No More Learning

Henceforth, though for thirteen years he continued to hold nominal
posts, he lived a life of retirement. In 832 he repaired an unoccupied
part of the Hsiang-shan monastery at Lung-m? n,[46] a few miles south of
Lo-yang, and lived there, calling himself the Hermit of Hsiang-shan.
Once he invited to dinner eight other elderly and retired officials; the
occasion was recorded in a picture entitled "The Nine Old Men at
Hsiang-shan. " There is no evidence that his association with them was
otherwise than transient, though legend (see "Memoires Concernant les
Chinois" and Giles, Biographical Dictionary) has invested the incident
with an undue importance. He amused himself at this time by writing a
description of his daily life which would be more interesting if it were
not so closely modelled on a famous memoir by T'ao Ch'ien. In the winter
of 839 he was attacked by paralysis and lost the use of his left leg.
After many months in bed he was again able to visit his garden, carried
by Ju-man, a favourite monk.

[46] Famous for its rock-sculptures, carved in the sixth and seventh
centuries.

In 842 Liu Yu-hsi, the last survivor of the four friends, and a constant
visitor at the monastery, "went to wander with Yuan Ch? n in Hades. " The
monk Ju-man also died.

The remaining years of Po's life were spent in collecting and arranging
his Complete Works. Copies were presented to the principal monasteries
(the "Public Libraries" of the period) in the towns with which he had
been connected. He died in 846, leaving instructions that his funeral
should be without pomp and that he should be buried not in the family
tomb at Hsia-kuei, but by Ju-man's side in the Hsiang-shan Monastery.
He
desired that a posthumous title should not be awarded.

The most striking characteristic of Po Chu-i's poetry is its verbal
simplicity. There is a story that he was in the habit of reading his
poems to an old peasant woman and altering any expression which she
could not understand. The poems of his contemporaries were mere elegant
diversions which enabled the scholar to display his erudition, or the
literary juggler his dexterity. Po expounded his theory of poetry in a
letter to Yuan Ch? n. Like Confucius, he regarded art solely as a method
of conveying instruction. He is not the only great artist who has
advanced this untenable theory. He accordingly valued his didactic poems
far above his other work; but it is obvious that much of his best poetry
conveys no moral whatever. He admits, indeed, that among his
"miscellaneous stanzas" many were inspired by some momentary sensation
or passing event. "A single laugh or a single sigh were rapidly
translated into verse. "

The didactic poems or "satires" belong to the period before his first
banishment. "When the tyrants and favourites heard my Songs of Ch'in,
they looked at one another and changed countenance," he boasts. Satire,
in the European sense, implies _wit_; but Po's satires are as lacking in
true wit as they are unquestionably full of true poetry. We must regard
them simply as moral tales in verse.

In the conventional lyric poetry of his predecessors he finds little to
admire.