The oldest known Chinese sage is Lao-Tze, the founder of Taoism.  “Lao Tze” is not really a proper name, but means merely “the old philosopher.”  He was (according to tradition) an older contemporary of Confucius, and his philosophy is to my mind far more interesting.  He held that every person, every animal, and every thing has a certain way or manner of behaving which is natural to him, or her, or it, and that we ought to conform to this way ourselves and encourage others to conform to it.  “Tao” means “way,” but used in a more or less mystical sense, as in the text:  “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life.”  I think he fancied that death was due to departing from the “way,” and that if we all lived strictly according to nature we should be immortal, like the heavenly bodies.  In later times Taoism degenerated into mere magic, and was largely concerned with the search for the elixir of life.  But I think the hope of escaping from death was an element in Taoist philosophy from the first.

Lao-Tze’s book, or rather the book attributed to him, is very short, but his ideas were developed by his disciple Chuang-Tze, who is more interesting than his master.  The philosophy which both advocated was one of freedom.  They thought ill of government, and of all interferences with Nature.  They complained of the hurry of modern life, which they contrasted with the calm existence of those whom they called “the pure men of old.”  There is a flavour of mysticism in the doctrine of the Tao, because in spite of the multiplicity of living things the Tao is in some sense one, so that if all live according to it there will be no strife in the world.  But both sages have already the Chinese characteristics of humour, restraint, and under-statement.  Their humour is illustrated by Chuang-Tze’s account of Po-Lo who “understood the management of horses,” and trained them till five out of every ten died.[95] Their restraint and under-statement are evident when they are compared with Western mystics.  Both characteristics belong to all Chinese literature and art, and to the conversation of cultivated Chinese in the present day.  All classes in China are fond of laughter, and never miss a chance of a joke.  In the educated classes, the humour is sly and delicate, so that Europeans often fail to see it, which adds to the enjoyment of the Chinese.  Their habit of under-statement is remarkable.  I met one day in Peking a middle-aged man who told me he was academically interested in the theory of politics; being new to the country, I took his statement at its face value, but I afterwards discovered that he had been governor of a province, and had been for many years a very prominent politician.  In Chinese poetry there is an apparent absence of passion which is due to the same practice of under-statement.  They consider that a wise man should always remain calm, and though they have their passionate moments (being in fact a very excitable race), they do not wish to perpetuate them in art,