The Analects
Page 27
14.2 The Master said, “An educated professional who longs for [the ease he finds at] home does not live up to the name of an educated professional [shi].”
Here Confucius again returns to the subject of shi (士): to the question of who is qualified to have a career in government. But instead of talking about character and skills, he is looking at this man’s emotions and his attachments: if such a person still yearns for his home—for his wife and children and for the ease he finds in his home—then he is short of being a shi. For a man who is truly qualified for government service will “set his mind on realizing humaneness and rightness,” Liu Baonan explains. This means that he will be ready to go wherever his responsibilities take him and will be able to resist the tug toward home. The urge to go home has been an important theme in the writings of the Chinese scholar-officials. And that urge gets stronger and becomes harder to resist when the moral way does not prevail in the state. Confucius must have been aware of this fact, and probably for this reason he wanted to be very clear about who was able to fulfill the idea of a shi.
14.3 The Master said, “When a state is governed according to the moral way, be exact [wei] in speech and action. When the state is not governed according to the moral way, be exact in action but soften your speech.”
When the moral way prevails in the state, one can afford to take a chance and be exact (wei) in speech and conduct. (Wei means, literally, to risk the danger of standing on a high place.) When the moral way does not prevail in the state, one should be exact in conduct but tactful in speech. This was Confucius’ advice for those in government service. And to follow it or not could mean the difference between life and death. Here again we find a point of agreement between him and the fourth-century BC thinker Zhuangzi, who, in the voice of Confucius, says, “If you appear before a tyrant and force him to listen to sermons on humaneness and rightness . . . you will be called a pest. He who pesters others will be pestered in return.”
14.4 The Master said, “A person who has integrity is sure to have something to say, but a person who has something to say does not necessarily have integrity. A person who is humane is sure to possess courage, but a person who possesses courage is not necessarily humane.”
Liu Baonan writes in his commentary, “Integrity [de] is not made apparent through words [yan]. Humaneness [ren] is not made apparent through courage [yong]. Yet according to Confucius, there must be people who possess integrity or humaneness. These virtues, therefore, are disclosed and inferred through one’s talent and natural propensities.” And in Liu’s view, Xunzi gives the “fullest and the clearest” explication of Confucius’ statements here. But on the question of words and integrity, I think, Xunzi goes further than Confucius. Xunzi feels that if a person “is reluctant to speak and takes no pleasure in speaking,” even though his conduct “is modeled after the former kings” and “dictated by ritual propriety and rightness,” he “is not the best man to serve in government.” A gentleman must engage in moral persuasion, is Xunzi’s point, and so he has no choice but to take part in arguments and debates. Xunzi also explains in a separate essay why a humane man is sure to possess courage: “This man likes to share his joys with the world when the world recognizes him, but he will stand alone without fear when the world does not recognize him.” Xunzi considers the courage exemplified by a humane man to be the “highest kind” even though it does not dazzle and is not loud and explosive.
14.5 Nangong Kuo said to Confucius, “Yi was a fine archer, and Ao [was strong enough to] overturn the boats [of his enemies], yet neither was able to die a natural death. Yu and Hou Ji personally planted seeds in the field and were able to gain possession of an empire.” The Master made no reply.
After Nangong Kuo had left, the Master said, “A gentleman, this man. An example of the highest virtue, this man!”
There have been several conjectures about the identity of Nangong Kuo. The Song scholar Zhu Xi says that he was Nan Rong, who appears in 5.2 and 11.6. The Han scholar Kong Anguo says that he was the Lu counselor Nangong Jingshu. Liu Baonan thinks that they are both wrong, but he does feel that Nangong was an aristocrat, because surnames such as Nangong (South Palace), Beigong (North Palace), Donggong (East Palace), and Xigong (West Palace) were common appellations for scions of hereditary families.
The more interesting question, however, has to do with the story of the archer Yi and the strongman Ao. Both men, according to the history in the Zuo Commentary, were figures from the Xia dynasty. Yi was a hunter and a local chieftain. He, by means of his warrior stance, was able to overshadow the authority of the ruler of Xia with his own. But eventually he became complacent, and he let his disciple Hancu handle all his business while he pursued animals in the wild. One day, as Yi was coming home from the hunt, Hancu had him killed. Hancu then had Yi cooked in a stew and served to Yi’s son. The House of Yi was China’s own House of Atreus. Yi’s murderer fathered two sons with Yi’s wives. One of the sons was Ao. Ao, like his father, could raise hell of his own. In a battle against another tribe, he singlehandedly capsized the enemy boats. But this warrior also ended his life badly—at the hands of a man whose father he had killed. In the same passage, Nangong Kuo also introduces Yu and Hou Ji. They represent another kind of man. Yu tamed the flood and was the founder of the Xia dynasty; Hou Ji taught farming and was the progenitor of the Zhou people. Both men worked in the field, sowing seeds and tending crops, and they came to possess an empire. By contrasting how the hunter and the agriculturist, the warrior and the driver of civilization, each fared in the end, Nangong Kuo makes his point, and so Confucius feels that he has nothing to add except that he thinks Nangong Kuo is a gentleman.
14.6 The Master said, “A gentleman but not humane, there are such examples. But there has never been a petty man who is humane.”
Confucius feels strongly that only a few persons can be called humane (ren). Even when a person is “not competitive, boastful, begrudging, or covetous,” he resists calling him humane. He says in 4.6 that, in fact, he has “never seen a person who truly loved humaneness or a person who was truly repelled by the lack of humaneness,” although he is sure that all humans have the strength to devote themselves “to the practice of humaneness.” Such is the paradox in the human pursuit of the good. The gentleman would take his quest seriously, but even he could falter, for, as Confucius’ disciple Zengzi observes, “the burden is heavy, and the road is long.”
14.7 The Master said, “When you love someone, how can you not encourage him to work hard? When you want to do your best for someone, how can you not try to instruct him [to do the right thing]?”
Some scholars think that the first part of this remark was intended for the ruler and his officials, who were meant to spur the people on and to stop them from slacking. The second part, they say, was addressed to the counselors, who were bound by their duty to remonstrate with the ruler when he faltered. But Liu Baonan feels that there is no need to make such a distinction. What Confucius said here, in Liu’s view, could be applied to the local official who was administering a district or a counselor who was advising the ruler at court. In fact, Liu says, a person would want to do both if he genuinely cared for the other person: like “a kindly father toward his child,” he would encourage him to work hard (lao) and he would guide him to the right path (hui).
14.8 The Master said, “In preparing for a diplomatic agreement, Pi Chen would compose a draft in the wild; Shi Shu would discuss it; Ziyu, the master of protocol, would revise it; and Zichan of the Eastern Village would put on the final touches.”
We have already learned in 5.16 how Confucius felt about Zichan, the counselor from the state of Zheng, who preceded him by about a hundred years. Here and in the next entry, he talks not only about the admiration he had for this man but also about how Zichan worked with other counselors and the kind of political environment he created in the state of Zheng. One can find a similar description of the above in the history in the Zuo Commentary, where it is said, “In admin
istering a government, Zichan selected the capable and gave them responsibilities.” And on his staff was one Pi Chen, the record says. This man “was good at strategizing,” but ideas would come to him only “when he worked in the wild” because his mind “would draw a blank when he was in the city.” This explains why Confucius says that when being put in charge of preparing a diplomatic agreement, Pi Chen would write his draft “in the wild.”
14.9 Someone asked about Zichan. The Master said, “He was a generous and a caring man.”
He asked about Zixi. The Master said, “That man! That man!”
He asked about Guan Zhong. The Master said, “He was a man [ren]. After Guan Zhong seized control of the district of Pian, which had three hundred households, from the head of the Bo family, Bo was reduced to living on coarse rice, yet, to the end of his days, he had nothing resentful to say.”
Confucius’ admiration for Zichan must have been broadly known, for his accolades were also recorded in the history in the Zuo Commentary. Yet not everyone agreed with his assessment of Zichan, not even Mencius, Confucius’ staunchest defender. Mencius also thought Zichan “a generous and caring man” but so much so that in the winter if he saw people having a hard time crossing a frozen river, he would take them across in his carriage. Why did he not simply build a bridge for them? Mencius asked. It must have been that “Zichan did not know how to govern.” Most scholars think that Mencius’ argument was thin and his example trivial. On the question of Guan Zhong, too, Mencius, could be disparaging. He said that Guan Zhong was the kind of counselor not worth emulating. Yet Confucius accorded Guan Zhong the highest praise, defending his conduct as “humane,” ren (仁), in 14.16 and 14.17, and calling him here “a man,” ren (人), which, scholars thought, was synonymous with “being humane,” ren. Just how do we account for the differences of opinion between Confucius and Mencius regarding Zichan and Guan Zhong? This is the kind of question that requires longer study. Still, it is interesting to note the large stock Confucius put in counselors like Zichan and Guan Zhong—men whose conduct at times had been deemed suspect and even wrongful. Zichan, as soon as he took office, bribed the powerful to keep them content so that they would be willing to work with him. And Guan Zhong chose to serve Duke Huan of Qi, a man who had murdered his own brother (and Guan Zhong’s lord). Why was Confucius willing to overlook such irregularities? Did he feel that moral questions of a lesser order—questions that could end up being obstructive—should not be asked of men bound for greater things? And as for the head of the Bo family, he was a counselor of Qi. When Guan Zhong decided to shift his loyalty to Duke Huan, the latter offered him Bo’s fief. Scholars thought that Bo must have committed some grave misdeed to see all of his property confiscated, and that he must also have recognized something extraordinary in Kuan Zhong and so he held no rancor.
Finally, there is the question of Zixi. He was a counselor from Zheng. Scholars, however, were not interested in who he was but in what Confucius said when his name was mentioned. Bizai, bizai (“That man! That man!”), they thought, implied that this person, in Confucius’ view, was inconsequential.
14.10 The Master said, “It is difficult to be poor and not resentful, and easier to be rich and not arrogant.”
Some scholars believe that this refers to the head of the Bo family in the previous entry—that after he was stripped of his possessions, he was not bitter, which, Confucius thought, was admirable. But Liu Baonan thinks that the comment was directed at the ruler, to let him know how difficult it was for people to live in poverty. Perhaps it was for this reason that Confucius says in 13.9, first “make the people rich” and then “instruct them.”
14.11 The Master said, “Meng Gongchuo would be an excellent retainer in the family of Chao or Wei, but he could not possibly be a [good] counselor in the state of Teng or Xue.”
Here Confucius acts like a casting director for the political stage. Meng Gongchuo was a hereditary counselor in the state of Lu and so could not possibly be a retainer for the Chaos or the Weis, which were hereditary families in the state of Jin. Nevertheless, Confucius imagined how Meng Gongchuo would fare in such a role, and since he had worked with this man, he knew that being an elderly retainer in either family would suit him well because the Chaos and the Weis greatly appreciated worthy men, of which Meng Gongchuo was one. But being a counselor in a small state like Teng or Xue, even with the formal title of daifu, would be disastrous for Meng, who treasured solitude and quiet reflection, for there would be too many tedious affairs to take care of.
14.12 Zilu asked about the complete man. The Master said, “A man with the knowledge of Zang Wuzhong, as devoid of greed as Meng Gongchuo, as courageous as Zhuangzi of Bian, as skilled in the arts as Ran Qiu, and then further refined by rites and music—he could be considered a complete man.”
The Master [paused and then] continued, “But why does a complete man of our times need to be like that? If he is mindful of what is right when he sees profit, is ready to lay down his life when faced with danger, and does not forget what he said as a youth about promises made long ago, he can well be a complete man.”
One could say that Confucius lowered the standard of a complete man for the people of his times, but as a statement, this is also more tangible and more forceful than the measures he proposed at first. The sentiment that is particularly memorable—“[if he] does not forget what he said as a youth [pingsheng] about promises made long ago [jiuyao]”—could have a different reading, “[if he] does not forget the words he has repeated all his life even when he is experiencing protracted hardship,” if one were to understand pingsheng to mean “all one’s life” and jiuyao to mean “protracted hardship.”
As for the four men mentioned above, we have already learned about Meng Gongchuo in 14.11, and Confucius’ disciple Ran Qiu should be familiar by now. Zhuangzi of Bian was well known in Confucius’ time for his strength and bravery. He could wrestle two tigers at a time, according to one story, but he also had a tendency to go too far even when his intentions were good. In fact, this was how he met his death: in order to prove his loyalty to the ruler, one early source says, he charged the enemy time and again, even after his ruler had told him to stop, and he was finally cut down after he had killed seventy men. Zang Wuzhong had a similar problem, though he was a very different kind of man. Like his grandfather Zang Wenzhong, someone Confucius refers to in 5.18, he was very smart, but in spite of this he managed to offend the powerful Jisun and Mengsun families of Lu and so had to flee to Qi; and just as the ruler of Qi was ready to offer him a fief, he again did something ungracious, and the gift was withdrawn. Confucius is quoted in the Zuo Commentary as having said, “It is difficult to handle one’s knowledge and intelligence [even when one has them]. It was not without reason that the state of Lu could not put up with a man who had Zang Wuzhong’s knowledge and intelligence. [He was driven out] because his behavior was disagreeable and lacking in the principle of reciprocity.” Zang Wuzhong, Zhuangzi of Bian, and Ran Qiu all had extraordinary talents, but without the refinement of music and the rites, they remained incomplete.
14.13 The Master asked Gongming Jia about Gongshu Wenzi, saying, “Is it true that your master did not speak, did not laugh, and did not take anything?”
Gongming Jia replied, “Whoever told you that must have exaggerated. My master spoke only when it was the right time for him to speak, and so others were not tired of him speaking. He laughed when he was happy, and so others were not tired of him laughing. He only took when it was right for him to take, and so others were not upset about his taking.”
The Master said, “So it was like this. Or was it like this [and so people thought that he did not speak, did not laugh, and did not take anything]?”
Gongshu Wenzi was Gongsun Ba, a counselor from the state of Wei and a slightly older contemporary of Confucius. After he died, the Book of Rites says, the ruler of Wei honored him with the posthumous title of wenzi (“the refined one”) for the compassion, loyalty, and civili
ty he had displayed in his service to the state. Confucius did not have a chance to meet him, but he heard about him, and here he asks Gongming Jia whether it is true that Gongshu Wenzi “did not speak, did not laugh, and did not take anything.” After Gongming Jia tells him why one might have said this about Gongshu Wenzi, Confucius’ initial response seems favorable—“So it was like this [qiran].” But then he repeats the sentence, this time as a question—“Or was it like this?”—which suggests that he did not believe that this was the reason why Gongshu Wenzi had a reputation for not speaking, not laughing, and not taking anything.
14.14 The Master said, “Zang Wuzhong used his fief, a town called Fang, to bargain [with his ruler] for an heir [to continue the Zang family line] in Lu. Although he claimed that he did not coerce his lord to accept the deal, I do not believe it.”
Confucius says in 14.12 that Zang Wuzhong, the head of the Zang family, was a man of exceptional knowledge, but then he also says in the Zuo Commentary that in his conduct this man could go too far and be his own worst enemy. In 550 BC, Zang Wuzhong was forced to leave home after he bungled his relationship with the power brokers of Lu. And according to records in the Zuo Commentary, before he crossed the border into Qi, he sent a message to his ruler, asking the latter to grant his family an heir so that “the sacrifices to his ancestors could be continued,” and in exchange, he said, he would give up Fang, a town that had been in his family’s possession for generations. The ruler accepted the deal and allowed Zang Wuzhong’s half brother to succeed him as head of the Zangs. Here Confucius seems to question the moral ground of this transaction.