MEDITATIONS: FIRST OF The Four Books
The Great Learning
On the bathing tub of T’ang, the following words were engraved: “If you can one day renovate yourself, do so from day to day. Yes, let there be daily renovation.” (Confucius, The Great Learning, Chap II, para 1)
To renovate oneself, to remake oneself, to cultivate ones character toward sincerity, benevolence, and responsible conduct—these are the aims of the Confucian philosophy, to bring out the higher potential of each class of man that the greater social order works in harmony with itself. It is the parochial Way of the ancient Chinese states, and though displaced from its original time and locale, the Confucian school of thought retains much wisdom applicable to the modern west.
The first of the four books, The Great Learning, is commonly referred to as the gateway to the greater texts. It is meant to establish the proper mindset in the reader as to prevent misunderstanding or other forms of confusion. In fact, much of The Great Learning is itself interpretation of older works, such as these commentaries by Philosopher Tsang on The Book of Poetry:
In the Book of Poetry, it is said, “The twittering yellow bird rests on a corner of the mound.” The master said, “When it rests, it knows where to rest. Is it possible that a man should not be equal to this bird?”
In the Book of Poetry, it is said, “Profound was King Wan. With how bright and unceasing a feeling of reverence did he regard his resting places!” As a sovereign, he rested in benevolence. As a minister, he rested in reverence. As a son, he rested in filial piety. As a father, he rested in kindness. In communication with his subjects, he rested in good faith. (Chap III, para 2-3)
Right away, the reader’s attention is drawn toward notions of natural order, virtue, hierarchy, and propriety. “Resting places” are where one finds relief from the hardships of life and happiness in one’s circumstances. Just as the bird finds its proper resting place by its nature, so to is it natural for human beings to find restoration in their own resting places. Where those places are depends on each person’s position in life and his relationships with others. By accepting one’s hierarchical positions according to one’s time, place, and culture, one can begin to cultivate virtue of character through the fulfillment of duty.
The key here, and the difficulty, is in accepting intrinsic inequality. The duties of the father are not the same as the duties of the son, and so the burdens and rewards will likewise be unequal. However, the aims of Confucians are not equality, but the improvement of society through the improvement of individual virtues of character. In the eyes of the Confucian scholars, it is better to be humble, sincere, loyal, responsible, and thereby content with one’s life than it is to be on a level playing-field with others yet bereft of duty and abundant in discontent.
But as mentioned, acceptance of such inequality is difficult, especially to post-enlightenment, western minds such as those likely to reader this Meditation. A deeper, more fundamental virtue is required in order voluntarily suffer the burdens of inevitable, natural tyranny (i.e. a certain virtue is necessary for the heart to affirm its own shackles, for a man to choose to become a Nietzschean camel in the sense of Thus Spake Zarathustra’s “Three Metamorphoses”). That virtue is sincerity—honesty with oneself:
What is meant by, “making the thoughts sincere,” is the allowing no self-deception, as when we hate a bad smell, and as when we love what is beautiful. This is called self-enjoyment. Therefore, the superior man must be watchful over himself when he is alone. (Chap VI, para 1)
Special attention ought to be brought to the final line, “The superior man must be watchful over himself when he is alone.” That watchfulness is consciousness. That is to say, to be honesty and sincere with oneself requires attending to one’s inner thoughts and feelings. One cannot be honest if he is unaware—just as a man cannot lie if he does not know the truth in the first place. Such awareness requires rectifying the mind:
What is meant by, “The cultivation of the person depends on rectifying the mind,” may be thus illustrated:—If a man be under the influence of passion, he will be incorrect in his conduct. He will be the same, if he is under the influence of terror, or under the influence of fond regard, or under that of sorrow and distress.
When the mind is not present, we look and do not see; we hear and do not understand; we eat and do not know the taste of what we eat. (Chap VII, para 1-2)
In order to become the utmost version of himself, a man must be willing to see himself as he truly is. He must be present in his own life. He cannot life merely waiting for distractions. The word, “rectifying,” then, is rather appropriate (read: proper). For such self-consciousness is just that—self-consciousness, a direct and immediate sense of discomfort. But as painful as it is at first, like exercise, one’s ego becomes accustomed to enduring the Truth. One begins to notice when one’s emotions are holding the reins and therefore can be honest with himself about how he feels and how he can satisfy those feelings without them taking possession of him. Through this process, one learns the necessary disciplines for self-mastery through more fundamental and necessary self-knowledge. One does all of this just to achieve sincerity with himself, and only then can he choose to be benevolent and responsible in his relationship with others.
To take another parallel from Nietzsche, one sees here that freedom of the heart and mind are found only by first placing them in chains.
But the chains must be voluntary. They must be one’s own; therefore, The Great Learning primes the reader to teach and to govern by example. To borrow a phrase from Dr Jordan B. Peterson, one should first set his own house in order before he criticizes the world:
What is meant by “In order rightly to govern the state, it is necessary first to regulate the family,” is this:—It is not possible for one to teach others, while he cannot teach his own family. (Chap IX, para 1)
Likewise, the sovereign ought to lead by example in matters of his own personal temperance just as he ought to foster good relations and filial duty in his family. If he becomes corrupt, what will follow is a corrupt population:
Virtue is the root; wealth is the result.
If he makes the root his secondary object, and the result his primary, he will only wrangle with his people, and teach them rapine. . . .
And hence, the ruler’s words going forth contrary to right, will come back to him in the same way, and wealth, gotten by improper ways, will take its departure by the same. (Chap X, para 7-10)
And so, the reader has been forewarned against material temptations and sway by the emotions. He has been instructed on the rectification of his minds that he may be sincere. Through sincerity, he can rest in the proper virtues of his roles in regard to himself and in regard to others. For the humble man, those roles are often self-evident: be loyal and dutiful to your family, to your friends and neighbors, and to those with whom you work. But what of the superior man?
When one has risen to the heights of a hierarchy, his social relationships change somewhat. He gains new responsibilities and a greater burden of judiciously benevolent conduct. He gains the power to gate-keep and to promote those below him. Here, one encounters new temptations, those of nepotism and of self-centered political maneuvering. The Great Learning forewarns against these vicious impulses as well:
To see men of worth and not be able to raise them to office; to raise them to office but not to do so quickly:—this is disrespectful. To see bad men and not be able to remove them; to remove them, but not to do so to a distance:—this is weakness. (Chap X, para 16)
One ought not only to be willing but capable of fulfilling his duty, giving each his due in his due time. Confucian meritocracy stems from this dictum, that as one advances in social position, he ought to make efforts to advance in his moral character, which includes his power to make moral decisions. It is not sufficient merely to abstain from vices and inherit rank; one has a responsibility to cultivate merit so that he has the capacity to maintain the meritocrat social order passed down to him from his ancestors.
The great learning for which the first of the Confucian texts is named is precisely that: it is the means of retaining the vitally of order in a universe of entropy and chaos. By maintaining said order, a peoples can bring themselves to affirm the otherwise cruel conditions of life, because they bring to bear their own benevolence and sincerity from which a meaningful existence can be sculpted from natural suffering and inequity. Each person finds his proper place to rest—his place of contentment in life, in accord with his time, place, culture, and virtues. In a society which can accomplish this through the cultivation of character of its leaders and citizens, merit becomes the measure of hierarchy, and each man attends to his proper responsibilities.
This illustrates again the saying, “In a state, gain is not to be considered prosperity, but its prosperity will be found in righteousness.” (Chap X, para 23)
Confucius and Mencius. The Four Books; The Great Learning, The Doctrine of the Mean, Confucian Analects, and The Works of Mencius, translated by James Legge, Andesite Press, an imprint of Creative Media Partners.
