has gained a high-ranking Mandarin position in the State of Lu, recommends to the governing prince Kung's recall to his home country.
A most honorable invitation is sent to the master, and happily he makes his way back to his country. While on his way he learns that the state of Lu is in a desperate situation owing to its internal and external disorder.
He travels down the big stream on a princely galley. In triumph he makes his entrance into the city. His way leads him through secluded yards, past splashing fountains, glittering ponds and high stone statues. The guest is carried over curved wooden bridges, through a small park up to a terrace that is illuminated with lampions and finally into a hall, from whose lacquered frames silk banners hang down. Behind a grating painted in coral red stairs lead up to the throne.
To the right and left of his way Mandarins of all ranks await his arrival. Following the instructions laid down in the Book of Rites, which was compiled by the Duke of Chou, they hide their hands in the wide sleeves of their garments and keep their arms crossed in front of their chest.
Ting, the Prince of Lu, dressed in yellow silk, sits in front of the green lion banner and awaits his guest.
Master Kung bows deeply, and in turn all Mandarins bow to greet him. In this moment he believes he has reached his life's goal. Finally he is given a field on which to sow and maybe to harvest his fruits.
At the same time with Confucius, his former students arrive from everywhere in the country; most of them become state officials in order to help the master in implementing his ideas.
His right hand is his favorite student Yen-hui, an ingenious, gifted young man, in whom Confucius sees his mental heir. To his inner circle he appoints the brave, quick and energetic Dsi-lu, who follows him in great loyalty, Dsi-hao, who descends from a peasant class, Tseng, who diligently collects all his discourses and aphorisms, and his son Li.
Soon the master is promoted from his position of a city prefect to the high office of a minister for public work and justice. During the solemn inauguration ceremony for his office as minister for justice and legislation he presents his reform program to the assembled royal household.
„Allow your humble servant Kung,“ he respectfully addresses his prince, „to try to explain the reasons for the confusion, the disorders and the numerous plagues of our world. The sun, the moon and stars, the clouds, winds, rain and the heat of the summer, they all carry in themselves their own spirit… All nature lives in harmony, and its order has to be continued into a sound human hierarchy. But this natural order is disturbed by two diseases: by the continuous wars people fight against each others and by the bad example the powerful set to their subjects."
An agreeing murmur is heard among Kung's students. The Mandarins, however, remain unmoved; their faces are rigid and lifeless like masks.
Confucius takes a deep breath, his face is flushed. What he now wants to propose as a practical measure is so new and so incredible that it will certainly meet fierce resistance.
„The state of Tsin is Lu's ancient hereditary enemy,“ he says firmly. „Both countries arm themselves because they are afraid of each others. They spend their economic wealth on financing war expenditure. And to be always alert and prepared to fight, sooner or later inevitably leads to war itself. Therefore I suggest that we destroy our weapons, demolish our fortresses and prohibit the carrying of arms in the state of Lu.“
General Tsong, the commander of the troops, jumps to his feet. His face is red with anger and he touches his sword.
„If we do such an insane thing, we will be soon easy prey for the men of Tsin!“
The prince himself, whose perplexity is more than obvious, calls for silence and asks Kung to explain his idea.
The master raises his voice to express his accusation:
„Killing one person is considered a capital crime and is punished by death. According to this principle killing ten people would be ten times as criminal and thus should be punished with ten times death; killing a hundred people then must be a hundred times as unjust and should be punishable one hundred times. All civilized people of this world condemn killing of a person as a crime, but nobody condemns killing in wars in which thousands of people are killed; but they rather appreciate war. So little do we people know about what is right and what is wrong.“
Once again a hostile murmur runs through the circles of advisers, but Kung gives nobody the chance to speak and directly addresses the prince now.
„Now, most adorable prince, I want to discuss the second important aspect: how to heal these internal harms. To govern means to do what is just! If you, dear prince, assume guidance, who should dare to do something unjust?
Every state may evoke two kinds of forces in its subjects: the good and the bad. To create order means to support the good and give them power, for the people obey the good. But if you support the bad in order to suppress the good, you support - for the sake of taxes - the gambling houses, the reckless tax collectors and informers, and let the police - for the sake of your rule - apply violence and arrest people. So you support the bad, and the state decays; for each state is only as firm as the love of the people who carry it.
See, the human soul possesses five basic moral instincts. We call them Yen, I, Li, Ji and Hsin. The symbol standing for »Yen«, which means benevolence, is composed of two different characters: one of the characters stands for »Man« the other is a numerical character and means »two«. But what does benevolence mean? It is the relationship between myself and the others, it is just behavior towards my fellows, it is charity.
Therefore I recommend you: When at home, be polite; when doing business, be respectful; when in contact with other people, be loyal, even when dealing with barbarians. That is what I call »Jen«, true benevolence.
»I« means righteousness, it means tolerance and respect for your fellow's rights. By »Li« I mean everything that is prescribed by tradition and rites: reverence, politeness, decency and cultivation of the arts. Teach your people politeness, dear prince, and you will see how they will try to return it to you. Politeness means taming rawness.
But what do I understand by »Ji«? It means striving for knowledge that finally cumulates in wisdom. Never will any truthful Man be complacent and frugal while striving for knowledge and virtue. To be endowed with wisdom right from birth would be ideal. To obtain wisdom through learning comes next. To be dumb but yet to learn in order to acquire wisdom comes next. But to be dumb and not to learn – that's the style of the base ones.
»Hsin«, the last of the basic human instincts means reliability and truthfulness! The character that stands for this concept is formed from the symbols for »Man« and »word«. It shall remind us that every man has to keep his promise…“
The master makes a deep bow in front of the prince who subsequently rises from the throne and, pondering, dissolves the audience.
For five years Master Kung and his disciples work in order to tame the bad instincts of Man; for five years they build dams against the destructive forces that again and again break out from the hearts and brains of the people.
The State of Lu, once liberated from the burdens of its arms and the fears of war, prospers and grows rich, so rich that it causes envy in its neighboring states.
The Duke of Tsin attempts to break the power of Lu's wise minister by applying a strange, but most effective means. He sends the Prince of Lu eighty charmingly dressed female slaves who know the arts of dancing and singing as well as those of love and seduction. Furthermore the envoys give him a special gift of honor - an entire arsenal of battle horses, armors and swords.
Master Kung realizes the danger of the gifts which have apparently been sent as a peaceful and neighborly token, and he warns the sovereign to reject them. The dancers would seduce to pernicious pleasures the officials and noblemen of the court who had been educated to live in modesty and virtue; and the battle horses and armors would certainly raise the martial instincts of the knights and direct their thoughts to conquest and violence.
But the prince has long wished to break out of the boredom of a well-ordered life, too. The audience hall remains closed to the warning master who has become inconvenient to the prince. In the courtyards of the Yamen merry songs, the sounds of cymbals, string instruments and shawms are heard, and there is laughter of frolicking men and women. In a stupor they celebrate the long desired liberation from virtue. In front of the city gates the former military officers exercise their skills in using arms and mock the students of the master.
For five years Confucius has tried to change human nature. Now he has to realize the futility of his attempts.
After having waited in vain for three days to be granted an audience with the prince, he resigns from his office and quits the court of Lu. Followed by the most loyal of his friends, he leaves his home country, and without any aim he wanders upstream through the vast land of China. He is fifty-five years now and has lost all his hopes.
Rain pour down from the sky, and the clouds fly close over the mountains; sometimes the fog clears up a little and the peaks of the distant mountains can be seen.
In the gorges of the Wei-ho river the waters roar, and foaming yellow floods swirl round the cliffs, fall down rocky barriers and swell beneath the narrow towpath which has been trodden into the rocky walls by generations of porters.
On the narrow and rocky path, which hardly allows room for two men walking side by side, the master wanders with his followers. In silence they trudge beneath the waterfalls that pour down from the rocky walls and burst from the clefts. Their bast coats, which resemble those worn by poor underlings, hardly protect them from the rain which seems to penetrate everything.
When night comes, the tired pilgrims only find a derelict hut, in which they have difficulties in lighting a weak, smoking fire. From the semidarkness Confucius' lamenting words, sometimes drowned by the pouring rain, can be heard.
„The people
and their foolish deeds
are a symbol of the evil of this country.
They have driven me
away from home.
Death and decay is etched into their faces;
virtue escapes to foreign lands.
There I have to travel, too.
The
work of my life is destroyed;
forgotten is everything that I have taught;
homeless must I wander to the very end...“
His favorite disciple Yen-hui tries to comfort him and speaks about the injustice of human fate:
„Oh, how unjust is destiny! A man like you is neglected, but the bad ones go dressed in silk and gold!“
But Confucius has regained his composure again. He warns his student to have awe of superior powers. „We must not struggle with our fate! Heaven does not speak.“
His companions, however, who are in a bad mood because of their hunger and the pouring rain, raise their objections. Dsi-Lu acts as their speaker.
„Master, who shall not despair in a situation like ours? Heaven pours floods of water on us, the river threatens us, cold winds blow from the mountains and nowhere near or far is there any benefactor to sate our hunger.“
„The noble man remains firm in misery,“ Kung repeats, „Only the base man is weak when struck with misery.“
He lies down on the cold, humid floor, covers his face with his woolen garment and closes his eyes.
Again years pass by slowly, like the boulder clay of the Hsin-gan hills. The master is more than sixty years old already. Sometimes he is ill, and often he is tired and exhausted. As in the North of the country there is no place for him to stay, his journey takes him back to the South until he reaches the valley of the Yangtze River. There fever strikes the weak man, he falls seriously ill and for weeks lies sick in a poor farm hut. His misery is unbelievable, and he laments to Yen-hui:
„Oh, if there was just one who would make use of me! After twelve months his land would be much better off, and after three years it would be complete!“
After his recovery all the attempts of Master Kung to find a protector are in vain. The powerful men of the Yellow Empire are not willing to give up pleasure, passion and lust for power in order to adopt the ascetic way of life the master teaches.
After numerous adventures and deprivations Master Kung has nowhere else to go than to the solitude of the mountains in the West. After having wandered through practically all regions and districts of China, the group of pilgrims approaches the jagged mountains of Szechwan. The rivers Yangtze and Jalung roar and thunder through the deep canyons. Only few people dwell in this deserted place, which is infested by wolves, tigers and bears.
Pious eremites, disciples and followers of Taoism, lonely thinkers, magicians, ascetics and escapers from the world dwell in remote caves. They call themselves the »hidden wise men of Lao-tzu«.
High up on the mountains Kung's disciples, while searching for the way, meet two of the most famous eremites of Lao-tzu, the »Ever-resting« and the »Totally-immersed«. The two ascetics are dressed in furs and draw a wooden plough through the stony soil of their fields.
The »Totally-immersed«, a small, hunchbacked old man with a long beard, asks Dsi-Lu, „Who are you and where are you bound for?“
„I am a disciple of the wise Confucius of Lu!“
The eyes of the repentant blink passionately.
„We have heard about him! Isn't he this simple-minded man who tries to tame the streams and to dam the flowing loess? So you follow a master who tries to teach the people. But for you and all the others it would be much better to follow teachings that preach solitude.“
When later Dsi-Lu tells his master about this incident, Kung is deeply moved.
„Oh, Lao-tzu!“ he sighs. „Once again I encounter you in these ascetics! You predicted effort and disappointment to me, but I had to teach humans, for animals and birds don't comprehend me. But if I didn't talk to humans, to whom else should I speak? This world requires a caller!“
Even the silence of the mountains repels him. All searching and wandering is in vain. The master is sixty-eight years when he decides to return to his home country Lu.
The news about his return spread like wildfire. Crowds flock together to greet him, among them many of his former pupils to whom he had once taught the order of life. Only the great ones of the country, the prince, the Mandarins and barons keep silent.
But the fool at the court of Dsou often wears the garment of a wandering scholar and mockingly sings a new song:
O Phoenix! O Phoenix!
How wasted is your life!
The past shall not be reprimanded,
The future will never be reached:
Your song – it is over now and forever!
Confucius smiles, when he hears about the sneering song of the fool. He now knows that his years of wandering and misery have not been in vain. At the age of more than sixty years he has found the measure of all things, and he understands that the world can never be changed by only one single person in one single generation. He no longer makes any attempts to interfere in the machinery of politics as a minister or statesman, but he fosters his teaching and tries to save it for the future by planting it in as many perceiving hearts as possible.
Confucius lives his last years in strenuous work. His four books, the classical Yi-ching, the »Book of Odes«, the Li-Chi, the »Record of Rites«, the collection Xiao-ching, the »Book of Records«, and the history of the State Lu with the title »Spring and Autumn Annals« are completed. For some time the seventy year-old wise man works on his »Book of Changes« – the I-Ching, which is a very mysterious work. It is meant to explain the origin of life, but many of his aphorisms are so dark that even the most gifted of his students do not understand them.
At the age of 73, that is at the same age as his father, Confucius dies and returns to his ancestors. His friends bury his body and guard it for seven days in solemn mourning. Soon afterwards his loyal followers build a temple over his grave. Here the admirers of his teachings gather on solemn occasions, talk about his teachings and play his beloved music. In this sanctuary some of his clothes, hats, lutes and books are kept for a long time.
The Time After Confucius and Lao-tzu
Lao-tzu's school loses itself in romantic and mystic visions. While the world is increasingly prone to decay, the disciples of Tao delve into dark secrets. They live in the mountains as eremites, mortify the flesh and try to master fate through breathing exercises, solitude, meditation and concentration. The people consider these Taoist ascetics as magic priests who are familiar with the powers of heaven and of the world of demons. The eremites of the mountains are feared, because they possess all kinds of wonderful elixirs made from roots and herbs that are said to grant eternal life. On the other hand the rationalists of the classical school, which is targeted at practical benefits and which is practiced above all by Master Kung's successors, turn against these magic myths from which they assume that they can never lead to redemption.
One of the best-known of these philosophers who strives for practicality is Master Mo-tzu. He deeply admires Confucius although he fiercely criticizes the practical inability of Confucius' true followers and against many of Master Kung's teachings, which he rejects because he considers them as idolization and useless idealism. He denies any reasonable usefulness of his rites, ceremonies and sacrifices, yes, he even attacks the master's great love of music.
Mo-tzu's fierce criticism springs from his repeated demand for practical charity.
„What can dead rites and raving music do to us as long as the people suffer of three enormous woes!“ he writes painfully. „The hungry have nothing to eat, the freezing have nothing to wear and the toiling have no peace and quiet. Can they be given food or clothes by simply playing the pipes and flutes to them?“
His appeal in favor of humaneness is deeply moving and anticipates ideas which only appear in the Western world much later.
„Do to your neighbor as you would like to be done to. If your neighbor starves, give him to eat; if he freezes, give him clothes; if he is ill, nurse him; and if he dies, bury him!“
But philosophical systems cannot change the world, especially when they, as is the case with Mo-tzu's philosophy, scare the crowds because of their dogmatic severity and if they violate the love for formulas and rules which is so deeply anchored in the thoughts of the Chinese people.
In this time of decaying philosophy, the ideas of the wise man Yang-chu who comes from Southern China, find much better acceptance. They demand »total life« which must not be disturbed by ambition or lust for profit, nor by too much activity. This approach thus represents a turn away from inevitable and self-tormenting chastity.
„A hundred years,“ says master Yang-chu, „are the absolute limit to a long lifetime. That some man becomes a hundred years old, happens once in a thousand cases. Supposing there was such a case: childhood that is spent in the mother's arms, and dumb senility consume about half of one's lifetime. The time we spend unconscious while asleep and while away during the day consumes nearly the other half. Shall the rest of our time pass by in disease, pain, sadness and worry? Maybe there are ten years of merry satisfaction left, but even then there is hardly any carefree hour. What is human life? What are its pleasures?“
He assumes that Man has a natural right to enjoy, to dream and to rejoice whenever he has the chance to do so. For Yang-chu true peace of the mind and freedom from fear and pain seem to be utmost completion.
It is a strange coincidence that nearly at the same time the School of Carvakas in India and the School of Epicure of Samos in Greece evolve, which both praise as true bliss enjoyment of one's life in a carefree way.