seen how he stood by his obligations in the midst of his misfortunes, and how he strove to realise in his transactions the high integrity which he admired and recommended in his teachings. He is the same man in his life as in his writings. In these he has a keen regard for whatsoever is graphic, interesting, and effective. Though he hopes to instruct, he desires to be entertaining; but in every case he maintains a purpose, and writes for the accomplishment of an end. There are few instances in history of so entire a surrendering of a man's self to popular and public interests. He lives, moves, and has his being in one lifelong effort to advance the public welfare. As a politician, all his aims are honest, liberal, and thoroughgoing. In all his endeavours he seeks to advance his object, and not himself; and in this respect he is worthy of universal admiration. How immeasurably superior, in this respect, to many a popular champion of later times! His patriotism and philanthropy are not professional-ar not assumed for purposes of vanity or ambition; but they are real and earnest, and he grudges not to suffer penalties on their account. There is in him an admirable self-abandonment-a prodigal generosity, which sacrifices comfort, interest, and reputation for the sake of a cherished cause that has been conscientiously and deliberately embraced. This, indeed, is the sign of a true patriot-that he will give himself, and boast nothing of his devotion; counting lightly of all losses and chagrins, and, if needs be, accepting even Danton's reckless and stern alternative—' Let my name be blighted, if so only the good cause may prosper!' De Foe evidently lived much under a 'blighted name;' but he endured it with a noble patience, and along with it manifold persecutions, exposures in the pillory, and imprisonments—and all for an able and manly advocacy of principles and sentiments whose truth and rightfulness time has since asserted and confirmed. Whoso marcheth in the van of the unborn events, under the contempt and hootings of the faithless, let him courageously hold on along the path of his aspirations

'My faith is large in Time,

And that which shapes it to some perfect end.'

CONFUCIU S.

THER

HE most instructive chapter in the comprehensive records of philosophy is example. There its principles are illustrated in action; its spirit typified in life. By this agency has the Divine Being most perfectly revealed himself; and by it, in the moral economy of his universe, are the virtuous energies of humanity continually renewed. The happiest inspiration of which society is the source is the influence diffused through it in various attractive forms by its most distinguished members. Coleridge has beautifully, and with his accustomed significance, remarked that 'it is only by celestial observations that even terrestrial charts can be constructed scientifically.' To gaze steadfastly at the intellectual and moral lights of the world is at once the criterion and pledge of our own advancement; and in that constellation there are for all of us some bright particular stars, which, on account of the brilliancy with which they have shone forth upon mankind under the most peculiar circumstances, should be most earnestly and studiously regarded. Such a one was Confucius : a man who, to use the language of a distinguished living writer, 'six centuries before Christ, considered the outward economy of an empire a worthier object of study than all hidden and abstracted lore; who prized maxims of life and conduct more than all speculations regarding the Divinity; who had actually anticipated some of the most modern propositions respecting the governor and the governed. This man was not a mere name for a set of opinions: he had a distinct, marked personality. And his words and acts have not been limited to a narrow circle or to one or two centuries. He has left an impression of himself upon the most populous empire in the world. After two thousand years his authority is still sacred among the people, the mandarins, the emperors of China; his influence is felt in every portion of that vast and complicated society.' Of this man it is our intention here to give some account.

Koong-foo-tse, or Confucius, as his name has been Latinised by the Jesuits, was born in the autumn of the year 551 B. C. at Shang-Ping, in the kingdom of Loo, within the district now called Keo-fow Hiew, just to the eastward of the great canal, in Shan-tung province. It will be observed from the date that he was a contemporary of Pythagoras. Various prodigies, as in other instances, were, we are told, the forerunners of his birth. On the eve of his appearance upon earth, two dragons encircled the house, five celestial sages entered it at the moment of the portentous

birth, and vocal and instrumental music filled the air. When he was born this inscription appeared on his breast: 'The maker of a rule for settling the world. His pedigree is traced back in a summary manner to the mythological monarch Hoang-hj, who is said to have lived more than two thousand years before Christ. His father was a magistrate in his native kingdom; for China was then divided into a number of small feudal states, nominally dependent on one head, but each ruled by its own laws. Confucius, therefore, undoubtedly belonged to the literary class from which the mandarins are chosen; and it is said that from his infancy he distinguished himself by his remarkable progress in philosophy. Certain it is that he made those advances in rank and dignity which in China could not be made without much study and an acquaintance with the works of his predecessors in different branches of learning; for he became, say his biographers, one of the first mandarins in the kingdom of Loo.

The early part of his life, as recorded by his followers, presents some curious traits. He was but three years old, says the tale, when his father, Shuh-Leang-Ho, died in a state of honourable poverty, leaving young Confucius to the care of his wife Yan-She. The young philosopher, we are told, took no delight in playing like other boys-a very bad symptom, as we should have apprehended, of the vigour of his intellectual faculties, but which is, of course, recorded to his honour. He was remarkably grave and serious in his deportment, and endeavoured in all things to imitate his grandfather. For this old gentleman he entertained an extraordinary degree of veneration, but nevertheless he one day ventured to reprove him with much philosophic dignity. The occasion was as follows: the grandfather was sitting absorbed in a melancholy reverie, in the course of which he frequently sighed deeply. The child observing him, after some time approached him, and, with many bows and formal reverences, spoke thus: If I may presume, without violating the respect which I owe you, sir, to inquire into the cause of your grief, I would gladly do so. Perhaps you fear that I, who am descended from you, may reflect discredit on your memory by failing to imitate your virtues.' His grandfather, astonished, asked him from whom he had learned to speak in such a manner. From yourself, sir,' replied the boy. 'I listen attentively to your words, and I often hear you say that a son who does not imitate the virtues of his forefathers is not worthy to bear their name.' The result of this sage discourse is not mentioned, but it is evidently a story fabricated to hold him up to admiration among a people whose distinguishing character is that of filial respect for their parents. Another tale is told to exemplify his veneration for the ancients. After the death of his grandfather, which happened when Confucius was a mere child, the latter pursued his studies under a learned doctor, who was likewise a magistrate and governor, although a teacher in a public school, by whose instruction he was soon enabled to read and comprehend many ancient works long since lost. This progress he had made at the age of sixteen, when he fell into company with a person of high rank, and more than twice as old as himself. The great man, who did not entertain so high a respect as Confucius for the works in question, declared that they were obscure, and not worth the trouble of studying. Whereupon our young student sharply reproved him, saying: 'The books which you despise are full of profound knowledge,

and their obscurity is a recommendation to them. In consequence of this they can only be understood by the wise and learned. If they were plain and intelligible to the people in general, the people would despise them. It is very necessary to the subordination and tranquillity of society that there should be degrees of knowledge, to render the ignorant dependent on the wise. As society could not exist with equality of power, so it could as little exist with equality of knowledge; for every one would wish to govern, and no one would be willing to obey. I have heard from a low, ignorant person, the same observation which you now make, and it did not surprise me from him, but I am astonished to hear it from a person of your rank and dignity, who ought to be so much better informed.' The story goes on to say that the mandarin, incensed at the rebuke, and unable to reply to it by reasoning, would have fallen upon the young logician, and given him a sound beating, if he had not been prevented by those who stood by.

He was now made a subordinate magistrate, with the duty of inspecting the sale and distribution of corn, and distinguished himself by his industry and energy in repressing fraud and introducing order and integrity into the whole business. This led to a higher appointment-that of inspectorgeneral of pastures and flocks-which he entered upon when in his twentyfirst year; and the result of his judicious measures, we are told, was a general improvement in the cultivation of the country and the condition of the people. Before this he had entered into the holy estate of matrimony. Early marriages are common in China; and Confucius, who seems to have had a peculiar aptitude for conforming to established customs, took to himself a wife at the age of nineteen. The lady was Ke-Kwan-She, of an ancient family in Sung, and by her he had one son, named Pe-Yu, who died before his father at the age of fifty, but left a son, named TsuTse, who grew up in the paths pointed out to him by his grandfather, became very learned, and attained to the highest honours of the state. Confucius, who appears to have entertained no great regard for the fair sex, divorced his wife four years after marriage, for no other reason than that he might attend the better to his books, and be able to discharge more efficiently his duties as a mandarin and superintendent of the agriculture of the province.

The death of his mother, which happened when he was twenty-three years of age, interrupted his administrative functions. According to the ancient and almost forgotten laws of China, children were obliged to resign all public employments on the death of either of their parents; and Confucius, desirous of renewing the observance in his native land of all the practices of venerable antiquity, did not fail to conform to this enactment. He further resolved that instead of consigning the dead, as was now customary in China, to any piece of waste ground at hand, the obsequies of his mother should be celebrated with a decorum and magnificence which should be an example to the whole country. This spectacle, in which pomp united with propriety, struck his fellow-citizens with astonishment, and inspired them with such touching recollections, that they determined to restore the observance of what were supposed to be the ancient funeral rites, and to bury their dead in future with all the honours of antiquity. This example was soon followed by the inhabitants of the neighbouring states, and the whole nation, excepting the poorest class, has continued

the practice to the present day. Confucius, however, was not satisfied with a splendid ceremony, which might be forgotten before the funeral baked meats' were cold. He inculcated the necessity of repeating acts of homage and respect at stated times, either at the grave, or in a part of the dwelling-house consecrated for the purpose. Hence the 'hall of ancestors' and anniversary feasts of the dead which now distinguish China as a nation, and in which, unfortunately, the Confucian testimonials of affection and respect have degenerated into idolatrous worship. Delighted at the success of his experiment, Confucius shut himself up in his house, to pass in solitude the three years of mourning for his mother.

This period of retirement was not lost to philosophy, for he devoted the whole of it to study. He reflected deeply on the eternal laws of morality, traced them to their source, imbued his mind with a sense of the duties which they impose indiscriminately on all men, and determined to make them the immutable rules of all his actions. Renouncing the repose, fortune, and honours to which his birth and talents entitled him to aspire, he magnanimously resolved to devote his life to the instruction of his countrymen. He undertook to revive amongst them respect and attachment to those ancient rites and usages, with the performance of which, in his view, all social and political virtues were connected. Not content with explaining to all classes of his fellow-citizens the invariable precepts of morality, he proposed to found a school, and train up disciples to aid him in disseminating his doctrines through all parts of the empire, and to continue to teach them after his death. He further intended to compose a series of books which should serve as depositories for his maxims, and hand down his doctrines to after-ages, in the same form in which he had himself promulgated them.

6

At this time the most eminent of his contemporaries in philosophy was Laou-tze, who was born B. c. 604, and enjoyed a great reputation. He was the prince of the doctrine of the Taou;' a word which, according to some, means Reason, and to others, Knowledge, and bears a certain resemblance to the contemporaneous Logos of the Platonic school. His father and mother were poor peasants, the former seventy and the latter fifty years of age at the time of his birth, which tradition ascribes to the agency of a falling star. However this may be, the expectant mother seems to have forsaken or been thrust forth from her dwelling; and while wandering in the fields, when the critical time arrived she lay down beneath a pear-tree, and there the wonderful child was born. The Book of Reason and Virtue,' the gospel of the Taou, has never been translated; and it is so obscure, both in style and matter, as to be imperfectly known even to Chinese scholars. The general account of it, however, is, that it presents a scheme of morals of too transcendental and mystical a character to be of any practical use. Laou-tze, during the greater part of his life, was a visionary recluse, wrapped up in metaphysical speculations, and treating with contempt the things of the external world. The darkness of his thoughts was made still deeper by an extraordinary compression of style; and hence the dreamers of succeeding times found in his writings a warrant for their wildest imaginations. He was a believer in the original goodness of human nature, and ascribed its vitiation to the circumstances by which men are surrounded in the world. Above all things, therefore, he insisted