The Analects

by Confucius

  The textual discussion in most commentaries is about the meaning of zugong () because the word zu () could mean either “more than enough” or “feet.” If zu is understood as “more than enough,” then zugong becomes “overly courteous,” which is the Song scholar Zhu Xi’s reading. Most other scholars think that zu refers to “feet.” Zugong, therefore, means “shuffling one’s feet,” “moving backward and forward,” “bobbing up and down”—either out of nervous servility or because one is anxious to please. This reading can be corroborated with the Book of Documents and the Book of Rites, where references to how one speaks, looks, and moves one’s feet are often grouped together in discussions about a person’s conduct. The Book of Rites says, “A gentleman, in his relationship to others, does not overstep as he moves his feet [zu ] and holds his facial expression [se ] and his words [yan ] to the proper measure.” Descriptions of Confucius in 10.2, 10.3, 10.4, and 10.5 could serve as examples.

  The other topic that scholars raise in their commentaries has to do with the identity of Zuoqiu Ming, whether he was Zuo Qiuming, the historian considered to be the author of the Zuo Commentary. This is a difficult question, but they were probably not the same person, for one had the double-barreled surname Zuoqiu and the other did not, and the Zuoqiu Ming that Confucius referred to was either an older contemporary or someone who lived earlier—certainly someone Confucius admired—and Mr. Zuo of the Zuo Commentary, according to most scholars, was either someone much younger than Confucius or someone from an even later generation.

  5.26 Yan Yuan [Yan Hui] and Jilu [Zilu] were in attendance. Confucius said, “Why don’t you each tell me what you would like to see yourself accomplish [erzhi]?”

  Zilu said, “I would like to share my carriages and horses, my clothes and furs with my friends, and, even if these things became worn, to have no regrets.”

  Yan Yuan said, “I would like never to boast of any good points I might have and never to claim credit for work I might have done for others [wushilao].”

  Zilu said, “We would like to hear what you would like to see yourself accomplish.”

  The Master said, “To give comfort to the old, to have the trust of my friends, and to have the young seeking to be near me [huaizhi].”

  Confucius in 11.26 asks his disciples a similar question, but there his question elicits a different kind of response, one that has to do with personal ambitions. Here Zilu and Yan Hui are talking about a deeper sense of attainment—characteristics they hope to find in themselves. And Confucius responds to Zilu in the same vein about what he would like to see himself accomplish, but what he says shows that he is worried not just about the state of his personal virtue. The old, the young, and his equals are all in his thoughts, and each has a place in his private moral universe.

  The Song scholar Zhu Xi disagrees with the Han reading of wushilao (), which Kong Anguo explains as “not to make great demands on others.” Zhu Xi argues that shi could also mean “to exaggerate,” “to claim credit,” and that wushilao, “not to claim credit for the work you have done for others,” resonates with wufashan, “not to exaggerate your good points.” Commentaries also dwell on the meaning of huai (). They ask just what sort of relationship Confucius wanted with the young. Kong Anguo says huai is gui, “to return to,” “to feel a sense of belonging to a person or a place.” Which, Liu Baonan explains, “means that, having received the benefits of his instruction, the young were drawn to [Confucius] as if he were their father or teacher.”

  5.27 Confucius said, “It’s hopeless! I have yet to see anyone who could recognize his mistakes and take himself to task privately.”

  Liu Baonan writes, “Confucius expressed regret that he ‘had not seen a person who truly loved humaneness or a person who was truly repelled by the lack of humaneness.’ Here he again expressed regret that he ‘had not seen anyone who [could recognize his mistakes and] take himself to task privately.’ Thus most important for a person who is committed to learning is to know to correct his mistakes, which is also most difficult to carry out.” To do this, this person has to be “utterly sincere in his intention,” which, Liu stresses, “is not the same as expressing regret about his mistake or even blaming himself for it.” And only “when he is alone,” Liu says, will he be able “to see himself honestly” and “grasp the urgency of self-reform.”

  5.28 The Master said, “In a village of ten households, surely there are those who are as willing to do their best and are as trustworthy as I am. But there is no one who loves learning as much as I do.”

  Most scholars turn Confucius’ remark into a lesson on the importance of learning: that it is not enough just to do one’s best and be trustworthy, though “they are fine human qualities,” but that “in order to reach higher,” “to become a sage,” one needs to learn. I, however, believe that Confucius loved learning not just to ennoble his character. He loved learning the correct pronunciation of a poem, and he loved learning a new song he had just heard and liked. Learning gave him pleasure, in fact, so much so that he thought, “there is no one who loves learning as much as I do.”

  BOOK SIX

  6.1 The Master said, “Yong [Zhonggong] could be given a seat facing south.”

  Confucius, in 11.3, describes his disciple Zhonggong as someone who is “virtuous in conduct.” Here, he says that Zhonggong has the integrity fit to be a ruler—fit to be given a seat facing south—should such a position be offered to him. But just who was Zhonggong? What hidden power and what gift of talents did he possess to merit such high praise from his teacher? The Analects offers little help, but from the few recorded conversations he had with Confucius and the high standing Xunzi accorded him in his own writing, calling him the true heir of Confucius, it is clear that Zhonggong was someone to be reckoned with, even though the evidence either was lost or was deliberately suppressed. A text bearing Zhonggong’s name surfaced recently from among the excavated materials of the Warring States period. After the initial excitement about the discovery, scholars have found that the text does not add much to what is in the Analects and the Recorded Conversations from the Private Collection of the Kong Family (Kongzi jiayu), a Han dynasty text in which Zhonggong makes a few appearances.

  6.2 Zhonggong asked about Zisang Bozi. The Master said, “He is all right in his simple approach.”

  Zhonggong said, “To preside over the people with a reverent attitude and simple measures—is this not all right? But if a person who takes simple measures is also uninhibitedly simple [in the way he carries himself], is this not taking simplicity to an extreme?”

  Here Zhonggong gives his insight about who would make a good ruler: the person’s governing style should be simple, not complicated or convoluted, but he must have gravity, which he cannot hope to possess if he carries himself with uninhibited simplicity. From this conversation, it seems that Zisang Bozi cannot have been such a ruler. And who was this man? Some said that he was Sang Hu, a man from the recluse tradition, who appears in the Zhuangzi and the Songs of Chu; others thought that he was a counselor from the state of Qin. These are all conjectures. A later construct of this man is found in the Han source World of Stories (Shuoyuan), where Zisang appears without a stitch on when Confucius comes to pay him a visit and the conversation between them is built on the Analects but with a shift in emphasis, from the problem of “taking simplicity to an extreme” to the importance of applying the right amount of refinement so that “the beauty of one’s native substance is not lost.”

  6.3 Duke Ai asked, “Who among your disciples love learning?”

  Confucius responded, saying, “There was Yan Hui, who loved learning. He did not transfer his anger elsewhere, and he did not repeat a mistake. But unfortunately he had a short life and is dead now. Since his death, there is no one left who loves learning—at least I haven’t heard of anyone.”

  Yan Hui’s love of learning is attested to by what Confucius says about him in 2.9 and 6.11, what Zigong says in 5.9, and what he says about himself in 9.11. But how c
ould the fact that Yan Hui did not shift the focus of his anger and the fact that he did not make the same mistake twice be related to his love for learning? These virtues were a testament to Yan Hui’s love of learning, Liu Baonan says, and to the fact that Yan Hui regarded the cultivation of his character as the point of learning.

  Yan Hui was about thirty years younger than Confucius. He was one of Confucius’ traveling companions during the latter’s years of exile. He died probably around 482 BC, at the age of forty-one, just two years after Duke Ai invited Confucius to come home to Lu and a year after the death of Confucius’ own son, Boyu.

  6.4 Zihua [Gongxi Hua] was sent on a mission to the state of Qi. Ran Qiu asked [their employer], on behalf of Zihua’s mother, for an allowance of grain. [He checked first with Confucius about what might be an appropriate amount, and] the Master said, “Give her a fu.” Ran Qiu asked for more. The Master said, “Add another yu.” Ran Qiu in the end gave her five bing.

  Confucius said, “Chi [Gongxi Hua] went off to Qi, drawn by firm-fleshed horses and sporting a light fur gown. I have heard it said, ‘A gentleman is busy finding ways to help the poor and desperate—he does not try to top up the supply [in the storehouse] of the rich.’”

  Confucius was perhaps most critical of Ran Qiu, of all his disciples, and most unforgiving of his behavior, for reasons I have explained in my commentary on 3.6. Here is one more example of why Ran Qiu may have enraged him. Gongxi Hua was flush, and so his mother did not really need the five bing Ran Qiu was able to procure for her. Scholars cannot quite agree as to just how much a fu, a yu, or a bing was. According to Qian Mu’s calculation, a fu was enough for a person to live on for a month, while a bing was a hundredfold more than a fu. And so what could have been Ran Qiu’s intent in asking for so much grain for Gongxi Hua’s family? To ingratiate himself with Gongxi Hua or to make him even richer? Gongxi Hua was also a disciple of Confucius. Like Ran Qiu, he worked with the Jisun family and with the ruler of Lu, and he was often sent on diplomatic missions because of his impressive knowledge of the rituals. Confucius does not have kind words for him here, but from the other accounts in the Analects, Gongxi Hua seems to have been affable and unassuming. The Book of Rites says that he was put in charge of Confucius’ funeral.

  6.5 Yuan Si, upon becoming a district steward, was offered a salary of nine hundred measures of grain. He declined.

  The Master said, “Don’t refuse it. Can you not share it with the people in your village and in the neighboring communities?”

  Yuan Si is Confucius’ disciple Yuan Xian. Scholars like to contrast his behavior here with Ran Qiu’s in the entry above. While Ran Qiu was overly generous with the public funds and was eager to use them to benefit friends who were already living in comfortable circumstances, Yuan Si was overly cautious about what was offered to him even in the case of a well-deserved salary. Yuan Si’s fear was that the sum was too large (grain harvested from 450 mu, or about seventy acres, according to some calculations) and so might be perceived as improper. To the two disciples, Confucius says: Why not think about the people in need? And to help them, Ran Qiu should stop enriching the already wealthy and Yuan Si should accept what is rightfully his and share it with “the people in [his] village and in the neighboring communities.”

  6.6 The Master, speaking about Zhonggong, said, “If the offspring of a plough ox has a reddish coat and perfectly formed horns, even if we won’t use it in a sacrifice, would the spirit of mountains and rivers refuse to accept it?”

  Zhonggong was like the offspring of a plough ox—his father worked in the field—but he was born with a beautiful character, like the calf born with “a reddish coat and perfectly formed horns.” And so, even if humans were to rebuff him, the divine spirits would have accepted him as one of them. Thus, Confucius says in 6.1, Zhonggong could be given the seat of the Son of Heaven. He, of course, is speaking not just about Zhonggong but about any person like Zhonggong: his provenance would not matter if he had the making of someone great.

  6.7 Confucius said, “Hui [Yan Hui] lets his heart abide in humaneness for three months at a time without straying from it. Others can do it only now and then.”

  “Yan Hui,” Qian Mu writes, “is able to find a home in humaneness,” and so is able to stay with it for three months at a time, which is “the duration of a season.” “And when the season changes, he might go away from it for a bit,” but he always returns to humaneness, and so “it is as if he has never left it.” Others, Qian Mu says, “may desire humaneness and be drawn to it time and again,” but they will wander off because “they are unable to make humaneness their home.”

  6.8 Ji Kangzi asked, “Is Zhongyou [Zilu] qualified to hold government office?”

  The Master said, “Zhongyou is decisive. What difficulty would he have in handling government affairs?”

  “What about Si [Zigong]? Will he do?”

  “Si is perceptive—he has a piercing mind. What difficulty would he have in handling government affairs?”

  “What about Qiu [Ran Qiu]? Is he qualified to hold office?”

  “Qiu has many skills. What difficulty would he have in handling government affairs?”

  Confucius, at this stage in his life, had given up altogether his own political ambitions. He had just come home from his exile. The people of Lu regarded him as their “elder statesman,” the Zuo Commentary says, which explains why their ruler, Duke Ai, and his chief counselor, Ji Kangzi, would consult him about official appointments and their own policies. Here three of Confucius’ disciples are being discussed for government jobs. Confucius sums up their strengths, all of which, he thinks, would be a good fit for the demands of office. And since Zilu, Zigong, and Ran Qiu all spent time with him during his years of travel, it must have been Confucius who helped to prepare them for their careers in politics.

  6.9 The Ji family wanted to make Min Ziqian the steward of Bi. Min Ziqian said [to the messenger], “Please decline it nicely for me. If they summon me again, I shall be north of the River Wen.”

  The town of Bi had been in the possession of the Jisuns since 659 BC, when the ruler of Lu gave it to the head of the family as a reward for having successfully defeated an army from a neighboring state. During Confucius’ lifetime, several stewards of this city, who were also the family’s private retainers, using Bi as their base, took up arms against their employer. Perhaps because this town was associated with rebellions and troublemaking, the gentle and affable Min Ziqian, whom Confucius described elsewhere as “virtuous in conduct,” decided to refuse the offer of becoming the town’s steward. Confucius himself was different from Min Ziqian. At one time he even contemplated working with a retainer in the Jisun family whom he knew to be planning an insurrection. Confucius was not afraid to get into murky water because he was confident that he would come out clean. Min Ziqian, however, would rather run to the other side of Wen, the river that marked the boundary of Lu and Qi.

  6.10 Boniu was ill. The Master went to ask how he was. Holding his hand through the window, the Master said, “We are going to lose him! Such is the force of destiny, that this man should have this illness, that this man should have this illness.”

  Confucius also considered Boniu (Ran Geng) “virtuous in conduct,” and he put him in the same category with Yan Hui, Zhonggong, and Min Ziqian, three disciples who also appear in this chapter. The Han scholars believe that Boniu contracted some unsightly disease, and so Confucius’ visit was limited to holding his hand through the window. Others, however, think that because Boniu was seriously ill, “Confucius, out of politeness, decided not to go into his room and, instead, to hold his hand through the window.” These details might have been important to some, but it is Confucius’ utterance that carries the weight of this occasion. Confucius rarely spoke of death and did not seem at all vexed by the fact that we all have to die. But he lost his composure when Yan Hui died and he also does so here, when he realizes that Boniu is dying. His lament is that of a teacher and of a father, and his ind
ignation has an obscure object, which the Chinese called “destiny,” “the inevitable,” ming: Why take a life, he asks, while it is young and full of promise?

  6.11 The Master said, “What an extraordinary man was Hui [Yan Hui]! Living in a shabby neighborhood on a bowlful of millet and a ladleful of water—most people could not have endured such misery, but Hui did not let it take anything away from his joy. What an extraordinary man was Hui!”

  Yan Hui was that rare being who was content with any circumstances of life. Deprivation could not have troubled him because he could not take his mind off those things that were of greater importance to him. He was born with a proclivity toward the good and a love for learning that was unstoppable no matter how trying it was for him to grasp what he was meant to understand.

  6.12 Ran Qiu said, “It is not that I am not pleased with my teacher’s way. It’s just that my strength fails me.”

  The Master said, “Those whose strength fails them collapse along the way. You draw a line first [to tell yourself how far you are willing to go].”

  Descriptions of Ran Qiu’s behavior in 3.6 and 11.17 could give support to Confucius’ perception of him as someone who drew a line about what he could or could not accomplish in matters that tested his moral courage. Ran Qiu was a contrast to Yan Hui, who loved his teacher’s way and who also found it hard to put it into practice. But Yan Hui says in 9.11, “I cannot stop even if I want to,” and his quest came to an end only because he died. Liu Baonan believes that death was what Confucius meant by having one’s strength give out. Confucius’ disciple Zengzi explains it in this way: “The gentleman takes the fulfillment of his humaneness as his burden. Is it not heavy? Only with death does his road come to an end. Is it not long?”