Under the western Han dynasty (202 BC–AD 9), China achieved a new measure of imperial unity, dynastic stability and administrative intensity. Despite a number of occasions of violence and bitter disputes regarding the succession, the house of Liu survived as the acknowledged masters of the empire. But in the meantime the principles of government that had been inherited from the Ch’in dynasty had undergone reform, and simultaneously the period had witnessed major changes in religious practice and intellectual attitudes. The deities who had been worshipped by the kings and emperors of Ch’in and the first nine of the Han rulers had yielded place to heaven as the prime object of the imperial cult. A new view of the universe and of mankind, which had been formulated by an unsuccessful official (Tung Chung-shu), was incorporated into the orthodox philosophy of state. The idea of imperial rule, conducted by a central government, became accepted as the normal and ideal way of governing mankind, despite the criticism that had been levelled against Ch’in’s practices. New ways had been set for training and recruiting officials, which were to leave their stamp upon social hierarchies for some two thousand years of China’s future. All these developments formed part of a single process, manifested in the expression of commonly held beliefs.

Just as the transitional nature of the times stands revealed in a number of historical incidents and developments, so too may it be marked in a number of significant intellectual, scientific and cultural changes.¹ The adoption of the new calendar from 104 BC followed the evolution of a new type of water-clock, which could measure time continuously instead of simply for short, defined periods. Poets such as Ssu-ma Hsiang-ju (died c. 177 BC) were experimenting with the new literary form, of the fu. Writers such as Tung Chung-shu (c. 179-104 BC) and the unnamed authors of the Huai-nan-tzu were penning philosophical treatises that attained a new depth, and which were laid out more systematically than their predecessors. At just this time Ssu-ma Ch’ien’s history was nearing completion. Perhaps some thirty years or so after the reform of the calendar in 104 BC and the affirmation of modernist principles of that year, Han mathematicians produced a systematic textbook of algebra.² In 52 BC the construction of new instruments, termed the Ch’ih-tao-i, may have enabled astronomers to measure the movements of the heavenly bodies in relation to the equator with greater precision than hitherto. It was probably with the use of that equipment, which had not been available to the astronomers of Ssu-ma Ch’ien’s generation, that Liu Hsin (died AD 23) made the calculations necessary for the calendar which was introduced in the first decade of the Christian era.³

These developments were followed by notable intellectual advances during the eastern Han period (AD 25-220). Manuscripts found recently at Wu-wei, in north-west China, reveal the extent of the medical skills achieved in the first decades of that period.⁴ A calendar that was yet further refined was introduced in AD 85; at much the same time Fu An, who was probably the first Chinese astronomer to measure the obliquity of the ecliptic, evolved a more accurate set of astronomical instruments; this was the Huang-tao-i, constructed in AD 103. Wang Ch’ung, whose radical scepticism had cast a new light on China’s scientific outlook, had died a few years previously. The beginning of the second century AD saw the introduction of a more accurate system of measuring time; the manufacture of a paper-like substance that was intended for writing; and the compilation of the Shuo-wen dictionary. In this last work Hsü Shen provided a tool that has been the first call of scholars and textual critics ever since. These advances led in turn to the dramatic achievements of Chang Heng, whose armillary sphere of AD 124 was shortly followed by his famous seismograph.

Engaged as they were in achieving these results and applying their skills to the solution of everyday problems of agriculture, engineering and transport, the philosophers and scientists of the Han age were also addressing their intellects to other, major problems. Three particular issues recur in the writings of contemporary philosophers; the problem of evil, the authority of government and the question of a life after death. Two of these are frequently reflected in Han art; it may be noted that in two of the subjects which are considered below (i.e., TLV mirrors and the Queen Mother of the West) Han artists have associated the last of these questions with the first.

The problem of evil was concerned with calamities which apparently took place without cause, and which wrought violence and havoc on all men alike, be they just or unjust, good or wicked, nobleman or slave. The question arose of what steps could be taken, if any, to avert such calamities and to prevent the disruption of the normal conditions of peaceful and prosperous living. As such steps would devolve on those who claimed the right to act on behalf of the whole population and to order their activities, the second question was immediately involved. It became necessary to determine the capacity, religious or civil, in which an emperor and his government were entitled to act, and to determine the nature of the authority whereby an emperor and his officials could claim obedience and loyalty. These issues soon involved consideration of a cosmic scheme which would encompass the activities of man on earth. Han artists, if not Han philosophers, were also sometimes tempted to associate the third major problem in the same context. This concerned the fate that awaited man after death, were it to be happy or distasteful. This in turn provoked other enquiries; what elements of man, if any, could be expected to survive the death of the body; and what steps could be taken to provide for the welfare or happiness of those elements.

To the Han Chinese the problem of evil was a matter of cosmic order rather than theology, ethics or psychology. Indeed, long before the Han period Chinese thinkers had addressed themselves to the need to find a scheme of ordered regulation of the universe. The initial enquiries were probably started as a result of observations that must surely be made, even if they are not recorded, by all pioneer scientists, be they from Babylonia, Greece or China, be they of Jewish, Christian or Buddhist persuasion. This is the realisation that all that may be observed, of mind or matter, is subject to change. The regular and irregular movements of the heavenly bodies illustrate this truth in the skies; the growth and decay of the trees and plants that bedeck the earth display the beautiful workings of the principle below; and the rise of man to the heights of fortune one day, his fall to the depths of despair the next, showed the Chinese that he too, despite all his wisdom and cleverness, is likewise subject to the same recurring process.

It is within this perpetuum mobile that there occur those apparently causeless acts of violence to which human frailty is often exposed. Like others, the Chinese were anxious to seek the reasons for such occurrences, in the hope that they could be averted, or at least understood, or even predicted. The search for reason, for cosmic pattern or regularity, led to three possible solutions, all of which commanded a following in western Han times. The first of these theories or attitudes was centred on nature; it may be loosely described as naturalist, or Taoist, so long as it is distinguished both from the mysticism associated with Chuang tzu, and from the religious observances and disciplines evolved by the Taoist church at the end of the Han period. The second explanation looked to the force of destiny and its arbitrary whim; it afforded scope for divination in an attempt to avert the worst consequences of change. The third solution was the one that was to become accepted as official and orthodox dogma; this looked to the part played by man in determining the cosmic order and it recognized a positive controlling influence that was exercised by heaven. This scheme may be described loosely as Confucian, provided that it is distinguished clearly both from the personal and ethical teachings ascribed to Confucius, and from the social and political hierarchies of state which were later laid at his door.

The naturalist scheme is expounded in the Huai-nan-tzu, a fascinating and difficult text which still awaits the full attention of scholars and textual critics.⁵ Probably the book includes opinions which were held in some of the highest and noblest circles of the empire during the reigns of Wen ti (180-157 BC) and Ching ti (157-141 BC), when it is known that the Dowager Empress favoured a Taoist approach.⁶

The scheme saw the universe as a single organic whole which was partly comparable with the human body and its organs. The heavens were divided into twelve sections, being held together by two ‘ropes’, and marked by four specially important nodal points at the corners.⁷ Corresponding to the brain and heart, which exercise a paramount influence over the decisions and movements of the body, the Tao constituted the inbuilt natural rhythm of the universe, regulating the orbits of the celestial bodies, the succession of the seasons on earth, the growth and death of living creatures, and other regular systematic changes. The question is therefore raised why calamities and acts of violence occur, in a universe that is informed by this all-pervasive rhythm and pattern. The answer is to be found, regrettably, in man who, while but a single one of the myriad objects of creation, is nonetheless capable of exerting undue pressures on the other objects of his environment. For, thanks to his superior capacity, he can interfere in the workings of the cosmos to a violent and wholly disproportionate extent.

Provided that man will be ready to obey his natural instincts without indulging in greed_; his pressures will not be excessive. The results of his activities will be satisfactory so long as he will conform with the natural order of creation rather than challenge its regimen. Human activities will then correspond with the movements in the heavens and on earth; and they will not run counter to the variations in climate and season. There will follow an abundant prosperity of the natural creative work of the earth and an absence of untoward manifestations in the skies. However, totally different results follow if man abuses his superior powers so as to denude nature of her riches. They ensue if he never ceases to tear jade and precious metals from the earth’s body so as to adorn his person; if he destroys forest and vegetation, or sacrifices animal life, solely in the pursuit of artificial pleasures or ephemeral values. There will then follow a general upset of the natural order, or Tao, together with its consequential calamities. Mankind will suffer the effects of uncontrolled competition and greed; plants and trees will fail to sprout or blossom, in an earth that lies wounded; and thunder and storm will reverberate in the heavens. In this way violent and strange phenomena take place when mankind ignores or infringes the natural order of the cosmos, in order to indulge his material pleasures.⁸

According to the second scheme the cosmos should be viewed as a series of situations which develop from one to the next by means of very simple and gradual changes. Strange phenomena, including those incidents which appear to be of extreme violence, are no more than examples of these different situations, which all possess equal validity and significance in the cosmos. The nature of change, if correctly understood, is thus gradual rather than precipitate; it comes about as part of the world order rather than as a result of episodic or purposeful action. This scheme is ascribed to the Book of Changes (I-ching) and is expounded in its many accretions. The eight trigrams symbolize the two basic estates of heaven and earth and the six elements of creation, i.e. thunder, wind, water, fire, mountain and lake. The sixty-four hexagrams symbolize the situations that have been evolved by combinations of the two estates and the six elements; they represent the complex situations of which one is in existence at any single moment of time.

Violent forces then are not to be regarded as abnormal; change comes about from one situation to another as easily as the single line of a pattern is transformed into a broken line. If one could but ascertain which one of the sixy-four situations prevails, it would be possible to adjust one’s behaviour accordingly so as to attain conformity. Various techniques of divination were therefore applied to the I-ching with a view to ascertaining the future. It became an approved source of counsel to which officials and governments could respectfully resort; and its importance was well recognized during the Ch’in and western Han periods.⁹

From the Han period onwards the Taoist approach and the attention paid to the I-ching developed in manifold ways and exerted major influences on Chinese thought. But neither scheme could provide a satisfactory answer to the problem of evil which could bring immediate comfort or conviction. According to the naturalist scheme, while man is capable, at his best moments, of living in accord with nature, and, in his worst moments, of upsetting the natural order, he cannot take positive steps to control violence or to avert disruptive change. The injunction of the I-ching to look at the place of particular events within this major cosmic context could hardly divert an observer from the immediate havoc wrought by storm or the fears engendered by an eclipse. The new attitude to the cosmos which became formulated shortly before 100 BC derived partly from the other two and filled some of their deficiencies. It conceded that man possessed some means of preventing the worst occurrences from taking place; it did not seek to explain the freaks of nature merely as incidents of gradual change from one normal situation to another.

The Confucian scheme conceived the cosmos as consisting of the three estates of heaven, earth and man, whose activities were ordered by the two basic powers of Yin and Yang working through five phases. As it imposed considerable responsibilities on man, it may be described as a man-centred scheme; and its adoption from about 70 BC or so is sometimes described rather loosely as the victory of Han Confucianism.

In fact the scheme drew on concepts that had been formulated from the fourth century BC or earlier; it was elaborated by Tung Chung-shu, shortly before 100 BC, so as to incorporate ...