The Confucian Analects and the Works of Mencius differ in their construction from the Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean, both of which are continuous treatises by individual authors; whereas the two first named are records of the sayings and doings of the two sages, compiled from memory by their faithful disciples, and somewhat resemble in construction, but at a vast interval, the plan of the Gospel narrative.
We have dwelt at some length on the classics, because, since they are the sacred books of China, it is natural to suppose that in them we may find the mainspring of the national literature. Unfortunately, to some extent this is the case and Confucius has much to answer for, both as regards his teaching and the literary model he bequeathed to his countrymen. Instead of encouraging his disciples to think for themselves, to look into their own hearts, and to acquire that personal knowledge that enables a man to stand alone, he led them out both by precept and example into the dreary waste of cold formalism, in which all individuality is lost, and all force and originality of thinking is crushed out. It may be said that, as far as his teachings were concerned, he strove to suit his system to the capacity of his audience; and that he was successful in so doing is proved by the fact that for twenty-two centuries his name has been revered and his precepts have been followed by his countrymen of whatever rank and station in life.
As has been well observed by Wells Williams, “If Confucius had transmitted to posterity such works as the Iliad, the De Officiis, or the Dialogues of Plato, he would no doubt have taken a higher rank among the commanding intellects of the world; but it may be reasonably doubted whether his influence among his own countrymen would have been as good or as lasting. The variety and minuteness of his instructions for the nurture and education of children, the stress he lays upon filial duty, the detail of etiquette and conduct he gives for the intercourse of all classes and ranks in society, characterize his writings from those of all philosophers in other countries, who, comparitively speaking, gave small thought to the education of the young. The Four Books and the Five Classics would not, as far as regards their intrinsic character in comparison with other productions, be considered anything more than curiosities in literature, for their antiquity and language, were it not for the incomparable influence they have exerted over so many millions of minds.”
But no such apology can be offered for the example he set them in the substance and style of his writings. And we are forced to the conclusion that, though a man of great force of character, he was yet strangely devoid of imagination, and that, in his blind admiration for the ancients, he constrained himself to walk humbly and passively in the paths that had been traced by others. At all events he has done his countrymen an irreparable injury. The inflexible sterility of the earliest specimens of literature might possibly have been the characteristic of a particular phase in the national mind, but Confucius helped to perpetuate it throughout all generations. As might be expected, in no class of the literature is the effect thus produced more apparent than in the commentaries on the classics. These works are to be numbered by thousands, and, with some few exceptions, they are, as has been said of the writings of the scribes at the time of our Lord, cold in manner, second-hand and iterative in their very essence; with no freshness in them, no force, no fire; servile to all authority, opposed to all independence; never passing a hair's-breadth beyond the carefully-watched boundary line of precedent; full of balanced inference and orthodox hesitancy, and impossible literalism; elevating mere memory above genius, and repetition above originality.
But whatever may be the shortcoming of Confucius as a writer, the respect he felt and inculcated for letters gave an impetus to literature. Following the example he set, men began to compile the histories of the various states and authors with a turn for more original composition, busied themselves with the production of works on such arts and sciences, including medicine, mathematics, law, and husbandry, as were known to them. It was just as this new industry was beginning to flourish that the Emperor Che Hwang-ti, to whom reference has already been made, an able and ambitious prince, ascended the throne. By a judicious mixture of force and diplomacy, he abolished the feudal states, into which the empire had up to his time been divided, and drew all power and authority into his own hands.
Estimating the traditions of the past to be almost as potent as Confucius had supposed, and for that very reason deeming them as dangerous to the existence of his rule as Confucius had considered them to be beneficial to the empire, he determined to break with them once and for ever. He therefore issued an order that all books should be burned, except those containing records of his own reign; that all who dared to speak together about the Book of Odes or the Book of History (harmless subjects enough, one would think) should be put to death, and their bodies exposed in the market-place; that those who should make mention of the past, so as to blame the present, should be put to death along with their relatives; and that any one possessing a book after the lapse of thirty days from the issuing of the ordinance should be branded and sent to labour on the Great Wall for four years. The publication of this edict was followed shortly afterwards by an order for the execution of upwards of 460 scholars who had failed to obey the mandate of the emperor.
Curiously enough it was during the reign of this uncompromising enemy to literature that the brush-pencil as at present used in China for writing purposes, was invented, an invention which implies that about this time a substitute was found for the bamboo tablets which had up to that period served the purposes of paper. At first this new material was a kind of closely woven silk. But this was soon found to be as unsuitable for general purposes from its expense as the tablets had been from their cumbrousness; and shortly after the establishment of the Han dynasty, when the decrees of Che Hwang-ti were reversed and every encouragement was given by the state to men of letters, the Marquis Tsae “invented the manufacture of paper from the inner bark of trees, ends of hemp, old rags, and fishing-nets.” The increased facility thus afforded for the multiplication of books was eagerly taken advantage of; and from the Annals of the Han dynasty, 206 B.C. to 25 A.D., we learn that the imperial library of that reigning house consisted of 3123 sections on the classics, 2705 on philosophy, 1318 of poetry, 790 on military affairs, 2528 on mathematics, and 868 on medicine. But at the end of the second century an insurrection, which brought the Han dynasty to a close, gave another check to the growing literary taste. And though the then reigning emperor, in his flight from his capital at Lo-yang, attempted to carry off the contents of the imperial library, only half the books reached their destination at Chang-gan, and the remnant was shortly after given to the flames by the successful revolutionists.
