Pathway to Japanese Literature

“Lately I have been secluded in the countryside with few opportunities to meet you all, but having been requested to speak at this China Society conference—and given my advancing senility—preparing entirely new research would prove too burdensome. Thus I stated that if I could recall any material requiring no fresh investigation, I would undertake the task.”

“Afterward, while searching my house for such material, I remembered having lectured on *The History of Chinese Historiography* at the university over a decade ago. It occurred to me this likely constituted undelivered portions from those lectures. When later revising the transcript, I discovered notes written on two or three sheets of paper intended to supplement those very sections.”

“Given that most current university members belong to younger generations amid this changed era, I believe even had I delivered those lectures then, none present would recall them now.”

“As this constitutes such aged material, it hardly qualifies as new research.”

“Therefore, if those portions indeed remained undelivered, I find it convenient to briefly discuss them now—particularly as I possess neither lecture notes nor materials for this section beyond a single surviving outline. Though this approach may seem presumptuous, the transcription arrangements here make it doubly convenient to supplement those omissions.”

“Should I have previously discussed this outline elsewhere by chance, I beg your kind indulgence if any here have heard it before.”

“Though in truth, even if you had heard it, I imagine sufficient time has passed for you to have forgotten entirely.”

“Thus, ‘The Origins of Chinese Historical Thought’—as a lecture title for these times, it feels rather uninspired.”
“Nowadays, such unsophisticated titles have fallen quite out of fashion—everyone favors excessively elaborate ones instead. When you look at these titles, you’ll find many whose content remains utterly inscrutable, yet mine remains perfectly straightforward.”

To begin with, the truth is that my *History of Chinese Historiography* was first commenced around Taisho 3, which would make it nineteen or twenty years ago now.
“I revised it and repeated it twice.”
“Thus, even though it was the second time, this occurred over a decade ago—likely around Taisho 8 or 9—and I continued this work for two or three years.”
“After that, I completed a general revision.”
In Taisho 12 (1923), after suffering a serious illness, I stayed in Arima for a time.
At that time, I did make revisions to the transcript, but as conducting revisions thorough enough for publication required somewhat more time, I left it in that state and have not published it to this day.

In that sense, if one were to call it research, it is already mildewed research.
At that time, I conducted various studies concerning what might be called the origins of Chinese history.
In some of these studies, there are portions where what I had previously undertaken was later pursued by Mr. Wang Guowei—which today have come to be regarded as Mr. Wang’s original theories—but in any case, I thoroughly examined matters pertaining to what might be called the origins of historical thought at that time.
The origins of history I lectured on then primarily concerned the origins of historical materials and records; thus I believe I did not sufficiently address the origins of historical thought itself. Consequently, perceiving that portion to be lacking, I later supplemented just the essentials and inserted them into my lecture notes.
As my memory has considerably deteriorated with senility, I may be mistaken.

In truth, though I speak of "origins," it may be preferable to term it simply as origins—or rather, since this concerns the path along which historical thought gradually developed, it might be more appropriate to speak of *the development of historical thought*. In any case, concerning such matters, I considered various materials.

The first is the historical thought evident in relatively accurate records. When speaking of ancient Chinese records—even those considered classics—it remains exceedingly difficult to declare them absolutely accurate. To begin with, there is no other choice but to describe them as relatively accurate. Therefore, I consider works such as the *Book of Documents* to be the most relatively accurate records, but even within that *Book of Documents*, I believe there exist portions that are the most relatively accurate. To explain what this means, I believe that those writings centered on the Duke of Zhou from the early Zhou period are likely the most relatively accurate. Within today’s *Book of Documents*, particularly in what is considered the reliable New Text version, I believe the portions concerning the Duke of Zhou are comparatively accurate. To explain the reasons in full would become quite lengthy, so I shall defer that for today.

Now, when speaking of matters related to the Duke of Zhou, examples would include the *Dagao* (Great Announcement), *Kanggao* (Announcement to Kang), *Jiugao* (Announcement on Alcohol), *Zhaogao* (Announcement of Zhao), and *Luogao* (Announcement of Luo)—collectively termed the Five Announcements—as well as subsequent chapters such as *Wuyi* (Against Idleness), *Junshi* (Lord Shi), *Duoshi* (Multitude of Officers), *Duofang* (Various Regions), and *Lizheng* (Establishing Governance). All these chapters are connected to the Duke of Zhou. That I believe to be among the relatively accurate portions even within the *Book of Documents*.

However, when examined in greater detail, even among these there were scarcely any pure records preserved intact; they appeared to have been transmitted partly as written accounts and partly through oral recitation. Among these, what I believe to have survived predominantly as records would be the category now known as the Five Announcements. In comparison, texts such as *Wuyi* and *Junshi* contained a greater number of sections that appeared to have been transmitted with somewhat more narrative elements.

Even so, that is to say, even if they were transmitted with somewhat more narrative elements, it was conceivable that those narratives were not written down in bamboo slips during some newer era but rather in a considerably older period. Among those works related to the Duke of Zhou, the last to appear was the *Lizheng* chapter. Regarding the characters used within it—this occurred to me through a rather curious line of thought—it employed the auxiliary character *yi* (矣). The chapter employing this auxiliary character was solely *Lizheng* among those related to the Duke of Zhou.

Now, according to examples such as those in the *Book of Songs*, this character gradually came to be used more frequently—a phenomenon generally considered prevalent in poems composed from the late Western Zhou to early Eastern Zhou period (1). Therefore, I surmised that narratives concerning the Duke of Zhou such as this *Lizheng* were likely written no later than the early Eastern Zhou period. And since this appeared last among the chapters related to the Duke of Zhou, one might imagine that the others were generally written prior to it—though I must confess I had not yet conducted research thorough enough to assert this with absolute clarity.

In any case, given these circumstances, I considered that among them, what are called the Five Announcements were likely the most reliable among the transmitted Chinese records. Another piece of evidence suggesting the particular antiquity of the *Zhaogao* and *Luogao* among these chapters lay in the peculiarly structured composition of *Luogao*, which concluded with recorded dates (year and month). At the end of *Luogao*, it was written: "The Duke of Zhou diligently upheld King Wen and King Wu’s received Mandate for seven years," preceded by the notation "In the twelfth month." Now, these two chapters—*Zhaogao* and *Luogao*—contained continuous content narratives, leaving no doubt from their substance that they had been created nearly simultaneously. However, *Luogao* employed this distinctive method of date notation at its conclusion. When comparing this chronological notation method with bronze inscriptions, we found it precisely matched the oldest styles present in such inscriptions. There existed bronze vessels known as Da Yu Ding and Xiao Yu Ding—among the most exquisitely crafted extant examples—whose inscriptions displayed considerable antiquity. Regarding their dating methods, Da Yu Ding bore the inscription "隹（惟）王廿又三祀" ("In the twenty-third year of the King's reign") at its end. Xiao Yu Ding similarly concluded with "隹王廿又五祀" ("In the twenty-fifth year of the King’s reign"). Additionally, during my earlier investigations, I had examined the Yu Zun vessel, which likewise recorded years and months at its conclusion. This vessel displayed an unusual inscription reading "隹王十祀有五椃角" ("In the tenth year of the King’s reign, during the fifth month"). Another example contained "在六月隹王廿祀" ("In the sixth month, in the twentieth year of the King’s reign"). Furthermore, *Gulu Jinwen* (Ancient Record of Bronze Inscriptions) documented the Wu Chen Yi vessel bearing "在十月隹王廿祀" ("In the tenth month, in the twentieth year of the King’s reign"). Mr. Guo Moruo’s recent *Compendium of Bronze Inscriptions* also included the ※尊 (Choku Zun) with the inscription "隹王二祀" ("In the second year of the King’s reign"). All these exemplified cases where years appeared at inscriptions' conclusions.

Thus, chronological notations appearing at chapter ends in this manner were generally found only in so-called Western Zhou bronze vessels, being almost nonexistent in bronzes from Eastern Zhou and later periods.
This might well be termed an exceptionally ancient dating method, yet it coincides precisely with that seen in the *Luogao* chapter.
However, while *Luogao* employs "seven years" rather than "seventh year of reign," such variances could emerge when records were gradually transmitted and later rewritten using more accessible characters—as seen when Sima Qian's *Records of the Grand Historian* quotes the *Book of Documents*, where we observe numerous alterations to original characters.
Though said to employ exegetical substitutions, such character revisions likely occurred when transmitting ancient records anew, necessitating enhanced comprehensibility.

In any case, I believed one could state that among the *Book of Documents*, these *Zhaogao* and *Luogao* were the oldest and most reliable records from their time of composition. However, within this *Zhaogao*, what might be termed historical thought appeared with remarkable clarity.

Generally speaking, when discussing China’s dynastic succession, it was said that in the earliest periods, Xia had been succeeded by Yin (Shang), and Yin by Zhou. Yet regarding Xia’s transition to Yin, we possessed no definitive records today. While the *Book of Documents* contained oath-announcements like Tang’s Oath and Tang’s Announcement from when Tang of Yin conquered Xia, these appeared to have been oral narratives later committed to writing during a specific period; they could not be considered records preserved intact from their inception.

Not only that—though we could not know how many dynasties might have preceded Xia—the transitions from Xia to Yin and Yin to Zhou were undoubtedly momentous events in ancient Chinese history. However, I maintained that mere court successions, such as Xia being replaced by Yin, had not yet given rise to a significantly developed historical consciousness.

Yet when two further dynastic changes followed, it became evident that the concept of dynastic transition came to be contemplated with particular acuity by people at large. In China, these three dynasties of Xia, Yin (Shang), and Zhou were examined from manifold perspectives.

Later scholars appended what was called the Three Ages doctrine to this framework and began articulating each era’s distinctive characteristics.

In any case, since these three dynasties had emerged, this was considered to have imparted a profound impetus to human understanding regarding transitional periods between regimes.

Therefore, within this *Zhaogao*, matters pertaining to the dynastic revolutions of Xia, Yin, and Zhou manifested themselves.

It was thus stated: because Xia had lost the Mandate of Heaven, it was succeeded by Yin; and because Yin lost it, Zhou came to succeed them—

"We must take as our mirror the Xia.
We must also take as our mirror the Yin."

These words appear (2). Regarding matters of past dynasties—whether taking them as models or warnings—the successive replacement of these Three Dynasties appears to have been considered profoundly significant in ancient intellectual thought. Beyond *Zhaogao*, similar ideas emerge in the *Duoshi* chapter as well (3). Though not constituting comprehensive revolutionary theory, elements recognizable as historical thought appear to some degree even in chapters like *Wuyi* (Against Idleness) and *Junshi* (Lord Shi), becoming increasingly evident through *Duofang* (Various Regions) to the previously mentioned *Lizheng* (Establishing Governance) chapters.

One aspect becomes clear when reading the *Book of Documents* today: The victorious Zhou appear to have employed a rhetorical strategy toward the Yin people—who remained formidable despite defeat—framing causality thus: "Did not your own Yin replace Xia when its governance declined? Is it not natural that our Zhou should succeed you upon Heaven's Mandate being transferred?" Regardless of this political framing, I believe the very occurrence of these Three Dynastic changes must have held extraordinary significance as historical thought for that era.

This constitutes the primary manifestation of historical thought within relatively accurate ancient records.

Second, I believe that from those who opened up this land of China in ancient times, there gradually emerged over time the thought of considering societal changes and dynastic transitions up to that era.
In ancient times, the first to appear in either the *Book of Songs* or *Book of Documents* as the founder of this nation was Yu of Xia.
While matters concerning Yu of Xia appear abundantly in the classics as well, there is the famous passage in the "Dang" chapter of the Greater Odes section of the *Book of Songs*—as everyone knows—

"The mirror of Yin is not far.
It lies in the age of the Xia sovereigns."

These words appeared.
This expressed the transition across the Three Dynasties in merely two lines.
In the *Wen Wang You Sheng* chapter of the *Greater Odes*:

"The Feng River flows eastward.
It is Yu's achievements."

These words appeared.
In other words, the concept that Yu pacified the waters and land emerged during this period.
Also, in the *Hanyi* chapter of the *Greater Odes*:

"Grand is Mount Liang.
It was Yu who governed them."

Such manifestations appeared.
Furthermore, in the *Bigong* chapter of the *Lu Song* we find: "He encompassed the lands below,
Carrying on Yu's legacy," while the Changfa chapter of the *Shang Song* states: "The deluge was vast and boundless,
Yu spread his governance over the lands beyond the four quarters." Similarly, the Yinwu chapter of the *Shang Song* records: "Heaven's Mandate appointed many lords,
They established capitals at Yu's achievements." All these matters concerning Yu manifested themselves.

Regarding when such poems were composed—some dates we can determine while others remain unclear—particularly for works like the *Shang Song*, their era of composition remains rather ambiguous. Among these, the *Lu Song*'s period of creation is most discernible.
Since these primarily concern Duke Xi of Lu, they were certainly composed after his time (4), to the extent that even their authors' names have been transmitted.
Therefore, I believe we may state that these narratives about Yu were not created after the *Lu Song*; they likely date from at least before the *Lu Song*'s compilation.

The other two poems of the Greater Odes were also created at least from the late Western Zhou to the early Eastern Zhou period. As for references to Yu within the *Book of Documents*, setting aside both the sections in the Yu-Xia documents that specifically describe Yao, Shun, and Yu, as well as works like the *Hongfan* that solely emphasize their transmission from Yu, when examining Zhou-era writings related to Yu, we again find passages such as those in the previously mentioned *Lizheng* chapter.

Tread upon Yu’s achievements.

This phrase closely resembled those found in the *Book of Songs*. Though this character 迹 ("traces") appeared as 績 ("achievements") in the *Book of Songs*, I suspected these had originally been homophonic characters in antiquity that shared identical meanings. Another similar example could be found in the *Lu Song*:

Carry on Yu’s legacy.

There was such a phrase appearing in the inscription of the famous bronze bell known as the Qi Hou Bo:

All possessed the Nine Provinces.
Dwell within Yu’s domains.

They appeared in this way. I thought that the characters 堵 and 緒 might have originally been the same character. Thus, it could be considered that the legend of Yu opening the waters and land began to flourish in society from the late Western Zhou to the early Eastern Zhou period. Thus, even regarding the *Shang Song*, the theory that views their time of creation as being around this period became more plausible.

Moreover, in the Qi Hou Bo that I just mentioned, matters concerning Yu appear in the bronze inscriptions.
This Qi Hou Bo bell was recorded in the ancient Bogu Tu from the Song period.
It also appeared in Zhongding Kuanzhi (Bronze Vessel Inscriptions) by Xue Shanggong of the Southern Song, and among modern studies on this subject, Sun Yirang’s work in Guzhou Shiyi (Recovered Ancient Scripts) came to be regarded as the most precise.
Within this text was recorded that Tang of Yin, with Yi Yin’s assistance, overthrew Jie of Xia and thus came to possess all Nine Provinces, residing in the lands where Yu had dwelt.
What I cited earlier were two lines from among them.
This became what describes the revolution between Xia and Yin in bronze inscriptions.
This Qi Hou Bo bell was generally considered to date from the era of Duke Cheng of Lu, and since the "Marquis of Qi" written within it referred to Duke Ling of Qi, its period could thereby be determined.
That is to say, it corresponded to the middle Spring and Autumn period, generally falling around the early Eastern Zhou era, thus making it a bronze inscription produced in a period not significantly different from that of the Lu Song.
While the actual bronze vessel itself has not been transmitted to the present day, a similar Qi Hou Bo bell believed to have been produced around the same period was said to still exist in China today, preserved in the household of Suzhou’s Pan family—specifically Pan Zuyin’s lineage—and this could generally be considered reliable; as it contained narratives concerning Yu and extended to subsequent revolutions of Yin and Zhou, I believed these inscriptions might rightly be said to represent a clear manifestation of historical thought positioning Yu as a foundational figure.
That said, this legend of Yu differed from totemic narratives such as Shang's tale of the dark bird dropping its egg or Zhou's story of Jiang Yuan treading a giant's footprint. Even if it originally constituted a form of totem, the fact that it developed into being considered as founder of the entire land demonstrated that it was already being structured through historical thought.

Third, while I referred to these as etiological narratives, they represented the historical thought manifested in such narratives.
These etiological narratives existed in the ancient histories, tales, and records of any country, and even in Japan, works like the *Nihon Shoki* and other old histories contained them in great abundance.
In particular, works like the *Fudoki* could rightly be said to have consisted entirely of etiological narratives, but those in the *Nihon Shoki* and similar histories often detailed the facts [of events], frequently stating that these were the “origins” as people of the world had transmitted them in such a manner.
For example, in the section on the Age of the Gods in the *Nihon Shoki* where Ame no Wakahiko was described,

"This is the origin of what people call 'fearing the returning arrow,'" it states. Then there was the passage concerning Izanagi no Mikoto and Izanami no Mikoto:

"This is why people despise mistaking life for death," it records.

Such etiological accounts abound in the *Nihon Shoki*. In the Chronicles of Emperor Jimmu, for instance, it mentions that inverted language was employed to convey secrets, noting that "the use of inverted speech originated here." Furthermore, most entries in the *Nihon Shoki* either document ancestral lineages and tombs or trace present-day families back to ancient figures—all narratives that inquire into origins by working backward from contemporary realities.

These constitute etiological narratives, which also proliferate in Chinese classics like the *Zuo Commentary*. They appear not only there but also in works such as the *Gongyang Commentary* within the *Spring and Autumn Annals*. Regarding this, Wang Yinglin of Song drew attention to the matter in his *Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning*.

In the final "Miscellaneous Notes" chapter of this work, he cited numerous examples primarily from the *Book of Rites* and *Zuo Commentary*. When the character 始 ("beginning") appears in the *Zuo Commentary*, it invariably marks the inception of new practices. This emphasis on documenting "beginnings" proves crucial—every significant initiation is meticulously recorded.

For example, during Duke Yin’s fifth year, when six rows of dancers were first used in sacrificial music, it states: "Here began the use of six rows." The *Zuo Commentary* contains many such instances where "beginning" takes primacy, serving as evidence of historical transformation—an explanation Wang provided in Volume Twenty of his *Notes*.

He further observed that the *Book of Rites* similarly employs "beginning" for all ritual innovations. After this general statement, he systematically listed examples from chapters like *Tan Gong*, *Zengzi Wen*, *Yu Zao*, *Za Ji*, and *Jiao Te Sheng*, where every ritual change follows the formula: "Such-and-such began from such-and-such." He commenced with *Tan Gong*, which records...

"The Kong family’s cessation of mourning for divorced mothers.
It began with Zisi."

[Wang Yinglin] cited instances where such matters occurred and listed these examples extensively.
This observation was not originally made by Wang Yinglin; rather, he supplemented what Lu Dian of the Song dynasty had noted. In any case, Wang Yinglin and others drew attention to how these records of ritual changes employed the term "beginning" (5).
Wang Yinglin further remarked in Volume Five of *Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning*: "The Zengzi Wen chapter of the *Book of Rites* leaves no aspect of altered rituals unexamined."
Additionally, in Volume Six of the same work—though I previously mentioned the use of six rows of dancers—[Wang] primarily discussed the *Gongyang Commentary*. He observed that both the presentation of six rows and the implementation of the "land tax" system bore the character 初 ("beginning") at their origins, leading me to note how this term marked crucial turning points in societal transformations (6).
Beyond this, Wang Yinglin identified another significant pattern—where earlier examples used 始 ("beginning"), he now highlighted 猶 ("still") (7).
This appears in the first year of Duke Min’s reign in the *Zuo Commentary*, which records: "They still upheld Zhou rituals"—indicating that Lu State maintained Zhou practices.
Similarly, the entry for Duke Xi’s thirty-third year states: "Qi still possessed ritual propriety."
Wang Yinglin explained that this single character 猶 suggested rituals had long been abandoned elsewhere, surviving only vestigially in places like Lu and Qi.
These usages signify how certain practices endured despite societal changes, while "beginnings" denoted innovations that would gradually gain prominence.
Through such narratives—whether explaining contemporary causes or tracing ancient traditions’ evolution—we see etiological accounts embodying historical thought.
From comparing past and present eras while examining their transitional points emerges historical consciousness itself.
I maintain this constitutes one vital origin of historical thought.
Particularly when considering works like the *Nihon Shoki*, where etiological narratives form crucial components of ancient legends, we benefit from similar accounts preserved in texts like the *Gongyang Commentary* and *Zuo Commentary*. Through these, both Chinese antiquity’s structural frameworks and its conceptual foundations become discernible.
This represents one such instance.

Additionally, Chinese scholars such as Wang Zhong who studied the *Zuo Commentary* also noted this point; while the *Zuo Commentary* records not only human affairs but also five categories—heavenly principles, spirits and deities, portents and omens, divination, and dreams—and lists examples of each one by one, among these, those related to historical thought are primarily the three categories of portents and omens, divination, and dreams (8).
I think this relates in various significant ways to the emergence of historical thought.
The clearest and most easily understood [examples] are found in divination; regarding matters related to divination in the *Zuo Commentary* and *Guoyu*, even in Japan there was someone who paid attention from the perspective of divination methods—a man named Tanigawa Ryūzan went so far as to write a book titled *A Unified Discourse on the Zuo, Guo, and Yi*, in which most of the divination-related accounts from the *Zuo Commentary* and *Guoyu* are compiled.
As can be understood even from looking at that, generally, these divination-related accounts are mostly all—they undoubtedly contain only the hexagrams that proved accurate—so the hexagrams that did not prove accurate are generally not included.
I believe this likely has its roots in the records of diviners.
As diviners, having performed divinations as part of their professional duties, there was no need to record those that proved inaccurate.
When they record only the accurate ones, their own family’s profession gains distinction.
From such circumstances, they undoubtedly recorded only the accurate hexagrams.
Wang Zhong also noted this point, stating: “Historians, in matters of fortune and misfortune...
“they record only those that have been verified.”
The *Siku Quanshu Tiyao* states: “The *Zuo Commentary* records predictions of fortune and misfortune.
they are all verified.
The *Siku Quanshu Tiyao* goes so far as to state: “[These accounts] likely involve post-facto embellishment.” However, if one considers this matter more earnestly—as Mr. Yasui Sokken of Japan did—it might be interpreted that only morally edifying truths worthy of ethical admonition were recorded. Yet the *Siku Quanshu Tiyao* authors and Wang Zhong viewed it more cynically, noting that only the verified hexagrams ultimately appear in these records.
Among these, there are those that have become significant societal issues—the most prominent verified hexagrams.
This has perhaps even become an issue relating to the very value and authenticity of the *Zuo Commentary* itself, but in China as well, figures like Zhu Xi from seven hundred years ago were rather sharp-witted cynics regarding such matters, offering intriguing critiques.
This matter of critical significance concerns the Tian clan of the state of Qi. The Tian clan seized control of Qi, but their ancestor was a man named Chen Jingzhong, who traveled from the state of Chen to serve in Qi. His descendants prospered greatly and ultimately usurped the state of Qi.
The account of Chen Jingzhong first traveling to the state of Qi to serve there appears in the twenty-second year of Duke Zhuang of Lu in the *Zuo Commentary*, where a divination is recorded. It states that gradually his house would prosper, and after eight generations, there would be no house greater than this.
In response to this, Zhu Xi remarked: “Ah, well—this was written *after* observing how the house had grown large eight generations later; it retroactively recorded the earlier divination.” Zhu Xi states that much of what is called the *Zuo Commentary* was in fact written by later people—because they wrote about a house’s initial rise by tracing backward from its later prosperity they had witnessed, thereby producing these cleverly ‘accurate’ hexagrams.
Thus, since the transition of the state of Qi to the Tian clan occurred at the beginning of the Warring States period, it follows that someone who knew of that time wrote the *Zuo Commentary*—thereby making this [account] one piece of evidence for the era in which the *Zuo Commentary* was recorded.

Furthermore, the state of Jin was later seized by the three families of Han, Wei, and Zhao, becoming a small state. However, when Bi Wan—the founder of Wei—was employed by Jin, there was also a divination recorded.
This Bi Wan was enfeoffed in the land of Wei.
The name Wei signified greatness, and as Wan represented numerical extremity, it was divined that this house would prosper.
Regarding this divination, Zhu Xi and others considered that it too had been written when Wei prospered and divided Jin with Han and Zhao among the three families.
Thus when speaking of Wei's rise to prominence during the era of Marquis Wen, Marquis Wu, and King Hui of Liang of Wei—Zhu Xi theorized this was when the *Zuo Commentary* had been composed in such fashion.
Wang Yinglin documented this in his *Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning* citing Zhu Xi's *Classified Conversations*, though Wang refrained from Zhu's extreme view—maintaining these later accounts were insertions by posterior editors rather than original *Zuo Commentary* text (9).
Setting aside questions of the *Zuo Commentary*'s compilation, I consider this methodology—tracing prosperous descendants back to their origins and initiating narratives from those foundational accounts—to represent profoundly significant historical thought.
Examining works like Japan's *Jinnō Shōtōki* reveals how Fujiwara ideology fully encapsulated notions that their enduring prosperity as regents stemmed from ancestral service by Ame no Koyane no Mikoto to Amaterasu Ōmikami.
I maintain such ideological constructs emerged post-Fujiwara ascendancy through retrospective projection onto antiquity—whereas in China these concepts manifested primarily through divination practices before crystallizing as historical thought.

The same principle applied to dreams and portents as well.
The concept of portents and omens broadly originated from the "auspicious signs" (休徴) and "inauspicious signs" (咎徴) found in the "Hong Fan" chapter of the *Book of Documents*. These signs—indicators of favorable or adverse events—manifested and subsequently yielded outcomes. Works like the Treatise on the Five Phases in "Hong Fan" had been entirely constructed from this framework. While Five Phases theories such as those in the "Hong Fan" Treatise might appear utterly fanciful and absurd, they nonetheless encapsulated the idea that results emerged from causes linked to celestial phenomena, seasonal ordinances, and human affairs. This constituted causal thought—a profoundly significant aspect of ancient historical philosophy.

To clarify this distinction: within Confucianism, such ideas gradually diminished from Confucius’s time onward—indeed, Confucius himself displayed clear opposition to these ancient concepts. In contrast, Mozi retained this ancient thought in a much purer form; his writings still preserved a considerable amount of these peculiar ideas—such as the manifestation of spirits and deities—that lingered from antiquity.
Since such matters appear in the *Minggui* chapter of Mozi’s works, it appears this thought remained widely believed even after the Spring and Autumn period.
When viewed from one perspective, this constitutes a form of historical thought.
Now, considering the Three Commentaries on the Spring and Autumn Annals, such thoughts are most abundantly contained in the *Zuo Commentary*, while works like the *Gongyang Commentary* do not possess these ideas to the same degree.
Therefore, when Zhu Xi and others state that the *Gongyang Commentary* belongs to classical studies whereas the *Zuo Commentary* belongs to historical studies, I believe this perspective likely arises because the *Zuo Commentary* contains such a significant amount of this type of causal thought.
However, the *Gongyang Commentary* possesses yet another distinct historical thought.
I will discuss that again later, but broadly speaking, divination, dreams, and portents/omens—while somewhat akin to etiological narratives—constitute a distinct type of thought that might be termed religious etiological narrative.

Next, these primitive historical thoughts became further refined, giving rise to what might be termed synthetic historical thought.
In Mencius, within the Duke Wen of Teng section, there was a chapter titled “Mencius Fond of Debate,” in which the concept of “one order, one chaos” was vigorously discussed.
Since ancient times, society had followed a cycle of one order and one chaos; from the era of Yao and Shun onward, whenever states gradually achieved temporary order, a time of disorder would inevitably arise next.
Then, after descending into chaos again, someone would emerge to bring order, and another period of order would arise.
Then another period of chaos would emerge—this cycle of one order and one chaos was what Mencius discussed.
This cycle of one order and one chaos constituted a historical thought that profoundly synthesized matters from antiquity; by this stage, it had come to differ little from the distinguished historical thought of later historiography.

Generally speaking, I considered Mencius and the *Gongyang Commentary* to be quite closely related, and thus these two works frequently expounded similar doctrines.
For instance, considerations regarding Confucius's creation of the *Spring and Autumn Annals* and the debates surrounding this matter were recorded in both Mencius and the *Gongyang Commentary* with nearly identical wording down to their very phrases (10).
Furthermore, regarding the *Gongyang Commentary*'s argument on taxation by field area that I had discussed earlier—which stated that one-tenth [of produce] constituted an ideal tax rate, with rates heavier than one-tenth termed "Great Jie" and "Lesser Jie," and those lighter than one-tenth termed "Great Mo" and "Lesser Mo"—this aligned broadly with what Mencius also expounded (11).
As for this point—whether Mencius was the origin or the *Gongyang Commentary* was—that remained unclear; however, it was generally considered that there was no significant difference in their respective eras, and thus both were thought to have held similar ideas.
However, the *Gongyang Commentary* also possessed even more distinctive historical thought.
This constituted the Three Ages—not the Buddhist concept of three lifetimes, but the *Gongyang Commentary*'s Three Ages theory—which held that "accounts differ based on what was seen, what was heard, and what was transmitted." According to this framework, the *Spring and Autumn Annals* period was divided into three eras, advancing from an Age of Disorder through gradual stages to an Age of Ascending Peace and finally an Age of Great Peace.
This was a splendid, idealistic type of historical thought.
Such synthetic historical thought had emerged at a later period; while the *Gongyang Commentary* contained considerable material related to chen (prophetic apocrypha) and prophecy—indeed, there existed a view that regarded the origins of the *Spring and Autumn Annals* itself as a form of prophecy—on the one hand, one might assume it harbored such religious ideas, yet on the other hand, it also possessed an ideally advanced historical thought.
The Three Ages theory I have just mentioned constituted its most advanced historical thought.

When I considered matters in this manner, the origins of Chinese historical thought and the trajectory of its gradual development could be understood as follows: first came the perception of dynastic transitions among the Three Dynasties as concrete historical facts; next emerged the conceptualization that changes across these Three Dynasties originated from Yu’s pacification of waters and lands to establish states; then developed societal-level changes in rituals and customs alongside religious-level causal relationships between human affairs and omens, divination, and dreams—these diverse ideological foundations ultimately coalesced into synthetic historical thought: Mencius’ cycle of order and chaos and the Gongyang Commentary’s Three Ages theory.

It was Sima Qian of the Han era who synthesized these historical thoughts and their resultant facts to create an exemplary history. In the preface to the “Twelve Feudal Lords Chronological Table” within the *Records of the Grand Historian*, he explained the origins of his historical work while detailing methods for compiling ancient historical thought and source materials.

I believed that the developmental path up to that point had unfolded as I had just described.

Having been granted this fortunate opportunity to deliver my lecture here today, I had endeavored to present these matters accordingly.

Notes

(1) Among the various poems in the *Book of Songs*, those containing the auxiliary character 矣 (final particle) are as listed below.

(Zhou Nan) Juan’er Han Guang

(Zhao Nan) He Bi※ (衣+農, pronounced “jō”) Yi

(Bei Airs) Green Robe; The Cock Pheasant; Valley Wind

(Yong Feng) Sang Zhong; Ding zhi Fang Zhong

(Wei Feng) The Rustic; There Is a Fox

(Wang Feng) Zhonggu You※ (grass radical + 推, pronounced “tai”)

(Wei Feng) Yuan You Tao

(Tang Feng) Shan You Shu

(Chen Feng) Graveyard Gate

(Xiao Ya) Changdi Famu; Tianbao; Caiwei; Chuche; Yuli; Liuyue; Mianshui; Sigang; Wuyang; Jie Nanshan; Zhengyue; Shiyue zhi Jiao; Xiaobian; Qiaoyan; Liao’e; Xiaoming; Chuci; Zhan Bi Luo Yi; Shangshang Zhe Hua; Caishu; Durenshi; Xisang; Jianjian zhi Shi; Tiao zhi Hua

(Da Ya) Mian; Huang Yi; Sheng Min; Juan’e; Zhan Ang; Zhao Min

(2) The *Book of Documents*, “Announcement of Zhao” chapter, states:

May the king swiftly practice reverent virtue.
Observe the ancient people of Xia.
天迪從子保。
Personally examine Heaven’s accord.
今時既墜厥命。
Now observe Yin.
天迪格保。
面稽天若。
今時既墜厥命。
今冲子嗣。
則無遺壽考。
曰其稽我古人之徳。
矧曰其有能稽謀自天。

王敬作所不可不敬徳。
We must not fail to reflect upon the Xia.
We must also not fail to reflect upon Yin.
我不敢知。
曰有夏服天命。
惟有歴年。
我不敢知。

曰不其延。
It was solely because they did not revere their virtue.
乃早墜厥命。
We dare not presume to know.
It is said that Yin received the Mandate of Heaven.
[They] endured through years.
We dare not presume to know.
曰不其延。
It was solely because they did not revere their virtue.
Thus they prematurely lost their mandate.
Now the king succeeds to receive the mandate.
We too must consider the mandates of these two states.
Succeed to your merits.

[Let] both superiors and inferiors diligently attend to their cares.
It further declares:
We have received the Mandate of Heaven.
May [our reign] be as long-lasting as that of Xia.
May [our reign] not fall short of Yin's years.

(3) The *Book of Documents*, “Duoshi” chapter, states:

I have heard it said:
Shangdi guides away from excess.
Xia did not moderate their excesses.
Therefore, Shangdi sent down correction.
[Shangdi] directed it toward this Xia.
They could not follow Shangdi.
They were greatly licentious and dissolute, yet had their justifications.
At that time, Heaven did not heed or listen.
Thus [Heaven] abolished their primal mandate.
[Heaven] sent down punishment.
Then [Heaven] commanded your ancestor Cheng Tang to overthrow Xia.
Outstanding men governed the four quarters.
From Cheng Tang to Di Yi,
None failed to manifest virtue and diligently perform sacrifices.
It was also Heaven that greatly established and protected Yin.
The Yin kings also dared not abandon Shangdi.
None failed to correspond to Heaven’s blessings.
Now, the later successor kings greatly failed to be evident to Heaven.
How much less could they have heeded and remembered the diligent service of the former kings to their house?

They recklessly indulged in their excesses.
They showed no regard for Heaven’s manifest will or the people’s reverence.
At this time, Shangdi withheld his protection.
[Shangdi] sent down this great calamity.
"Heaven did not ※ (a character with ‘田’ above a component resembling ‘兀’, read as ‘hi’)."
They did not illuminate their virtue.
In all four quarters, the small and large states fell.
None were without justification for their punishment.

Only you know of the Yin ancestors.
There are records; there are canons.
Yin overthrew Xia's mandate.
Now you again say:
The Xia's selected officials were at the royal court.
They hold office among the hundred officials.
I alone heed and employ virtue; therefore I dare seek you out in the Heavenly City of Shang.
I follow through with leniency and compassion toward you.
It is not my fault.
This is solely due to Heaven’s Mandate.

(4) The *Mao Shi* “Lu Song” states:

The 'Jiong' ode praises Duke Xi.
Duke Xi was able to follow the laws of Boqin.
Through frugality, he ensured sufficient resources.
Through leniency, he cherished the people.
He devoted himself to agriculture and valued grain.
He pastured [livestock] in the distant wilds.
The people of Lu revered him.
Thereupon, Ji Sun Xingfu requested a mandate from Zhou.
And Shi Ke composed this ode.

(5) *Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning*, Volume 20, “Miscellaneous Records,” states:

The *Book of Rites* uses "beginning" (始) for all ritual changes.
The Kong family’s discontinuation of mourning for divorced mothers.
This began with Zisi.
Funeral dirges for scholar-officials.
This began here.
Zhulou performed the soul-summoning ritual using arrows.
This began with the battle at Shengxing.
The ceremonial dance rows of Lu’s women.
In the fifth year of Duke Yin, Jin thereupon began [using] black.
In the 33rd year of Duke Xi, elaborate burials began.
In the second year of Duke Cheng, the use of human sacrifices began.
In the second year of Duke Cheng, Lu thereupon began [※ (a character combining ‘髟’ and ‘坐’, read as ‘sa’)].
In the fourth year of Duke Xiang, Wei Jiang thereupon began to have music of metal and stone.
In the eleventh year of Duke Xiang, [they] began using humans at the Bo She; in the tenth year of Duke Zhao, Lu thereupon began esteeming lambs.
In the eighth year of Duke Ding, [it] also records the beginning of ritual changes.

Furthermore, *Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning* should be read using Weng Yuanqi’s annotated edition for convenience.

(6) *Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning*, Volume 6, states:

Ritual and music emanate from the Son of Heaven.
and presented six rows of feathers.
None but the Son of Heaven may establish regulations.
and thereupon levied taxes on fields.
Therefore, all [cases] were recorded as “beginning.”

.”
For this, one should consult the entry on the first presentation of six rows of feathers in the fifth year of Duke Yin in the *Gongyang Commentary* and the entry on the initial land tax in the fifteenth year of Duke Xuan in the *Zuo Commentary*.

(7) The same book and volume states:

They still upheld the Zhou rituals.
In the first year of Duke Min, Qi still upheld ritual propriety.
In the thirty-third year of Duke Xi, observe the character “still” (猶).
Therefore, the rites had long been abandoned.

As for this, one should consult the chronicles of the years listed above in the *Zuo Commentary*.

(8) One should consult the text in Volume 2 of *Shuxue Neipian* [*Collected Essays*] and *Zuo Commentary and Spring and Autumn Annals Explanations*.

(9) *Classified Conversations of Master Zhu*, Volume 83, states:

[Someone] asked:
"The *Zuo Commentary* records divinations where some could foresee events several generations later. Does such a principle exist?"

He replied: "I fear this is not so. It was simply that their descendants wished to usurp [power], so they fabricated these to deceive superiors and mislead inferiors. Take Emperor Gaozu of Han's snake omen - it was pure fabrication. Chen Sheng ruled as king for merely six months - his failure made people deem it illegitimate. Emperor Gaozu succeeded, so people accepted them as auspicious signs."

It further states:

The Zuo Commentary was made by later people.
Because they saw that the Chen clan had taken Qi.
Therefore, [they] state "after eight generations."
None could rival them.
They saw the three families partitioning Jin.
Therefore, they state [prophecies about] the descendants of dukes and marquises.
“They must return to their beginnings.”
“Speaking in terms of the Three Commentaries.”
"The Zuo Commentary is historiography."
“The *Gong[yang]* and *Gu[liang]* are classical studies.”

*Notes from the Studio of Humbled Learning*, Volume 6, states:

After eight generations.
None could rival them.
In the twenty-second year of Duke Zhuang [Zhuang 22], are these not words from after the Tian clan’s usurpation of Qi?
The descendants of dukes and marquises.
They must return to their beginnings.
In the first year of Duke Min, are these not words from after the three ministers’ partition of Jin?
Those who remained there became the Liu clan.
In the thirteenth year of Duke Wen, were these not additions appended by Han Confucians seeking to establish the *Zuo Commentary*?

None of these are in the original form of the *Zuo Commentary*.

(10) One should consult the chapter “When the Traces of the True Kings Cease, the Songs Perish” in Mencius’ *Lilou* Chapter II and the entry from the twelfth year of Duke Zhao in the *Gongyang Commentary*.

(11) One should consult the entry on the initial land tax in the fifteenth year of Duke Xuan in the *Gongyang Commentary* and the chapter in Mencius’ *Gaozi* II where Bai Gui says, “I wish to take one in twenty parts—what do you think?”