Confucian Analects, Confucius, 500 B.C., Part 10
Confucius, in his village,
looked simple and sincere, and as if he
were not able to speak.
When he was in the prince's ancestral
temple, or in the court, he spoke
minutely on every point, but cautiously.
When he was waiting at court, in
speaking with the great officers of the
lower grade, he spoke freely, but in a
straightforward manner; in speaking with
those of the higher grade, he did so
blandly, but precisely.
When the ruler was present, his manner
displayed respectful uneasiness; it was
grave, but self-possessed.
When the prince called him to employ him
in the reception of a visitor, his
countenance appeared to change, and his
legs to move forward with difficulty.
He inclined himself to the other
officers among whom he stood, moving his
left or right arm, as their position
required, but keeping the skirts of his
robe before and behind evenly adjusted.
He hastened forward, with his arms like
the wings of a bird.
When the guest had retired, he would
report to the prince, "The visitor is
not turning round any more."
When he entered the palace gate, he
seemed to bend his body, as if it were
not sufficient to admit him.
When he was standing, he did not occupy
the middle of the gateway; when he
passed in or out, he did not tread upon
the threshold.
When he was passing the vacant place of
the prince, his countenance appeared to
change, and his legs to bend under him,
and his words came as if he hardly had
breath to utter them.
He ascended the reception hall, holding
up his robe with both his hands, and his
body bent; holding in his breath also,
as if he dared not breathe.
When he came out from the audience, as
soon as he had descended one step, he
began to relax his countenance, and had
a satisfied look. When he had got the
bottom of the steps, he advanced rapidly
to his place, with his arms like wings,
and on occupying it, his manner still
showed respectful uneasiness.
When he was carrying the scepter of his
ruler, he seemed to bend his body, as if
he were not able to bear its weight. He
did not hold it higher than the position
of the hands in making a bow, nor lower
than their position in giving anything
to another. His countenance seemed to
change, and look apprehensive, and he
dragged his feet along as if they were
held by something to the ground.
In presenting the presents with which he
was charged, he wore a placid
appearance.
At his private audience, he looked
highly pleased.
The superior man did not use a deep
purple, or a puce color, in the
ornaments of his dress.
Even in his undress, he did not wear
anything of a red or reddish color.
In warm weather, he had a single garment
either of coarse or fine texture, but he
wore it displayed over an inner garment.
Over lamb's fur he wore a garment of
black; over fawn's fur one of white; and
over fox's fur one of yellow.
The fur robe of his undress was long,
with the right sleeve short.
He required his sleeping dress to be
half as long again as his body.
When staying at home, he used thick furs
of the fox or the badger.
When he put off mourning, he wore all
the appendages of the girdle.
His undergarment, except when it was
required to be of the curtain shape, was
made of silk cut narrow above and wide
below.
He did not wear lamb's fur or a black
cap on a visit of condolence.
On the first day of the month he put on
his court robes, and presented himself
at court.
When fasting, he thought it necessary to
have his clothes brightly clean and made
of linen cloth.
When fasting, he thought it necessary to
change his food, and also to change the
place where he commonly sat in the
apartment.
He did not dislike to have his rice
finely cleaned, nor to have his mince
meat cut quite small.
He did not eat rice which had been
injured by heat or damp and turned sour,
nor fish or flesh which was gone. He did
not eat what was discolored, or what was
of a bad flavor, nor anything which was
ill-cooked, or was not in season.
He did not eat meat which was not cut
properly, nor what was served without
its proper sauce.
Though there might be a large quantity
of meat, he would not allow what he took
to exceed the due proportion for the
rice. It was only in wine that he laid
down no limit for himself, but he did
not allow himself to be confused by it.
He did not partake of wine and dried
meat bought in the market.
He was never without ginger when he ate.
He did not eat much.
When he had been assisting at the
prince's sacrifice, he did not keep the
flesh which he received overnight. The
flesh of his family sacrifice he did not
keep over three days. If kept over three
days, people could not eat it.
When eating, he did not converse. When
in bed, he did not speak.
Although his food might be coarse rice
and vegetable soup, he would offer a
little of it in sacrifice with a grave,
respectful air.
If his mat was not straight, he did not
sit on it.
When the villagers were drinking
together, upon those who carried staffs
going out, he also went out immediately
after.
When the villagers were going through
their ceremonies to drive away
pestilential influences, he put on his
court robes and stood on the eastern
steps.
When he was sending complimentary
inquiries to any one in another state,
he bowed twice as he escorted the
messenger away.
Chi K'ang having sent him a present of
physic, he bowed and received it,
saying, "I do not know it. I dare not
taste it."
The stable being burned down, when he
was at court, on his return he said,
"Has any man been hurt?" He did not ask
about the horses.
When the he would adjust his mat, first
taste it, and then give it away to
others. When the prince sent him a gift
of undressed meat, he would have it
cooked, and offer it to the spirits of
his ancestors. When the prince sent him
a gift of a living animal, he would keep
it alive.
When he was in attendance on the prince
and joining in the entertainment, the
prince only sacrificed. He first tasted
everything.
When he was ill and the prince came to
visit him, he had his head to the east,
made his court robes be spread over him,
and drew his girdle across them.
When the prince's order called him,
without waiting for his carriage to be
yoked, he went at once.
When he entered the ancestral temple of
the state, he asked about everything.
When any of his friends died, if he had
no relations offices, he would say, "I
will bury him."
When a friend sent him a present, though
it might be a carriage and horses, he
did not bow.
The only present for which he bowed was
that of the flesh of sacrifice.
In bed, he did not lie like a corpse. At
home, he did not put on any formal
deportment.
When he saw any one in a mourning dress,
though it might be an acquaintance, he
would change countenance; when he saw
any one wearing the cap of full dress,
or a blind person, though he might be in
his undress, he would salute him in a
ceremonious manner.
To any person in mourning he bowed
forward to the crossbar of his carriage;
he bowed in the same way to any one
bearing the tables of population.
When he was at an entertainment where
there was an abundance of provisions set
before him, he would change countenance
and rise up.
On a sudden clap of thunder, or a
violent wind, he would change
countenance.
When he was about to mount his carriage,
he would stand straight, holding the
cord.
When he was in the carriage, he did not
turn his head quite round, he did not
talk hastily, he did not point with his
hands.
Seeing the countenance, it instantly
rises. It flies round, and by and by
settles.
The Master said, "There is the
hen-pheasant on the hill bridge. At its
season! At its season!" Tsze-lu made a
motion to it. Thrice it smelt him and
then rose.
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