Liang Qichao (1873-1929) was a young colleague and follower of Kang Youwei (1858-1927), a Chinese political thinker and reformer in the late Qing Dynasty. During the failed “100 Days Reform” of 1898, when the Empress Dowager Cixi (1835-1908) ended the reform, Liang Qichao narrowly escaped arrest (and likely execution). He settled into exile in Japan, where he pursued a highly influential career as a writer and publisher of journals, including the popular fortnightly Renewing the People (Xinmin congbao), published between 1902 and 1905. The following is an excerpt from Liang Qichao’s journals.
Renewing the People
What is the most bitter suffering faced in life? One may be inclined to say it’s poverty, disappointment, old age, or even death. But no, it’s none of these! I say the most bitter suffering in life is carrying the burden of an unfulfilled responsibility. If one can be content, poverty is not bitter; if one can be at peace (not having excessive hopes), disappointment is not bitter; old age, sickness, and death are inevitable parts of life, and optimistic people take them in stride, not considering them particularly bitter.
But every day a person lives in this world, there are things they should and need to do. If these things are not done, it’s like having a thousand-pound weight pressing on one’s shoulders — there is no greater bitter suffering than that. Why? Because the pangs of one’s conscience are unbearable, there’s nowhere to escape!
If you promise to do something but don’t, owe money but don’t repay it, receive a favor but don’t repay it, offend someone but don’t apologize, then you almost dare not see that person’s face; even if you don’t see them, their shadow haunts you in your dreams. Why? Because you feel you’ve let them down, because your responsibility towards them is not yet fulfilled! This applies not only to an individual, but also to your family, society, country, and even yourself.

I have a responsibility to anyone to whom I have received kindness; I have a responsibility to everything I should do and am capable of doing; and every action I decide to take is a covenant between my present and future self, an additional layer of responsibility I place on myself.
With this responsibility, my conscience constantly watches over me; if the day’s responsibilities are not fulfilled, the nights will be filled with anguish. If the responsibilities of a lifetime are not fulfilled, one will die in pain, taking it to the grave. This kind of pain is unlike ordinary poverty, sickness, old age, and death, which can be dealt with equanimity. Therefore, I say, if life were without suffering, that would be good; but if there is suffering, nothing is more severe than this.
Conversely, what is the greatest happiness? The fulfillment of one’s natural responsibilities is arguably the first great joy in life. As the old saying goes: “A great weight has been lifted from one’s shoulders”; a common saying goes: “A stone has been lifted from one’s heart.” At this moment, the ease and joy are indescribable. The greater one’s ability, the greater one’s responsibility, and the longer the period of responsibility, the greater the joy when the responsibility is finally fulfilled — a feeling of boundless freedom and peace of mind, multiplied many times over.
Generally speaking, true joy comes from hardship. One must know the hardship of responsibility to know the joy of fulfilling it. This cycle of hardship and joy is one of the pleasures of this vibrant world. Conversely, irresponsibility and the pangs of conscience are self-imposed, bitter suffering. On the other hand, fulfilling one’s responsibilities in all situations brings happiness; fulfilling them at all times brings happiness. The power of happiness lies in one’s own hands. This is precisely the effect of Confucius’s saying: “There is no place where one is not content.”
But why did Mencius also say: “A gentleman has lifelong worries”? Because the more virtuous and heroic one is, the greater the responsibilities he bears; and he constantly carries various responsibilities on his shoulders, never putting them down. Zengzi also said: “The burden is heavy, and the journey is long… to die only after fulfilling it, is that not a long journey?”

The worries of the benevolent and righteous for the people and the nation, the compassion and pity for humanity of the sages and Buddhas — even if they experience suffering throughout their lives, it is all worthwhile. But because he fulfilled his responsibilities every day, he found true joy amidst the hardship. Therefore, he was ultimately happy, not suffering!
Some say: “Since this suffering arises from responsibility, if I were to shirk my responsibilities, wouldn’t I be free from suffering forever?” This is not true. Responsibility only disappears when it is relieved, not simply by being shirked. If life could remain forever like that of a two- or three-year-old child, inherently without responsibility, then there would be no suffering.
As one grows up, responsibility naturally weighs on one’s shoulders; how can one escape it? It’s merely a matter of degree. Fulfilling greater responsibilities brings greater joy; fulfilling smaller responsibilities brings smaller joy. If you try to avoid it, you are throwing yourself into a sea of suffering from which you can never escape.
Translated by Eva and edited by Maria
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