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1: Is azure the proper colour of the sky?
IN THE Northern Ocean there is a fish, the name of which is Kun [1],—I do
not know how many li in size. It changes into a bird with the name of Peng,
the back of which is (also)—I do not know how many li in extent. When this
bird rouses itself and flies, its wings are like clouds all round the sky.
When the sea is moved (so as to bear it along), it prepares to remove to the
Southern Ocean [darkness]. The Southern Ocean is the Lake of Heaven.
There is the (book called) The
Universal Harmony [2],—a record of marvels. We have in it these
words:—'When the Peng journeys to the Southern Ocean it flaps (its wings) on
the water for 3000 li. Then it ascends on a whirlwind 90,000 li, and it
rests only at the end of six months.' (But similar to this is the movement
of the breezes which we call) the horses of the fields, of the dust (which
quivers in the sunbeams), and of living things as they are blown against one
another by the air [3]. Is its azure the proper colour of the sky? Or is it
occasioned by its distance and illimitable extent? If one were looking down
(from above), the very same appearance would just meet his view.
2: The mushroom of the morning: Return to a third
meal
IF WATER is not heaped up deep enough, it will not have the strength to
support a big boat. Upset a cup of water in a cavity, and a straw will float
on it as if it were a boat. Place a cup in it, and it will stick fast; —the
water is shallow and the boat is large. (So it is with) the accumulation of
wind; if it be not great, it will not have strength to support great wings.
Therefore (the Peng ascended to) the height of 90,000 li, and there was such
a mass of wind beneath it; thenceforth the accumulation of wind was
sufficient. As it seemed to bear the blue sky on its back, and there was
nothing to obstruct or arrest its course, it could pursue its way to the
South.
A cicada and a little dove laughed at it,
saying, 'We make an effort and fly towards an elm or sapan-wood tree; and
sometimes before we reach it, we can do no more but drop to the ground. Of
what use is it for this (creature) to rise 90,000 li, and make for the
South?'
He who goes to the grassy suburbs
[1], returning to the third meal (of the day), will have his belly as full
as when he set out; he who goes to a distance of 100 li will have to pound
his grain where he stops for the night; he who goes a thousand li, will have
to carry with him provisions for three months. What should these two small
creatures know about the matter? The knowledge of that which is small does
not reach to that which is great; (the experience of) a few years does not
reach to that of many. How do we know that it is so? The mushroom of a
morning does not know (what takes place between) the beginning and end of a
month; the short-lived cicada does not know (what takes place between) the
spring and autumn. These are instances of a short term of life. In the south
of Ku [2], there is the (tree) called Ming-ling [3], whose spring is 500
years, and its autumn the same; in high antiquity there was that called Ta
Khun [4], whose spring was 8000 years, and its autumn the same. And Master
Peng [5] is the one man renowned to the present day for his length of
life:—if all men were (to wish) to match him, would they not be miserable?
3: Judgement energies
IN THE questions put by Tang [1] to Ki we have similar statements:—'In
the bare and barren north there is the dark and vat ocean,—the Pool of
Heaven. In it there is a fish, several thousand li in breadth, while no one
knows its length. Its name is the Kun. There is (also) a bird named the Peng;
its back is like the Tai mountain, while its wings are like clouds all round
the sky. On a whirlwind it mounts upwards as on the whorls of a goat's horn
for 90,000 li, till, far removed from the cloudy vapours, it bears on its
back the blue sky, and then it shapes its course for the South, and proceeds
to the ocean there.' A quail by the side of a marsh laughed at it, and said,
'Where is it going to? I spring up with a bound, and come down again when I
have reached but a few fathoms, and then fly about among the brushwood and
bushes; and this is the perfection of flying. Where is that creature going
to?'
This shows the difference between the
small and the great.
Thus it is that men, whose wisdom is
sufficient for the duties of some one office, or whose conduct will secure
harmony in some one district, or whose virtue is befitting a ruler so that
they could efficiently govern some one state, are sure to look on themselves
in this manner (like the quail), and yet Master Jung [2] of Sung [3] would
have smiled and laughed at them. (This Master Jung), though the whole world
should have praised him, would not for that have stimulated himself to
greater endeavour, and though the whole world should have condemned him,
would not have exercised any more repression of his course; so fixed was he
in the difference between the internal (judgement of himself) and the
external (judgement of others), so distinctly had he marked out the bounding
limit of glory and disgrace. Here, however, he stopped. His place in the
world indeed had become indifferent to him, but still he had not planted
himself firmly (in the right position).
There was
Master Lieh (Lieh Tzu) [4],
who rode on the wind and pursued his way with an admirable indifference (to
all external things), returning, however, after fifteen days, (to his
place). In regard to the things that (are supposed to) contribute to
happiness, he was free from all endeavours to obtain them; but though he had
not to walk, there was still something for which he had to wait. But suppose
one who mounts on (the ether of) heaven and earth in its normal operation,
and drives along the six elemental energies of the changing (seasons), thus
enjoying himself in the illimitable,—what has he to wait for'? Therefore it
is said, 'The Perfect man has no (thought of) self; the Spirit-like man,
none of merit; the Sagely-minded man, none of fame [5].'
4: Names are like guests of reality -
Yao, proposing to resign the throne to Hsü Yu, said,
'When the sun and moon have come forth, if
the torches have not been put out, would it not be difficult for them to
give light? When the seasonal rains are coming down, if we still keep
watering the ground, will not our toil be labour lost for all the good it
will do? Do you, Master, stand forth (as sovereign), and the kingdom will
(at once) be well governed. If I still (continue to) preside over it, I must
look on myself as vainly occupying the place; —I beg to resign the throne to
you.'
Hsü Yu said,
'You, Sir, govern the kingdom, and the
kingdom is well governed. If I in these circumstances take your place, shall
I not be doing so for the sake of the name? But the name is but the guest of
the reality; —shall I be playing the part of the guest? The tailor-bird
makes its nest in the deep forest, but only uses a single branch; the mole
drinks from the Ho, but only takes what fills its belly. Return and rest in
being ruler,—I will have nothing to do with the throne. Though the cook were
not attending to his kitchen, the representative of the dead and the officer
of prayer would not leave their cups and stands to take his place.'
5: Far away on a hill there lived someone who
preserved a plentiful harvest
Kien Wu asked Lien Shu, saying,
'I heard Khieh-yu talking words which were
great, but had nothing corresponding to them (in reality); -once gone, they
could not be brought back. I was frightened by them; —they were like the
Milky Way which cannot be traced to its beginning or end. They had no
connexion with one another, and were not akin to the experiences of men.'
'What were his words?' asked Lien Shu, and
the other replied,
'(He said) that 'Far away on the hill of Ku
She there dwelt a Spirit-like man whose flesh and skin were (smooth) as ice
and (white) as snow; that his manner was elegant and delicate as that of a
virgin; that he did not eat any of the five grains, but inhaled the wind and
drank the dew; that he mounted on the clouds, drove along the flying
dragons, rambling and enjoying himself beyond the four seas; that by the
concentration of his spirit-like powers he could save men from disease and
pestilence, and secure every year a plentiful harvest.'
These words appeared to me wild and
incoherent and I did not believe them.
'So it is,' said Lien Shu. 'The blind have
no perception of the beauty of elegant figures, nor the deaf of the sound of
bells and drums. But is it only the bodily senses of which deafness and
blindness can be predicated? There is also a similar defect in the
intelligence; and of this your words supply an illustration in yourself.
That man, with those attributes, though all things were one mass of
confusion, and he heard in that condition the whole world crying out to him
to be rectified, would not have to address himself laboriously to the task,
as if it were his business to rectify the world. Nothing could hurt that
man; the greatest floods, reaching to the sky, could not drown him, nor
would he feel the fervour of the greatest heats melting metals and stones
till they flowed, and scorching all the ground and hills. From the dust and
chaff of himself, he could still mould and fashion Yaos and Shuns; how
should he be willing to occupy himself with things?'
6: Oblivious eyes indicate lack of interest in
ruling the people
A man of Sung, who dealt in the ceremonial caps (of Yin), went with them
to Yüeh, the people of which cut off their hair and tattooed their bodies,
so that they had no use for them. Yao ruled the people of the kingdom, and
maintained a perfect government within the four seas. Having gone to see the
four (Perfect) Ones on the distant hill of Ku She, when (he returned to his
capital) on the south of the Fen water, his throne appeared no more to his
deep-sunk oblivious eyes.
7: Considering the good uses of many things
Master Hui told Master Chuang, saying,
'The king of Wei sent me some seeds of a
large calabash, which I sowed. The fruit, when fully grown, could contain
five piculs (of anything). I used it to contain water, but it was so heavy
that I could not lift it by myself. I cut it in two to make the parts into
drinking vessels; but the dried shells were too wide and unstable and would
not hold (the liquor); nothing but large useless things! Because of their
uselessness I knocked them to pieces.'
Master Chuang replied,
'You were indeed stupid in the use of what
was large. There was a man of Sung who was skilful at making a salve which
kept the hands from getting chapped; and (his family) for generations had
made the bleaching of cocoon-silk their business. A stranger heard of it,
and proposed to buy the art of the preparation for a hundred ounces of
silver. The kindred all came together, and considered the proposal. "We
have," said they, "been bleaching cocoon-silk for generations, and have only
gained a little money. Now in one morning we can sell to this man our art
for a hundred ounces; —let him have it." The stranger accordingly got it and
went away with it to give counsel to the king of Wu, who was then engaged in
hostilities with Yüeh. The king gave him the command of his fleet, and in
the winter he had an engagement with that of Yüeh, on which he inflicted a
great defeat, and was invested with a portion of territory taken from Yüeh.
The keeping the hands from getting chapped was the same in both cases; but
in the one case it led to the investiture (of the possessor of the salve),
and in the other it had only enabled its owners to continue their bleaching.
The difference of result was owing to the different use made of the art. Now
you, Sir, had calabashes large enough to hold five piculs; —why did you not
think of making large bottle-gourds of them, by means of which you could
have floated over rivers and lakes, instead of giving yourself the sorrow of
finding that they were useless for holding anything. Your mind, my master,
would seem to have been closed against all intelligence!'
7b: The useless tree
Master Hui said to Master Chuang, 'I have a large tree, which men call
the Ailantus. Its trunk swells out to a large size, but is not fit for a
carpenter to apply his line to it; its smaller branches are knotted and
crooked, so that the disk and square cannot be used on them. Though planted
on the wayside, a builder would not turn his head to look at it. Now your
words, Sir, are great, but of no use; —all unite in putting them away from
them.'
Master Chuang replied,
'Have you never seen a wildcat or a weasel?
There it lies, crouching and low, till the wanderer approaches; east and
west it leaps about, avoiding neither what is high nor what is low, till it
is caught in a trap, or dies in a net. Again there is the Yak, so large that
it is like a cloud hanging in the sky. It is large indeed, but it cannot
catch mice. You, Sir, have a large tree and are troubled because it is of no
use; —why do you not plant it in a tract where there is nothing else, or in
a wide and barren wild? There you might saunter idly by its side, or in the
enjoyment of untroubled ease sleep beneath it. Neither bill nor axe would
shorten its existence; there would be nothing to injure it. What is there in
its uselessness to cause you distress?'
1: Heavenly music
Tzu Ki was seated, leaning forward on his stool. He was looking up to
heaven and breathed gently, seeming to be in a trance, and to have lost all
consciousness of any companion.
(His disciple), Yen Master Keng Yu, who was
in attendance and standing before him, said,
'What is this? Can the body be made to
become thus like a withered tree, and the mind to become like slaked lime?
His appearance as he leans forward on the stool today is such as I never saw
him have before in the same position.'
Tzu Ki said,
'Yen, you do well to ask such a question, I
had just now lost myself; but how should you understand it? You may have
heard the notes of Man, but have not heard those of Earth; you may have
heard the notes of Earth, but have not heard those of Heaven.'
Tzu Yu said,
'I venture to ask from you a description of
all these.'
The reply was,
'When the breath of the Great Mass (of
nature) comes strongly, it is called Wind. Sometimes it does not come so;
but when it does, then from a myriad apertures there issues its excited
noise; —have you not heard it in a prolonged gale? Take the projecting bluff
of a mountain forest; —in the great trees, a hundred spans round, the
apertures and cavities are like the nostrils, or the mouth, or the ears; now
square, now round like a cup or a mortar; here like a wet footprint, and
there like a large puddle. (The sounds issuing from them are like) those of
fretted water, of the arrowy whizz, of the stern command, of the inhaling of
the breath, of the shout, of the gruff note, of the deep wail, of the sad
and piping note. The first notes are slight, and those that follow deeper,
but in harmony with them. Gentle winds produce a small response; violent
winds a great one. When the fierce gusts have passed away, all the apertures
are empty (and still); —have you not seen this in the bending and quivering
of the branches and leaves?'
Tzu Yu said,
'The notes of Earth then are simply those
which come from its myriad apertures; and the notes of Man may just be
compared to those which (are brought from the tubes of) bamboo; —allow me to
ask about the notes of Heaven.'
Tzu Ki replied,
'When (the wind) blows, (the sounds from)
the myriad apertures are different, and (its cessation) makes them stop of
themselves. Both of these things arise from (the wind and the apertures)
themselves:—should there be any other agency that excites them?'
2: The world of changes
Great knowledge is wide and comprehensive; small knowledge is partial and
restricted. Great speech is exact and complete; small speech is (merely) so
much talk. When we sleep, the soul communicates with (what is external to
us); when we awake, the body is set free. Our intercourse with others then
leads to various activity, and daily there is the striving of mind with
mind. There are hesitancies; deep difficulties; reservations; small
apprehensions causing restless distress, and great apprehensions producing
endless fears. Where their utterances are like arrows from a bow, we have
those who feel it their charge to pronounce what is right and what is wrong.
Where they are given out like the conditions of a covenant, we have those
who maintain their views, determined to overcome. (The weakness of their
arguments), like the decay (of things) in autumn and winter, shows the
failing (of the minds of some) from day to day; or it is like their water
which, once voided, cannot be gathered up again. Then their ideas seem as if
fast bound with cords, showing that the mind is become like an old and dry
moat, and that it is nigh to death, and cannot be restored to vigour and
brightness.
Joy and anger, sadness and pleasure,
anticipation and regret, fickleness and fixedness, vehemence and indolence,
eagerness and tardiness; —(all these moods), like music from an empty tube,
or mushrooms from the warm moisture, day and night succeed to one another
and come before us, and we do not know whence they sprout. Let us stop! Let
us stop! Can we expect to find out suddenly how they are produced?
If there were not (the views of) another, I
should not have mine; if there were not I (with my views), his would be
uncalled for:—this is nearly a true, statement of the case, but we do not
know what it is that makes it be so. It might seem as if there would be a
true Governor concerned in it, but we do not find any trace (of his presence
and acting). That such an One could act so I believe; but we do not see His
form. He has affections, but He has no form.
3: The true Ruler inside
GIVEN the body, with its hundred parts, its nine openings, and its six
viscera, all complete in their places, which do I love the most? Do you love
them all equally? or do you love some more than others? Is it not the case
that they all perform the part of your servants and waiting women? All of
them being such, are they not incompetent to rule one another? or do they
take it in turns to be now ruler and now servants? There must be a true
Ruler (among them) whether by searching you can find out His character or
not, there is neither advantage nor hurt, so far as the truth of His
operation is concerned. When once we have received the bodily form complete,
its parts do not fail to perform their functions till the end comes. In
conflict with things or in harmony with them, they pursue their course to
the end, with the speed of a galloping horse which cannot be stopped; —is it
not sad? To be constantly toiling all one's lifetime, without seeing the
fruit of one's labour, and to be weary and worn out with his labour, without
knowing where he is going to:-is it not a deplorable case? Men may say, 'But
it is not death; yet of what advantage is this? When the body is decomposed,
the mind will be the same along with it: —must not the case be pronounced
very deplorable? Is the life of man indeed enveloped in such darkness? Is it
I alone to whom it appears so? And does it not appear to be so to other
men?'
If we were to follow the judgements of the
predetermined mind, who would be left alone and without a teacher? Not only
would it be so with those who know the sequences (of knowledge and feeling)
and make their own selection among them, but it would be so as well with the
stupid and unthinking. For one who has not this determined mind, to have his
affirmations and negations is like the case described in the saying, 'He
went to Yüeh to- day, and arrived at it yesterday.'
It would be making what was not a fact to
be a fact. But even the spirit-like Yü could not have known how to do this,
and how should one like me be able to do it?
4. Sub specie aeternitatis
But speech is not like the blowing (of the wind) the speaker has (a
meaning in) his words. If, however, what he says, be indeterminate (as from
a mind not made up), does he then really speak or not? He thinks that his
words are different from the chirpings of fledgelings; but is there any
distinction between them or not? But how can the Tao be so obscured, that
there should be 'a True' and 'a False' in it? How can speech be so obscured
that there should be 'the Right' and 'the Wrong' about them? Where shall the
Tao go to that it will not be found? Where shall speech be found that it
will be inappropriate? Tao becomes obscured through the small comprehension
(of the mind), and speech comes to be obscure through the vain-gloriousness
(of the speaker). So it is that we have the contentions between the Literati
and the Mohists, the one side affirming what the other denies, and vice
versâ. If we would decide on their several affirmations and denials, no plan
is like bringing the (proper) light (of the mind) to bear on them.
All subjects may be looked at from (two
points of view),—from that and from this. If I look at a thing from
another's point of view, I do not see it; only as I know it myself, do I
know it. Hence it is said,
'That view comes from this; and this view
is a consequence of that:'—which is the theory that that view an dthis—(the
opposite view)—produce each the other. Although it be so, there is affirmed
now life and now death; now death and now life; now the admissibility of a
thing and now its inadmissibility; now its inadmissibility and now its
admissibility. (The disputants) now affirm and now deny; now deny and now
affirm. Therefore the sagely man does not pursue this method, but views
things in the light of (his) Heaven (-ly nature), and hence forms his
judgement of what is right.
2:
The disciples of Master Mih, or Mih Ti, the heresiarch, whom Mencius
attacked so fiercely; —see Mencius, V, 1, 5, e t al. His era must be
assigned between Confucius and Mencius.
This view is the same as that, and that
view is the same as this. But that view involves both a right and a wrong;
and this view involves also a right and a wrong:—are there indeed, or are
there not the two views, that and this? They have not found their point of
correspondency which is called the pivot of the Tao. As soon as one finds
this pivot, he stands in the centre of the ring (of thought), where he can
respond without end to the changing views; —without end to those affirming,
and without end to those denying. Therefore I said,
'There is nothing like the proper light (of
the mind).'
4:
By means of a finger (of my own) to illustrate that the finger (of
another) is not a finger is not so good a plan as to illustrate that it is
not so by means of what is (acknowledged to be) not a finger; and by means
of (what I call) a horse to illustrate that (what another calls) a horse is
not so, is not so good a plan as to illustrate that it is not a horse, by
means of what is (acknowledged to be) not a horse. (All things in) heaven
and earth may be (dealt with as) a finger; (each of) their myriads may be
(dealt with as) a horse. Does a thing seem so to me? (I say that) it is so.
Does it seem not so to me? (I say that) it is not so. A path is formed by
(constant) treading on the ground. A thing is called by its name through the
(constant) application of the name to it. How is it so? It is so because it
is so. How is it not so? It is not so, because it is not so. Everything has
its inherent character and its proper capability. There is nothing which has
not these. Therefore, this being so, if we take a stalk of grain and a
(large) pillar, a loathsome (leper) and (a beauty like) Hsi Shih, things
large and things insecure, things crafty and things strange; —they may in
the light of the Tao all be reduced to the same category (of opinion about
them).
It was separation that led to completion;
from completion ensued dissolution. But all things, without regard to their
completion and dissolution, may again be comprehended in their unity; —it is
only the far reaching in thought who know how to comprehend them in this
unity. This being so, let us give up our devotion to our own views, and
occupy ourselves with the ordinary views. These ordinary views are grounded
on the use of things. (The study of that) use leads to the comprehensive
judgement, and that judgement secures the success (of the inquiry). That
success gained, we are near (to the object of our search), and there we
stop. When we stop, and yet we do not know how it is so, we have what is
called the Tao.
When we toil our spirits and intelligence,
obstinately determined (to establish our own view), and do not know the
agreement (which underlies it and the views of others), we have what is
called 'In the morning three.'
What is meant by that 'In the morning
three?'
A keeper of monkeys, in giving them out
their acorns, (once) said,
'In the morning I will give you three
(measures) and in the evening four.'
This made them all angry, and he said,
'Very well. In the morning I will give you
four and in the evening three.'
His two proposals were substantially the
same, but the result of the one was to make the creatures angry, and of the
other to make them pleased:—an illustration of the point I am insisting on.
Therefore the sagely man brings together a dispute in its affirmations and
denials, and rests in the equal fashioning of Heaven. Both sides of the
question are admissible.
5:
Among the men of old their knowledge reached the extreme point. What was
that extreme point? Some held that at first there was not anything. This is
the extreme point, the utmost point to which nothing can be added. A second
class held that there was something, but without any responsive recognition
of it (on the part of men).
A third class held that there was such
recognition, but there had not begun to be any expression of different
opinions about it. It was through the definite expression of different
opinions about it that there ensued injury to (the doctrine of) the Tao. It
was this injury to the (doctrine of the) Tao which led to the formation of
(partial) preferences. Was it indeed after such preferences were formed that
the injury came? or did the injury precede the rise of such preferences? If
the injury arose after their formation, Kâo's method of playing on the lute
was natural. If the injury arose before their formation, there would have
been no such playing on the lute as Kâo's.
Kâo Wän's playing on the lute, Shih Kwang's
indicating time with his staff, and Master Hui's (giving his views), while
leaning against a dryandra tree (were all extraordinary). The knowledge of
the three men (in their several arts) was nearly perfect, and therefore they
practised them to the end of their lives. They loved them because they were
different from those of others. They loved them and wished to make them
known to others. But as they could not be made clear, though they tried to
make them so, they ended with the obscure (discussions) about 'the hard' and
'the White.'
And their sons, moreover, with all the
threads of their fathers' compositions, yet to the end of their lives
accomplished nothing. If they, proceeding in this way, could be said to have
succeeded, then am I also successful; if they cannot be pronounced
successful, neither I nor any other can succeed.
Therefore the scintillations of light from
the midst of confusion and perplexity are indeed valued by the sagely man;
but not to use one's own views and to take his position on the ordinary
views is what is called using the (proper) light.
6:
But here now are some other sayings:—I do not know whether they are of
the same character as those which I have already given, or of a different
character. Whether they be of the same character or not when looked at along
with them, they have a character of their own, which cannot be distinguished
from the others. But though this be the case, let me try to explain myself.
There was a beginning. There was a
beginning before that beginning. There was a beginning previous to that
beginning before there was the beginning.
There was existence; there had been no
existence. There was no existence before the beginning of that no existence.
There was no existence previous to the no existence before there was the
beginning of the no existence. If suddenly there was nonexistence, we do not
know whether it was really anything existing, or really not existing. Now I
have said what I have said, but I do not know whether what I have said be
really anything to the point or not.
Under heaven there is nothing greater than
the tip of an autumn down, and the Tai mountain is small. There is no one
more long-lived than a child which dies prematurely, and Master Peng did not
live out his time. Heaven, Earth, and I were produced together, and all
things and I are one. Since they are one, can there be speech about them?
But since they are spoken of as one, must there not be room for speech? One
and Speech are two; two and one are three. Going on from this (in our
enumeration), the most skilful reckoner cannot reach (the end of the
necessary numbers), and how much less can ordinary people do so! Therefore
from non-existence we proceed to existence till we arrive at three;
proceeding from existence to existence, to how many should we reach? Let us
abjure such procedure, and simply rest here.
7:
The Tao at first met with no responsive recognition. Speech at first had
no constant forms of expression. Because of this there came the demarcations
(of different views). Let me describe those demarcations:-they are the Left
and the Right; the Relations and their Obligations; Classifications and
their Distinctions; Emulations and Contentions. These are what are called
'the Eight Qualities.'
Outside the limits of the world of men, the
sage occupies his thoughts, but does not discuss about anything; inside
those limits he occupies his thoughts, but does not pass any judgements. In
the Khun Khiu, which embraces the history of the former kings, the sage
indicates his judgements, but does not argue (in vindication of them). Thus
it is that he separates his characters from one another without appearing to
do so, and argues without the form of argument. How does he do so? The sage
cherishes his views in his own breast, while men generally state theirs
argumentatively, to show them to others. Hence we have the saying,
'Disputation is a proof of not seeing clearly.'
The Great Tao does not admit of being
praised. The Great Argument does not require words. Great Benevolence is not
(officiously) benevolent. Great Disinterestedness does not vaunt its
humility. Great Courage is not seen in stubborn bravery.
The Tao that is displayed is not the Tao.
Words that are argumentative do not reach the point. Benevolence that is
constantly exercised does not accomplish its object. Disinterestedness that
vaunts its purity is not genuine. Courage that is most stubborn is
ineffectual. These five seem to be round (and complete), but they tend to
become square (and immovable). Therefore the knowledge that stops at what it
does not know is the greatest. Who knows the argument that needs no words,
and the Way that is not to be trodden?
He who is able to know this has what is
called 'The Heavenly Treasure- house.'
He may pour into it without its being
filled; he may pour from it without its being exhausted; and all the while
he does not know whence (the supply) comes. This is what is called 'The
Store of Light.'
Therefore of old Yao asked Shun, saying,
'I wish to smite (the rulers of) Zung, Kwei,
and Hsü-âo. Even when standing in my court, I cannot get them out of my
mind. How is it so?'
Shun replied,
'Those three rulers live (in their little
states) as if they were among the mugwort and other brushwood; —how is it
that you cannot get them out of your mind? Formerly, ten suns came out
together, and all things were illuminated by them; —how much should (your)
virtue exceed (all) suns!'
8:
Nieh Khüeh asked Wang Î, saying,
'Do you know, Sir, what all creatures agree
in approving and affirming?'
'How should I know it?' was the reply.
'Do you know what it is that you do not
know?' asked the other again, and he got the same reply. He asked a third
time,—'Then are all creatures thus without knowledge?' and Wang Î answered
as before, (adding however),
'Notwithstanding, I will try and explain my
meaning. How do you know that when I say "I know it," I really (am showing
that) I do not know it, and that when I say "I do not know it," I really am
showing that I do know it.'
And let me ask you some questions:—'If a
man sleep in a damp place, he will have a pain in his loins, and half his
body will be as if it were dead; but will it be so with an eel? If he be
living in a tree, he will be frightened and all in a tremble; but will it be
so with a monkey? And does any one of the three know his right place? Men
eat animals that have been fed on grain and grass; deer feed on the thickset
grass; centipedes enjoy small snakes; owls and crows delight in mice; but
does any one of the four know the right taste? The dog-headed monkey finds
its mate in the female gibbon; the elk and the axis deer cohabit; and the
eel enjoys itself with other fishes. Mâo Zhiang and Li Ki were accounted by
men to be most beautiful, but when fishes saw them, they dived deep in the
water from them; when birds, they flew from them aloft; and when deer saw
them, they separated and fled away. But did any of these four know which in
the world is the right female attraction? As I look at the matter, the first
principles of benevolence and righteousness and the paths of approval and
disapproval are inextricably mixed and confused together:—how is it possible
that I should know how to discriminate among them?'
Nieh Khüeh said (further), 'Since you, Sir,
do not know what is advantageous and what is hurtful, is the Perfect man
also in the same way without the knowledge of them?'
Wang i replied,
'The Perfect man is spirit-like. Great
lakes might be boiling about him, and he would not feel their heat; the Ho
and the Han might be frozen up, and he would not feel the cold; the hurrying
thunderbolts might split the mountains, and the wind shake the ocean,
without being able to make him afraid. Being such, he mounts on the clouds
of the air, rides on the sun and moon, and rambles at ease beyond the four
seas. Neither death nor life makes any change in him, and how much less
should the considerations of advantage and injury do so!'
9:
Master Khü Zhiâo asked Master Khang-wu, saying,
'I heard the Master (speaking of such
language as the following):—"The sagely man does not occupy himself with
worldly affairs. He does not put himself in the way of what is profitable,
nor try to avoid what is hurtful; he has no pleasure in seeking (for
anything from any one); he does not care to be found in (any established)
Way; he speaks without speaking; he does not speak when he speaks; thus
finding his enjoyment outside the dust and dirt (of the world)." The Master
considered all this to be a shoreless flow of mere words, and I consider it
to describe the course of the Mysterious Way.—What do you, Sir, think of
it?'
Khang-wu dze replied,
'The hearing of such words would have
perplexed even Hwang-Ti, and how should Khiu be competent to understand
them? And you, moreover, are too hasty in forming your estimate (of their
meaning). You see the egg, and (at once) look out for the cock (that is to
be hatched from it); you see the bow, and (at once) look out for the dove
(that is to be brought down by it) being roasted. I will try to explain the
thing to you in a rough way; do you in the same way listen to me.
'How could any one stand by the side of the
sun and moon, and hold under his arm all space and all time? (Such language
only means that the sagely man) keeps his mouth shut, and puts aside
questions that are uncertain and dark; making his inferior capacities unite
with him in honouring (the One Lord). Men in general bustle about and toil;
the sagely man seems stupid and to know nothing. He blends ten thousand
years together in the one (conception of time); the myriad things all pursue
their spontaneous course, and they are all before him as doing so.
'How do I know that the love of life is not
a delusion? and that the dislike of death is not like a young person's
losing his way, and not knowing that he is (really) going home? Li Ki was a
daughter of the border Warden of Ai. When (the ruler of) the state of Zin
first got possession of her, she wept till the tears wetted all the front of
her dress. But when she came to the place of the king, shared with him his
luxurious couch, and ate his grain-and-grass-fed meat, then she regretted
that she had wept. How do I know that the dead do not repent of their former
craving for life?
'Those who dream of (the pleasures of)
drinking may in the morning wail and weep; those who dream of wailing and
weeping may in the morning be going out to hunt. When they were dreaming
they did not know it was a dream; in their dream they may even have tried to
interpret it; but when they awoke they knew that it was a dream. And there
is the great awaking, after which we shall know that this life was a great
dream. All the while, the stupid think they are awake, and with nice
discrimination insist on their knowledge; now playing the part of rulers,
and now of grooms. Bigoted was that Khiu ! He and you are both dreaming. I
who say that you are dreaming am dreaming myself. These words seem very
strange; but if after ten thousand ages we once meet with a great sage who
knows how to explain them, it will be as if we met him (unexpectedly) some
morning or evening.
10:
'Since you made me enter into this discussion with you, if you have got
the better of me and not I of you, are you indeed right, and I indeed wrong?
If I have got the better of you and not you of me, am I indeed right and you
indeed wrong? Is the one of us right and the other wrong? are we both right
or both wrong? Since we cannot come to a mutual and common understanding,
men will certainly continue in darkness on the subject.
'Whom shall I employ to adjudicate in the
matter? If I employ one who agrees with you, how can he, agreeing with you,
do so correctly? And the same may be said, if I employ one who agrees with
me. It will be the same if I employ one who differs from us both or one who
agrees with us both. In this way I and you and those others would all not be
able to come to a mutual understanding; and shall we then wait for that
(great sage)? (We need not do so.) To wait on others to learn how
conflicting opinions are changed is simply like not so waiting at all. The
harmonising of them is to be found in the invisible operation of Heaven, and
by following this on into the unlimited past. It is by this method that we
can complete our years (without our minds being disturbed).
'What is meant by harmonising (conflicting
opinions) in the invisible operation of Heaven? There is the affirmation and
the denial of it; and there is the assertion of an opinion and the rejection
of it. If the affirmation be according to the reality of the fact, it is
certainly different from the denial of it:—there can be no dispute about
that. If the assertion of an opinion be correct, it is certainly different
from its rejection:—neither can there be any dispute about that. Let us
forget the lapse of time; let us forget the conflict of opinions. Let us
make our appeal to the Infinite, and take up our position there.'
11:
The Penumbra asked the Shadow, saying,
'Formerly you were walking on, and now you
have stopped; formerly you were sitting, and now you have risen up:—how is
it that you are so without stability?'
The Shadow replied,
'I wait for the movements of something else
to do what I do, and that something else on which I wait waits further on
another to do as it does. My waiting,—is it for the scales of a snake, or
the wings of a cicada? How should I know why I do one thing, or do not do
another?
'Formerly, I, Chuang Chou [Kwang Kau],
dreamt that I was a butterfly, a butterfly flying about, feeling that it was
enjoying itself I did not know that it was Chou. Suddenly I awoke, and was
myself again, the veritable Chou. I did not know whether it had formerly
been Chou dreaming that he was a butterfly, or it was now a butterfly
dreaming that it was Chou. But between Chou and a butterfly there must be a
difference. This is a case of what is called the Transformation of Things.'
1:
There is a limit to our life, but to knowledge there is no limit. With
what is limited to pursue after what is unlimited is a perilous thing; and
when, knowing this, we still seek the increase of our knowledge, the peril
cannot be averted. There should not be the practice of what is good with any
thought of the fame (which it will bring), nor of what is evil with any
approximation to the punishment (which it will incur):—an accordance with
the Central Element (of our nature) is the regular way to preserve the body,
to maintain the life, to nourish our parents, and to complete our term of
years.
2:
His cook was cutting up an ox for the ruler Wän-hui. Whenever he applied
his hand, leaned forward with his shoulder, planted his foot, and employed
the pressure of his knee, in the audible ripping off of the skin, and
slicing operation of the knife, the sounds were all in regular cadence.
Movements and sounds proceeded as in the dance of 'the Mulberry Forest' and
the blended notes of 'the King Shâu.'
The ruler said,
'Ah! Admirable! That your art should have
become so perfect!'
(Having finished his operation), the cook
laid down his knife, and replied to the remark,
'What your servant loves is the method of
the Tao, something in advance of any art. When I first began to cut up an
ox, I saw nothing but the (entire) carcase. After three years I ceased to
see it as a whole. Now I deal with it in a spirit-like manner, and do not
look at it with my eyes. The use of my senses is discarded, and my spirit
acts as it wills. Observing the natural lines, (my knife) slips through the
great crevices and slides through the great cavities, taking advantage of
the facilities thus presented. My art avoids the membranous ligatures, and
much more the great bones.
'A good cook changes his knife every year;
—(it may have been injured) in cutting; an ordinary cook changes his every
month; —(it may have been) broken. Now my knife has been in use for nineteen
years; it has cut up several thousand oxen, and yet its edge is as sharp as
if it had newly come from the whetstone. There are the interstices of the
joints, and the edge of the knife has no (appreciable) thickness; when that
which is so thin enters where the interstice is, how easily it moves along!
The blade has more than room enough. Nevertheless, whenever I come to a
complicated joint, and see that there will be some difficulty, I proceed
anxiously and with caution, not allowing my eyes to wander from the place,
and moving my hand slowly. Then by a very slight movement of the knife, the
part is quickly separated, and drops like (a clod of) earth to the ground.
Then standing up with the knife in my hand, I look all round, and in a
leisurely manner, with an air of satisfaction, wipe it clean, and put it in
its sheath.'
The ruler Wän-hui said,
'Excellent! I have heard the words of my
cook, and learned from them the nourishment of (our) life.'
3:
When Kung-wän Hsien saw the Master of the Left, he was startled, and
said,
'What sort of man is this? How is it he has
but one foot? Is it from Heaven? or from Man?'
Then he added,
'It must be from Heaven, and not from Man.
Heaven's making of this man caused him to have but one foot. In the person
of man, each foot has its marrow. By this I know that his peculiarity is
from Heaven, and not from Man. A pheasant of the marshes has to take ten
steps to pick up a mouthful of food, and thirty steps to get a drink, but it
does not seek to be nourished in a coop. Though its spirit would (there)
enjoy a royal abundance, it does not think (such confinement) good.'
4:
When Lao Tan died, Khin Shih went to condole (with his son), but after
crying out three times, he came out. The disciples said to him, 'Were you
not a friend of the Master?'
'I was,' he replied, and they said,
'Is it proper then to offer your
condolences merely as you have done?'
He said,
'It is. At first I thought he was the man
of men, and now I do not think so. When I entered a little ago and expressed
my condolences, there were the old men wailing as if they had lost a son,
and the young men wailing as if they had lost their mother. In his
attracting and uniting them to himself in such a way there must have been
that which made them involuntarily express their words (of condolence), and
involuntarily wail, as they were doing. And this was a hiding from himself
of his Heaven (-nature), and an excessive indulgence of his (human)
feelings; —a forgetting of what he had received (in being born); what the
ancients called the punishment due to neglecting the Heaven (-nature). When
the Master came, it was at the proper time; when he went away, it was the
simple sequence (of his coming). Quiet acquiescence in what happens at its
proper time, and quietly submitting (to its ceasing) afford no occasion for
grief or for joy. The ancients described (death) as the loosening of the
cord on which God suspended (the life). What we can point to are the faggots
that have been consumed; but the fire is transmitted (elsewhere), and we
know not that it is over and ended.
1:
Yen Hui went to see Kung-ni, and asked leave to take his departure.
'Where are you going to?' asked the Master.
'I will go to Wei' was the reply.
'And with what object?'
'I have heard that the ruler of Wei is in
the vigour of his years, and consults none but himself as to his course. He
deals with his state as if it were a light matter, and has no perception of
his errors. He thinks lightly of his people's dying; the dead are lying all
over the country as if no smaller space could contain them; on the plains
and about the marshes, they are as thick as heaps of fuel. The people know
not where to turn to. I have heard you, Master, say, "Leave the state that
is well governed; go to the state where disorder prevails." At the door of a
physician there are many who are ill. I wish through what I have heard (from
you) to think out some methods (of dealing with Wei), if peradventure the
evils of the state may be cured.'
Kung-ni said,
'Alas! The risk is that you will go only to
suffer in the punishment (of yourself)! The right method (in such a case)
will not admit of any admixture. With such admixture, the one method will
become many methods. Their multiplication will embarrass you. That
embarrassment will make you anxious. However anxious you may be, you will
not save (yourself). The perfect men of old first had (what they wanted to
do) in themselves, and afterwards they found (the response to it) in others.
If what they wanted in themselves was not fixed, what leisure had they to go
and interfere with the proceedings of any tyrannous man?
'Moreover, do you know how virtue is liable
to be dissipated, and how wisdom proceeds to display itself? Virtue is
dissipated in (the pursuit of) the name for it, and wisdom seeks to display
itself in the striving with others. In the pursuit of the name men overthrow
one another; wisdom becomes a weapon of contention. Both these things are
instruments of evil, and should not be allowed to have free course in one's
conduct. Supposing one's virtue to be great and his sincerity firm, if he do
not comprehend the spirit of those (whom he wishes to influence); and
supposing he is free from the disposition to strive for reputation, if he do
not comprehend their, minds; - when in such a case he forcibly insists on
benevolence and righteousness, setting them forth in the strongest and most
direct language, before the tyrant, then he, hating (his reprover's)
possession of those excellences, will put him down as doing him injury. He
who injures others is sure to be injured by them in return. You indeed will
hardly escape being injured by the man (to whom you go)
'Further, if perchance he takes pleasure in
men of worth and hates those of an opposite character, what is the use of
your seeking to make yourself out to be different (from such men about him)?
Before you have begun to announce (your views), he, as king and ruler, will
take advantage of you, and at once contend with you for victory. Your eyes
will be dazed and full of perplexity; you will try to look pleased with him;
you will frame your words with care; your demeanour will be conformed to
his; you will confirm him in his views. In this way you will be adding fire
to fire, and water to water, increasing, as we may express it, the evils
(which you deplore). To these signs of deferring to him at the first there
will be no end. You will be in danger, seeing he does not believe you, of
making your words more strong, and you are sure to die at the hands of such
a tyrant.
'And formerly Kieh killed Kwan Lung-fäng,
and Kâu killed the prince Pi-kan. Both of these cultivated their persons,
bending down in sympathy with the lower people to comfort them suffering (as
they did) from their oppressors, and on their account opposing their
superiors. On this account, because they so ordered their conduct, their
rulers compassed their destruction:—such regard had they for their own fame.
(Again), Yao anciently attacked (the states of) Zhung-kih and Hsü-âo, and Yü
attacked the ruler of Hu. Those states were left empty, and with no one to
continue their population, the people being exterminated. They had engaged
in war without ceasing; their craving for whatever they could get was
insatiable. And this (ruler of Wei) is, like them, one who craves after fame
and greater substance; —have you not heard it? Those sages were not able to
overcome the thirst for fame and substance; —how much less will you be able
to do so! Nevertheless you must have some ground (for the course which you
wish to take); pray try and tell it to me.'
Yen Hui said,
'May I go, doing so in uprightness and
humility, using also every endeavour to be uniform (in my plans of
operation)?'
'No, indeed!' was the reply.
'How can you do so? This man makes a
display of being filled to overflowing (with virtue), and has great
self-conceit. His feelings are not to be determined from his countenance.
Ordinary men do not (venture to) oppose him, and he proceeds from the way in
which he affects them to seek still more the satisfaction of his own mind.
He may be described as unaffected by the (small lessons of) virtue brought
to bear on him from day to day; and how much less will he be so by your
great lessons? He will be obstinate, and refuse to be converted. He may
outwardly agree with you, but inwardly there will be no self- condemnation;
-how can you (go to him in this way and be successful)?'
(Yen Hui) rejoined,
'Well then; while inwardly maintaining my
straightforward intention, I will outwardly seem to bend to him. I will
deliver (my lessons), and substantiate them by appealing to antiquity.
Inwardly maintaining my straightforward intention, I shall be a co-worker
with Heaven. When I thus speak of being a co-worker with Heaven, it is
because I know that (the sovereign, whom we style) the son of Heaven, and
myself, are equally regarded by Heaven as Its sons. And should I then, as if
my words were only my own, be seeking to find whether men approved of them,
or disapproved of them? In this way men will pronounce me a (sincere and
simple) boy. This is what is called being a co-worker with Heaven.
'Outwardly bending (to the ruler), I shall
be a co-worker with other men. To carry (the memorandum tablet to court), to
kneel, and to bend the body reverentially:-these are the observances of
ministers. They all employ them, and should I presume not to do so? Doing
what other men do, they would have no occasion to blame me. This is what is
called being a fellow-worker with other men.
'Fully declaring my sentiments and
substantiating them by appealing to antiquity, I shall be a co-worker with
the ancients. Although the words in which I convey my lessons may really be
condemnatory (of the ruler), they will be those of antiquity, and not my
own. In this way, though straightforward, I shall be free from blame. This
is what is called being a co- worker with antiquity. May I go to Wei in this
way, and be successful?'
'No indeed!' said Kung-ni. 'How can you do
so? You have too many plans of proceeding, and have not spied out (the
ruler's character). Though you firmly adhere to your plans, you may be held
free from transgression, but this will be all the result. How can you (in
this way) produce the transformation (which you desire)? All this only shows
(in you) the mind of a teacher!'
2:
Yen Hui said,
'I can go no farther; I venture to ask the
method from you.'
Kung-ni replied,
'It is fasting, (as) I will tell you. (But)
when you have the method, will you find it easy to practise it? He who
thinks it easy will be disapproved of by the bright Heaven.'
Hui said,
'My family is poor. For months together we
have no spirituous drink, nor do we taste the proscribed food or any
strong-smelling vegetables; —can this be regarded as fasting?'
The reply was,
'It is the fasting appropriate to
sacrificing, but it is not the fasting of the mind.'
'I venture to ask what that fasting of the
mind is,' said Hui, and Kung-ni answered,
'Maintain a perfect unity in every movement
of your will. You will not wait for the hearing of your ears about it, but
for the hearing of your mind. You will not wait even for the hearing of your
mind, but for the hearing of the spirit. Let the hearing (of the ears) rest
with the ears. Let the mind rest in the verification (of the rightness of
what is in the will). But the spirit is free from all pre-occupation and so
waits for (the appearance of) things. Where the (proper) course is, there is
freedom from all pre-occupation; —such freedom is the fasting of the mind.'
Hui said,
'Before it was possible for me to employ
(this method), there I was, the Hui that I am; now, that I can employ it,
the Hui that I was has passed away. Can I be said to have obtained this
freedom from pre-occupation?'
The Master replied,
'Entirely. I tell you that you can enter
and be at ease in the enclosure (where he is), and not come into collision
with the reputation (which belongs to him). If he listen to your counsels,
let him hear your notes; if he will not listen, be silent. Open no (other)
door; employ no other medicine; dwell with him (as with a. friend) in the
same apartment, and as if you had no other option, and you will not be far
from success in your object. Not to move a step is easy; —to walk without
treading on the ground is difficult. In acting after the manner of men, it
is easy to fall into hypocrisy; in acting after the manner of Heaven, it is
difficult to play the hypocrite. I have heard of flying with wings; I have
not heard of flying without them. I have heard of the knowledge of the wise;
I have not heard of the knowledge of the unwise. Look at that aperture (left
in the wall); —the empty apartment is filled with light through it.
Felicitous influences rest (in the mind thus emblemed), as in their proper
resting place. Even when they do not so rest, we have what is called (the
body) seated and (the mind) galloping abroad. The information that comes
through the ears and eyes is comprehended internally, and the knowledge of
the mind becomes something external:—(when this is the case), the spiritual
intelligences will come, and take up their dwelling with us, and how much
more will other men do so! All things thus undergo a transforming influence.
This was the hinge on which Yü and Shun moved; it was this which Fu-hsi and
Ki-khü practised all their lives: how much more should other men follow the
same rule!'
3:
Tzu-kâo, duke of Sheh, being about to proceed on a mission to Khi, asked
Kung-ni, saying,
'The king is sending me, Ku-liang, on a
mission which is very important. Khi will probably treat me as his
commissioner with great respect, but it will not be in a hurry (to attend to
the business). Even an ordinary man cannot be readily moved (to action), and
how much less the prince of a state! I am very full of apprehension. You,
Sir, once said to me that of all things, great or small, there were few
which, if not conducted in the proper way, could be brought to a happy
conclusion; that, if the thing were not successful, there was sure to be the
evil of being dealt with after the manner of men; that, if it were
successful, there was sure to be the evil of constant anxiety; and that,
whether it succeeded or not, it was only the virtuous man who could secure
its not being followed by evil. In my diet I take what is coarse, and do not
seek delicacies,—a man whose cookery does not require him to be using
cooling, drinks. This morning I received my charge, and in the evening I am
drinking iced water; —am I not feeling the internal heat (and discomfort)?
Such is my state before I have actually engaged in the affair; —I am already
suffering from conflicting anxieties. And if the thing do not succeed, (the
king) is sure to deal with me after the manner of men. The evil is twofold;
as a minister, I am not able to bear the burden (of the mission). Can you,
Sir, tell me something (to help me in the case)?'
Kung-ni replied,
'In all things under heaven there are two
great cautionary considerations:—the one is the requirement implanted (in
the nature); the other is the conviction of what is right. The love of a son
for his parents is the implanted requirement, and can never be separated
from his heart; the service of his ruler by a minister is what is right, and
from its obligation there is no escaping anywhere between heaven and earth.
These are what are called the great cautionary considerations. Therefore a
son finds his rest in serving his parents without reference to or choice of
place; and this is the height of filial duty. In the same way a subject
finds his rest in serving his ruler, without reference to or choice of the
business; and this is the fullest discharge of loyalty. When men are simply
obeying (the dictates of) their hearts, the considerations of grief and joy
are not readily set before them. They know that there is no alternative to
their acting as they do, and rest in it as what is appointed; and this is
the highest achievement of virtue. He who is in the position of a minister
or of a son has indeed to do what he cannot but do. Occupied with the
details of the business (in hand), and forgetful of his own person, what
leisure has he to think of his pleasure in living or his dislike of death?
You, my master, may well proceed on your mission.
'But let me repeat to you what I have
heard:—In all intercourse (between states), if they are near to each other,
there should be mutual friendliness, verified by deeds; if they are far
apart, there must be sincere adherence to truth in their messages. Those
messages will be transmitted by internuncios. But to convey messages which
express the complacence or the dissatisfaction of the two parties is the
most difficult thing in the world. If they be those of mutual complacence,
there is sure to be an overflow of expressions of satisfaction; if of mutual
dissatisfaction, an overflow of expressions of dislike. But all extravagance
leads to reckless language, and such language fails to command belief. When
this distrust arises, woe to the internuncio! Hence the Rules for Speech I
say, "Transmit the message exactly as it stands; do not transmit it with any
overflow of language; so is (the internuncio) likely to keep himself whole."
4:
'Moreover, skilful wrestlers begin with open trials of strength, but
always end with masked attempts (to gain the victory); as their excitement
grows excessive, they display much wonderful dexterity. Parties drinking
according to the rules at first observe good order, but always end with
disorder; as their excitement grows excessive, their fun becomes uproarious.
In all things it is so. People are at first sincere, but always end with
becoming rude; at the commencement things are treated as trivial, but as the
end draws near, they assume great proportions. Words are (like) the waves
acted on by the wind; the real point of the matters (discussed by them) is
lost. The wind and waves are easily set in motion; the success of the matter
of which the real point is lost is easily put in peril. Hence quarrels are
occasioned by nothing so much as by artful words and one-sided speeches. The
breath comes angrily, as when a beast, driven to death, wildly bellows forth
its rage. On this animosities arise on both sides. Hasty examination (of the
case) eagerly proceeds, and revengeful thoughts arise in their minds; -they
do not know how. Since they do not know how such thoughts arise, who knows
how they will end? Hence the Rules for Speech say, "Let not an internuncius
depart from his instructions. Let him not urge on a settlement. If he go
beyond the regular rules, he will complicate matters. Departing from his
instructions and urging on a settlement imperils negotiations. A good
settlement is proved by its lasting long, and a bad settlement cannot be
altered; —ought he not to be careful? "
'Further still, let your mind find its
enjoyment in the circumstances of your position; nourish the central course
which you pursue, by a reference to your unavoidable obligations. This is
the highest object for you to pursue; what else can you do to fulfil the
charge (of your father and ruler). The best thing you can do is to be
prepared to sacrifice your life; and this is the most difficult thing to
do.'
5:
Yen Ho, being about to undertake the office of Teacher of the eldest son
of duke Ling of Wei, consulted Kü Po-yü.
'Here,' said he, 'is this (young) man,
whose natural disposition is as bad as it could be. If I allow him to
proceed in a bad way, it will be at the peril of our state; if I insist on
his proceeding in a right way, it will be at the peril of my own person. His
wisdom is just sufficient to know the errors of other men, but he does not
know how he errs himself What am I to do in such a case?'
Kü Po-yü replied,
'Good indeed is your question! Be on your
guard; be careful; see that you keep yourself correct! Your best plan will
be, with your person to seek association with him, and with your mind to try
to be in harmony with him; and yet there are dangers connected with both of
these things. While seeking to keep near to him, do not enter into his
pursuits; while cultivating a harmony of mind with him, do not show how
superior you are to him. If in your personal association you enter into his
pursuits, you will fall with him and be ruined, you will tumbledown with a
crash. If in maintaining a harmony with his mind, you show how different you
are from him, he will think you do so for the reputation and the name, and
regard you as a creature of evil omen. If you find him to be a mere boy, be
you with him as another boy; if you find him one of those who will not have
their ground marked out in the ordinary way, do you humour him in this
characteristic; if you find him to be free from lofty airs, show yourself to
be the same; (ever) leading him on so as to keep him free from faults.
'Don't you know (the fate of) the praying
mantis? It angrily stretches out its arms, to arrest the progress of the
carriage, unconscious of its inability for such a task, but showing how much
it thinks of its own powers. Be on your guard; be careful. If you cherish a
boastful confidence in your own excellence, and place yourself in collision
with him, you are likely to incur the fate (of the mantis).
'Don't you know how those who keep tigers
proceed? They do not dare to supply them with living creatures, because of
the rage which their killing of them will excite. They do not (even) dare to
give them their food whole, because of the rage which their rending of it
will excite. They watch till their hunger is appeased, (dealing with them)
from their knowledge of their natural ferocity. Tigers are different from
men, but they fawn on those who feed them, and do so in accordance with
their nature. When any of these are killed by them, it is because they have
gone against that nature.
'Those again who are fond of horses
preserve their dung in baskets, and their urine in jars. If musquitoes and
gadflies light on them, and the grooms brush them suddenly away, the horses
break their bits, injure (the ornaments on) their heads, and smash those on
their breasts. The more care that is taken of them, the more does their
fondness (for their attendants) disappear. Ought not caution to be exercised
(in the management of them)?'
6:
A (master) mechanic, called Shih, on his way to Khi, came to Khü- yü an,
where he saw an oak-tree, which was used as the altar for the spirits of the
land. It was so large that an ox standing behind it could not be seen. It
measured a hundred spans round, and rose up eighty cubits on the hill before
it threw out any branches, after which there were ten or so, from each of
which a boat could be hollowed out. People came to see it in crowds as in a
market place, but the mechanic did not look round at it, but held on his way
without stopping. One of his workmen, however, looked long and admiringly at
it, and then ran on to his master, and said to him,
'Since I followed you with my axe and bill,
I have never seen such a beautiful mass of timber as this. Why would you,
Sir, not look round at it, but went on without stopping?'
'Have done,' said Mr. Shih, 'and do not
speak about it. It is quite useless. A boat made from its wood would sink; a
coffin or shell would quickly rot; an article of furniture would soon go to
pieces; a door would be covered with the exuding sap; a pillar would be
riddled by insects; the material of it is good for nothing, and hence it is
that it has attained to so great an age.'
When Mr. Shih was returning, the altar-oak
appeared to him in a dream, and said,
'What other tree will you compare with me?
Will you compare me to one of your ornamental trees? There are hawthorns,
pear-trees, orange-trees, pummelo-trees, gourds and other low fruit-bearing
plants. When their fruits are ripe, they are knocked down from them, and
thrown among the dirt. The large branches are broken, and the smaller are
torn away. So it is that their productive ability makes their lives bitter
to them; they do not complete their natural term of existence, but come to a
premature end in the middle of their time, bringing on themselves the
destructive treatment which they ordinarily receive. It is so with all
things. I have sought to discover how it was that I was so useless; —I had
long done so, till (the effort) nearly caused my death; and now I have
learned it:—it has been of the greatest use to me. Suppose that I had
possessed useful properties, should I have become of the great size that I
am? And moreover you and I are both things; —how should one thing thus pass
its judgement on another? how is it that you a useless man know all this
about me a useless tree?'
When Mr. Shih awoke, he kept thinking about
his dream, but the workman said,
'Being so taken with its uselessness, how
is it that it yet acts here as the altar for the spirits of the land?'
'Be still,' was the master's reply, 'and do
not say a word. It simply happened to grow here; and thus those who do not
know it do not speak ill of it as an evil thing. If it were not used as the
altar, would it be in danger of being cut down? Moreover, the reason of its
being preserved is different from that of the preservation of things
generally; is not your explaining it from the sentiment which you have
expressed wide of the mark?'
7:
Nan-po, Master Ki, in rambling about the Heights of Shang, saw a large
and extraordinary tree. The teams of a thousand chariots might be sheltered
under it, and its shade would cover them all! Master Ki said,
'What a tree is this! It must contain an
extraordinary amount of timber! When he looked up, however, at its smaller
branches, they were so twisted and crooked that they could not be made into
rafters and beams; when he looked down to its root, its stem was divided
into so many rounded portions that neither coffin nor shell could be made
from them. He licked one of its leaves, and his mouth felt torn and wounded.
The smell of it would make a man frantic, as if intoxicated, for more than
three whole days together.
'This, indeed,' said he, 'is a tree good
for nothing, and it is thus that it has attained to such a size. Ah! and
spirit-like men acknowledge this worthlessness (and its result).'
In Sung there is the district of King-shih,
in which catalpae, cypresses, and mulberry trees grow well. Those of them
which are a span or two or rather more in circumference are cut down by
persons who want to make posts to which to tie their monkeys; those which
are three or four spans round are cut down by persons who want beams for
their lofty and famous houses; and those of seven or eight spans are cut
down by noblemen and rich merchants who want single planks for the sides of
their coffins. The trees in consequence do not complete their natural term
of life, and come to a premature end in the middle of their growth under the
axe and bill; —this is the evil that befalls them from their supplying good
timber.
In the same way the Kieh (book) specifies
oxen that have white foreheads, pigs that have turned-up snouts, and men
that are suffering from piles, and forbids their being sacrificed to the Ho.
The wizards know them by these peculiarities and consider them to be
inauspicious, but spirit-like men consider them on this account to be very
fortunate.
8:
There was the deformed object Shu. His chin seemed to hide his navel; his
shoulders were higher than the crown of his head; the knot of his hair
pointed to the sky; his five viscera were all compressed into the upper part
of his body, and his two thigh bones were like ribs. By sharpening needles
and washing clothes he was able to make a living. By sifting rice and
cleaning it, he was able to support ten individuals. When the government was
calling out soldiers, this poor Shu would bare his arms among the others;
when it had any great service to be undertaken, because of his constant
ailments, none of the work was assigned to him; when it was giving out grain
to the sick, he received three kung, and ten bundles of firewood. If this
poor man, so deformed in body, was still able to support himself, and
complete his term of life, how much more may they do so, whose deformity is
that of their faculties!
9:
When Confucius went to Ku, Khieh-yu, the madman of Ku, as he was
wandering about, passed by his door, and said,
'O Phoenix, O Phoenix, how is your virtue
degenerated! The future is not to be waited for; the past is not to be
sought again! When good order prevails in the world, the sage tries to
accomplish all his service; when disorder prevails, he may preserve his
life; at the present time, it is enough if he simply escape being punished.
Happiness is lighter than a feather, but no one knows how to support it;
calamity is heavier than the earth, and yet no one knows how to avoid it.
Give over! give over approaching men with the lessons of your virtue! You
are in peril! you are in peril, hurrying on where you have marked out the
ground against your advance! I avoid publicity, I avoid publicity, that my
path may not be injured. I pursue my course, now going backwards, now
crookedly, that my feet may not be hurt.
'The mountain by its trees weakens itself.
The grease which ministers to the fire fries itself The cinnamon tree can be
eaten, and therefore it is cut down. The varnish tree is useful, and
therefore incisions are made in it. All men know the advantage of being
useful, but no one knows the advantage of being useless.'
1:
In Lu there was a Wang Tai who had lost both his feet; while his
disciples who followed and went about with him were as numerous as those of
Kung- ni. Khang Ki asked Kung-ni about him, saying,
'Though Wang Tai is a cripple, the
disciples who follow him about divide Lu equally with you, Master. When he
stands, he does not teach them; when he sits, he does not discourse to them.
But they go to him empty, and come back full. Is there indeed such a thing
as instruction without words? and while the body is imperfect, may the mind
be complete? What sort of man is he?'
Kung-ni replied,
'This master is a sage. I have only been
too late in going to him. I will make him my teacher; and how much more
should those do so who are not equal to me! Why should only the state of Lu
follow him? I will lead on all under heaven with me to do so.'
Khang Ki rejoined,
'He is a man who has lost his feet, and yet
he is known as the venerable Wang; —he must be very different from ordinary
men. What is the peculiar way in which he employs his mind?'
The reply was,
'Death and life are great considerations,
but they could work no change in him. Though heaven and earth were to be
overturned and fall, they would occasion him no loss. His judgement is fixed
regarding that in which there is no element of falsehood; and, while other
things change, he changes not. The transformations of things are to him the
developments prescribed for them, and he keeps fast hold of the author of
them.'
Khang Ki said,
'What do you mean? When we look at things,'
said Kung-ni, 'as they differ, we see them to be different, (as for
instance) the liver and the gall, or Ku and Yüeh; when we look at them, as
they agree, we see them all to be a unity. So it is with this (Wang Thai).
He takes no knowledge of the things for which his ears and eyes are the
appropriate organs, but his mind delights itself in the harmony of (all
excellent) qualities. He looks at the unity which belongs to things, and
does not perceive where they have suffered loss. He looks on the loss of his
feet as only the loss of so much earth.'
Khang Ki said,
'He is entirely occupied with his (proper)
self. By his knowledge he has discovered (the nature of) his mind, and to
that he holds as what is unchangeable; but how is it that men make so much
of him?'
The reply was,
'Men do not look into running water as a
mirror, but into still water; —it is only the still water that can arrest
them all, and keep them (in the contemplation of their real selves). Of
things which are what they are by the influence of the earth, it is only the
pine and cypress which are the best instances; -in winter as in summer
brightly green. Of those which were what they were by the influence of
Heaven, the most correct examples were Yao and Shun; fortunate in (thus)
maintaining their own life correct, and so as to correct the lives of
others.
'As a verification of the (power of) the
original endowment, when it has been preserved, take the result of
fearlessness,-how the heroic spirit of a single brave soldier has been
thrown into an army of nine hosts. If a man only seeking for fame and able
in this way to secure it can produce such an effect, how much more (may we
look for a greater result) from one whose rule is over heaven and earth, and
holds all things in his treasury, who simply has his lodging in the six
members of his body, whom his ears and eyes serve but as conveying
emblematic images of things, who comprehends all his knowledge in a unity,
and whose mind never dies! If such a man were to choose a day on which he
would ascend far on high, men would (seek to) follow him there. But how
should he be willing to occupy himself with other men?'
2:
Shän-thu Ki a was (another) man who had lost his feet. Along with
dze-khân of Käng he studied under the master Po-hwän Wu- zän. Tzu-khân said
to him (one day),
'If I go out first, do you remain behind;
and if you go out first, I will remain behind.'
Next day they were again sitting together
on the same mat in the hall, when Tzu- khân spoke the same words to him,
adding,
'Now I am about to go out; will you stay
behind or not? Moreover, when you see one of official rank (like myself),
you do not try to get out of his way; - do you consider yourself equal to
one of official rank?'
Shän-thu Ki a replied,
'In our Master's school is there indeed
such recognition required of official rank? You are one, Sir, whose pleasure
is in your official rank, and would therefore take precedence of other men.
I have heard that when a mirror is bright, the dust does not rest on it;
when dust rests on it the mirror is not bright. When one dwells long with a
man of ability and virtue, he comes to be without error. There now is our
teacher whom you have chosen to make you greater than you are; and when you
still talk in this way, are you not in error?'
Tzu-khân rejoined,
'A (shattered) object as you are, you would
still strive to make yourself out as good as Yao! If I may form an estimate
of your virtue, might it not be sufficient to lead you to the examination of
yourself?'
The other said,
'Most criminals, in describing their
offences, would make it out that they ought not to have lost (their feet)
for them; few would describe them so as to make it appear that they should
not have preserved their feet. They are only the virtuous who know that such
a calamity was unavoidable, and therefore rest in it as what was appointed
for them. When men stand before (an archer like) Î with his bent bow, if
they are in the middle of his field, that is the place where they should be
hit; and if they be not hit, that also was appointed. There are many with
their feet entire who laugh at me because I have lost my feet, which makes
me feel vexed and angry. But when I go to our teacher, I throw off that
feeling, and return (to a better mood); —he has washed, without my knowing
it, the other from me by (his instructions in) what is good. I have attended
him now for nineteen years, and have not known that I am without my feet.
Now, you, Sir, and I have for the object of our study the (virtue) which is
internal, and not an adjunct of the body, and yet you are continually
directing your attention to my external body; —are you not wrong in this?'
Tzu-khân felt uneasy, altered his manner
and looks, and said,
'You need not, Sir, say anything more about
it.'
3:
In Lu there was a cripple, called Shu-shan the Toeless, who came on his
heels to see Kung-ni. Kung-ni said to him,
'By your want of circumspection in the
past, Sir, you have incurred such a calamity; — of what use is your coming
to me now?'
Toeless said,
'Through my ignorance of my proper business
and taking too little care of my body, I came to lose my feet. But now I am
come to you, still possessing what is more honourable than my feet, and
which therefore I am anxious to preserve entire. There is nothing which
Heaven does not cover, and nothing which Earth does not sustain; you,
Master, were regarded by me as doing the part of Heaven and Earth; —how
could I know that you would receive me in such a way?'
Confucius rejoined,
'I am but a poor creature. But why, my
master, do you not come inside, where I will try to tell you what I have
learned?'
When Toeless had gone out, Confucius said,
'Be stimulated to effort, my disciples.
This toeless cripple is still anxious to learn to make up for the evil of
his former conduct; —how much more should those be so whose conduct has been
unchallenged!'
Mr. Toeless, however, told Lao Tan (of the
interview), saying, 'Khung Khiu,
I apprehend, has not yet attained to be a
Perfect man. What has he to do with keeping a crowd of disciples around him?
He is seeking to have the reputation of being an extraordinary and
marvellous man, and does not know that the Perfect man considers this to be
as handcuffs and fetters to him.'
Lao Tan said,
'Why did you not simply lead him to see the
unity of life and death, and that the admissible and inadmissible belong to
one category, so freeing him from his fetters? Would this be possible?'
Toeless said,
'It is the punishment inflicted on him by
Heaven. How can he be freed from it?'
4:
Duke Âi of Lu asked Kung-ni, saying,
'There was an ugly man in Wei, called
Âi-thâi Tho. His father-in-law, who lived with him, thought so much of him
that he could not be away from him. His wife, when she saw him (ugly as he
was), represented to her parents, saying,
"I had more than ten times rather be his
concubine than the wife of any other man.'
He was never heard to take the lead in
discussion, but always seemed to be of the same opinion with others. He had
not the position of a ruler, so as to be able to save men from death. He had
no revenues, so as to be able to satisfy men's craving for food. He was ugly
enough, moreover, to scare the whole world. He agreed with men instead of
trying to lead them to adopt his views; his knowledge did not go beyond his
immediate neighbourhood. And yet his father-in-law and his wife were of one
mind about him in his presence (as I have said); —he must have been
different from other men. I called him, and saw him. Certainly he was ugly
enough to scare the whole world. He had not lived with me, however. for many
months, when I was drawn to the man; and before he had been with me a full
year, I had confidence in him. The state being without a chief minister, I
(was minded) to commit the government to him. He responded to my proposal
sorrowfully, and looked undecided as if he would fain have declined it. I
was ashamed of myself (as inferior to him), but finally gave the government
into his hands. In a little time, however, he left me and went away. I was
sorry and felt that I had sustained a loss, and as if there were no other to
share the pleasures of the kingdom with me. What sort of man was he?'
Kung-ni said,
'Once when I was sent on a mission to Ku, I
saw some pigs sucking at their dead mother. After a little they looked with
rapid glances, when they all left her, and ran away. They felt that she did
not see them, and that she was no longer like themselves. What they had
loved in their mother was not her bodily figure, but what had given
animation to her figure. When a man dies in battle, they do not at his
interment employ the usual appendages of plumes: as to supplying shoes to
one who has lost his feet, there is no reason why he should care for them;
—in neither case is there the proper reason for their use.
The members of the royal harem do not pare
their nails nor pierce their ears; when a man is newly married, he remains
(for a time) absent from his official duties, and unoccupied with them. That
their bodies might be perfect was sufficient to make them thus dealt with; —
how much greater results should be expected from men whose mental gifts are
perfect!
This Âi-thâi Tho was believed by men,
though he did not speak a word, and was loved by them, though he did no
special service for them. He made men appoint him to the government of their
states, afraid only that he would not accept the appointment. He must have
been a man whose powers were perfect, though his realisation of them was not
manifested in his person.'
Duke Âi said,
'What is meant by saying that his powers
were complete?'
Kung-ni replied,
'Death and life, preservation and ruin,
failure and success, poverty and wealth, superiority and inferiority, blame
and praise, hunger and thirst, cold and heat; —these are the changes of
circumstances, the operation of our appointed lot. Day and night they
succeed to one another before us, but there is no wisdom able to discover to
what they owe their origination. They are not sufficient therefore to
disturb the harmony (of the nature), and are not allowed to enter into the
treasury of intelligence. To cause this harmony and satisfaction ever to be
diffused, while the feeling of pleasure is not lost from the mind; to allow
no break to arise in this state day or night, so that it is always
spring-time in his relations with external things; in all his experiences to
realise in his mind what is appropriate to each season (of the year):—these
are the characteristics of him whose powers are perfect.'
'And what do you mean by the realisation of
these powers not being manifested in the person?' (pursued further the
duke).
The reply was,
'There is nothing so level as the surface
of a pool of still water. It may serve as an example of what I mean. All
within its circuit is preserved (in peace), and there comes to it no
agitation from without. The virtuous efficacy is the perfect cultivation of
the harmony (of the nature). Though the realisation of this be not
manifested in the person, things cannot separate themselves (from its
influence).'
Some days afterwards duke Âi told this
conversation to Master Min, saying,
'Formerly it seemed to me the work of the
sovereign to stand in court with his face to the south, to rule the kingdom,
and to pay good heed to the accounts of the people concerned, lest any
should come to a (miserable) death; —this I considered to be the sum (of his
duty). Now that I have heard that description of the Perfect man, I fear
that my idea is not the real one, and that, by employing myself too lightly,
I may cause the ruin of my state. I and Khung Khiu are not on the footing of
ruler and subject, but on that of a virtuous friendship.'
5:
A person who had no lips, whose legs were bent so that he could only walk
on his toes, and who was (otherwise) deformed, addressed his counsels to
duke Ling of Wei, who was so pleased with him, that he looked on a perfectly
formed man as having a lean and small neck in comparison with him. Another
who had a large goitre like an earthenware jar addressed his counsels to
duke Hwan of Khi, who was so pleased with him that he looked on a perfectly
formed man as having a neck lean and small in comparison with him. So it is
that when one's virtue is extraordinary, (any deficiency in) his bodily form
may be forgotten. When men do not forget what is (easily) forgotten, and
forget what is not (easily) forgotten, we have a case of real oblivion.
Therefore the sagely man has that in which his mind finds its enjoyment, and
(looks on) wisdom as (but) the shoots from an old stump; agreements with
others are to him but so much glue; kindnesses are (but the arts of)
intercourse; and great skill is (but as) merchants' wares. The sagely man
lays no plans; —of what use would wisdom be to him? He has no cutting and
hacking to do; —of what use would glue be to him? He has lost nothing; of
what use would arts of intercourse be to him? He has no goods to dispose of;
— what need has he to play the merchant? (The want of) these four things are
the nourishment of (his) Heavenly (nature); that nourishment is its Heavenly
food. Since he receives this food from Heaven, what need has he for anything
of man's (devising)? He has the bodily form of man, but not the passions and
desires of (other) men. He has the form of man, and therefore he is a man.
Being without the passions and desires of men, their approvings and
disapprovings are not to be found in him. How insignificant and small is
(the body) by which he belongs to humanity! How grand and great is he in the
unique perfection of his Heavenly (nature)!
Master Hui said to Master Chuang,
'Can a man indeed be without desires and
passions?'
The reply was,
'He can.'
'But on what grounds do you call him a man,
who is thus without passions and desires?'
Master Chuang said,
'The Tao gives him his personal appearance
(and powers); Heaven gives him his bodily form; how should we not call him a
man?'
Master Hui rejoined,
'Since you call him a man, how can he be
without passions and desires?'
The reply was,
'You are misunderstanding what I mean by
passions and desires. What I mean when I say that he is without these is,
that this man does not by his likings and dislikings do any inward harm to
his body; —he always pursues his course without effort, and does not (try
to) increase his (store of) life.'
Master Hui rejoined,
'If there were not that increasing of (the
amount) of life, how would he get his body'?'
Master Chuang said,
'The Tao gives him his personal appearance
(and powers); Heaven gives him his bodily form; and he does not by his
likings and dislikings do any internal harm to his body. But now you, Sir,
deal with your spirit as if it were something external to you, and subject
your vital powers to toil. You sing (your ditties), leaning against a tree;
you go to sleep, grasping the stump of a rotten dryandra tree. Heaven
selected for you the bodily form (of a man), and you babble about what is
strong and what is white.'
1:
He who knows the part which the Heavenly (in him) plays, and
knows(also)that which the Human (in him ought to) play, has reached the
perfection (of knowledge). He who knows the part which the Heavenly plays
(knows) that it is naturally born with him; he who knows the part which the
Human ought to play (proceeds) with the knowledge which he possesses to
nourish it in the direction of what he does not (yet) know:—to complete
one's natural term of years and not come to an untimely end in the middle of
his course is the fulness of knowledge. Although it be so, there is an evil
(attending this condition). Such knowledge still awaits the confirmation of
it as correct; it does so because it is not yet determined. How do we know
that what we call the Heavenly (in us) is not the Human? and that what we
call the Human is not the Heavenly? There must be the True man, and then
there is the True knowledge.
2:
Here we meet with the True Man, a Master of the Tao. He is the same as
the Perfect Man, the Spirit-like Man, and the Sagely Man. - James Legge.
What is meant by 'the True Man?'
The True men of old did not reject (the
views of) the few; they did not seek to accomplish (their ends) like heroes
(before others); they did not lay plans to attain those ends. Being such,
though they might make mistakes, they had no occasion for repentance; though
they might succeed, they had no self-complacency. Being such, they could
ascend the loftiest heights without fear; they could pass through water
without being made wet by it; they could go into fire without being burnt;
so it was that by their knowledge they ascended to and reached the Tao.
The True men of old did not dream when they
slept, had no anxiety when they awoke, and did not care that their food
should be pleasant. Their breathing came deep and silently. The breathing of
the true man comes (even) from his heels, while men generally breathe (only)
from their throats. When men are defeated in argument, their words come from
their gullets as if they were vomiting. Where lusts and desires are deep,
the springs of the Heavenly are shallow.
The True men of old knew nothing of the
love of life or of the hatred of death. Entrance into life occasioned them
no joy; the exit from it awakened no resistance. Composedly they went and
came. They did not forget what their beginning had been, and they did not
inquire into what their end would be. They accepted (their life) and
rejoiced in it; they forgot (all fear of death), and returned (to their
state before life). Thus there was in them what is called the want of any
mind to resist the Tao, and of all attempts by means of the Human to assist
the Heavenly. Such were they who are called the True men.
3:
Being such, their minds were free from all thought; their demeanour was
still and unmoved; their foreheads beamed simplicity. Whatever coldness came
from them was like that of autumn; whatever warmth came from them was like
that of spring. Their joy and anger assimilated to what we see in the four
seasons. They did in regard to all things what was suitable, and no one
could know how far their action would go. Therefore the sagely man might, in
his conduct of war, destroy a state without losing the hearts of the people;
his benefits and favours might extend to a myriad generations without his
being a lover of men. Hence he who tries to share his joys with others is
not a sagely man; he who manifests affection is not benevolent; he who
observes times and seasons (to regulate his conduct) is not a man of wisdom;
he to whom profit and injury are not the same is not a superior man; he who
acts for the sake of the name of doing so, and loses his (proper) self is
not the (right) scholar; and he who throws away his person in a way which is
not the true (way) cannot command the service of others. Such men as Hu
Pu-kieh, Wu Kwang, Po-i, Shu-khi, the count of Ki, Hsü-yü, Ki Thâ, and
Shän-thu Ti, all did service for other men, and sought to secure for them
what they desired, not seeking their own pleasure.
4:
The True men of old presented the aspect of judging others aright, but
without being partisans; of feeling their own insufficiency, but being
without flattery or cringing. Their peculiarities were natural to them, but
they were not obstinately attached to them; their humility was evident, but
there was nothing of unreality or display about it. Their placidity and
satisfaction had the appearance of joy; their every movement seemed to be a
necessity to them. Their accumulated attractiveness drew men's looks to
them; their blandness fixed men's attachment to their virtue. They seemed to
accommodate themselves to the (manners of their age), but with a certain
severity; their haughty indifference was beyond its control. Unceasing
seemed their endeavours to keep (their mouths) shut; when they looked down,
they had forgotten what they wished to say.
They considered punishments to be the
substance (of government, and they never incurred it); ceremonies to be its
supporting wings (and they always observed them); wisdom (to indicate) the
time (for action, and they always selected it); and virtue to be accordance
(with others), and they were all-accordant. Considering punishments to be
the substance (of government), yet their generosity appeared in the (manner
of their) infliction of death. Considering ceremonies to be its supporting
wings, they pursued by means of them their course in the world. Considering
wisdom to indicate the time (for action), they felt it necessary to employ
it in (the direction of) affairs. Considering virtue to be accordance (with
others), they sought to ascend its height along with all who had feet (to
climb it). (Such were they), and yet men really thought that they did what
they did by earnest effort.
5:
In this way they were one and the same in all their likings and
dislikings. Where they liked, they were the same; where they did not like,
they were the same. In the former case where they liked, they were
fellow-workers with the Heavenly (in them); in the latter where they
disliked, they were coworkers with the Human in them. The one of these
elements (in their nature) did not overcome the other. Such were those who
are called the True men.
Death and life are ordained, just as we
have the constant succession of night and day; —in both cases from Heaven.
Men have no power to do anything in reference to them; —such is the
constitution of things. There are those who specially regard Heaven as their
father, and they still love It (distant as It is); —how much more should
they love That which stands out (Superior and Alone)! Some specially regard
their ruler as superior to themselves, and will give their bodies to die for
him; how much more should they do so for That which is their true (Ruler)!
When the springs are dried up, the fishes collect together on the land. Than
that they should moisten one another there by the damp about them, and keep
one another wet by their slime, it would be better for them to forget one
another in the rivers and lakes. And when men praise Yao and condemn Kieh,
it would be better to forget them both, and seek the renovation of the Tao.
6:
There is the great Mass (of nature); —I find the support of my body on
it; my life is spent in toil on it; my old age seeks ease on it; at death I
find rest in it; —what makes my life a good makes my death also a good. If
you hide away a boat in the ravine of a hill, and hide away the hill in a
lake, you will say that (the boat) is secure; but at midnight there shall
come a strong man and carry it off on his back, while you in the dark know
nothing about it. You may hide away anything, whether small or great, in the
most suitable place, and yet it shall disappear from it. But if you could
hide the world in the world, so that there was nowhere to which it could be
removed, this would be the grand reality of the ever-during Thing. When the
body of man comes from its special mould, there is even then occasion for
joy; but this body undergoes a myriad transformations, and does not at once
reach its perfection; —does it not thus afford occasion for joys
incalculable? Therefore the sagely man enjoys himself in that from which
there is no possibility of separation, and by which all things are
preserved. He considers early death or old age, his beginning and his
ending, all to be good, and in this other men imitate him; —how much more
will they do so in regard to That Itself on which all things depend, and
from which every transformation arises!
7:
This is the Tao; —there is in It emotion and sincerity, but It does
nothing and has no bodily form. It may be handed down (by the teacher), but
may not be received (by his scholars). It may be apprehended (by the mind),
but It cannot be seen. It has Its root and ground (of existence) in Itself.
Before there were heaven and earth, from of old, there It was, securely
existing. From It came the mysterious existences of spirits, from It the
mysterious existence of God. It produced heaven; It produced earth. It was
before the Tai- ki, and yet could not be considered high; It was below all
space, and yet could not be considered deep. It was produced before heaven
and earth, and yet could not be considered to have existed long; It was
older than the highest antiquity, and yet could not be considered old.
Shih-wei got It, and by It adjusted heaven
and earth. Fu-hsi got It, and by It penetrated to the mystery of the
maternity of the primary matter. The Wei-tâu [the Great Bear constellation]
got It, and from all antiquity has made no eccentric movement. The Sun and
Moon got It, and from all antiquity have not intermitted (their bright
shining). Khan- pei got It, and by It became lord of Kun-lun. Feng-i got It,
and by It enjoyed himself in the Great River. Kien Wu got It, and by It
dwelt on mount Tai. Hwang-Ti got It, and by It ascended the cloudy sky.
Kwan-hsü got It, and by It dwelt in the Dark Palace. Yü-khiang got It, and
by It was set on the North Pole. Hsi Wang-mu got It, and by It had her seat
in (the palace of) Shâo- kwang. No one knows Its beginning; no one knows Its
end. Master Peng got It, and lived on from the time of the lord of Yü to
that of the Five Chiefs. Fu Yüeh got It, and by It became chief minister to
Wu-ting, (who thus) in a trice became master of the kingdom. (After his
death), Fu Yüeh mounted to the eastern portion of the Milky Way, where,
riding on Sagittarius and Scorpio, he took his place among the stars.
8:
Nan-po Tzu-khwei, asked Nü Yü, saying,
'You are old, Sir, while your complexion is
like that of a child; —how is it so?'
The reply was,
'I have become acquainted with the Tao.'
The other said,
'Can I learn the Tao?'
Nü Yü said,
'No. How can you? You, Sir, are not the man
to do so. There was Pu-liang Î who had the abilities of a sagely man, but
not the Tao, while I had the Tao, but not the abilities. I wished, however,
to teach him, if, peradventure, he might become the sagely man indeed. If he
should not do so, it was easy (I thought) for one possessing the Tao of the
sagely man to communicate it to another possessing his abilities.
Accordingly, I proceeded to do so, but with
deliberation. After three days, he was able to banish from his mind all
worldly (matters). This accomplished, I continued my intercourse with him in
the same way; and in seven days he was able to banish from his mind all
thought of men and things. This accomplished, and my instructions continued,
after nine days, he was able to count his life as foreign to himself. This
accomplished, his mind was afterwards clear as the morning; and after this
he was able to see his own individuality. That individuality perceived, he
was able to banish all thought of Past or Present. Freed from this, he was
able to penetrate to (the truth that there is no difference between) life
and death; —(how) the destruction of life is not dying, and the
communication of other life is not living. (The Tao) is a thing which
accompanies all other things and meets them, which is present when they are
overthrown and when they obtain their completion. Its name is Tranquillity
amid all Disturbances, meaning that such Disturbances lead to Its
Perfection.'
'And how did you, being alone (without any
teacher), learn all this?'
'I learned it,' was the reply, 'from the
son of Fu-mo; he learned it from the grandson of Lo-sung; he learned it from
Shan-ming; he learned it from Nieh-hsü ; he, from Hsü-yi; he, from Wu-âo;
he, from Hsü an-ming; he, from Zhan-liâo; and he learned it from Î-shih.'
9:
Tzu-sze, Tzu-yü, Tzu-li, and Tzu-lâi, these four men, were talking
together, when some one said,
'Who can suppose the head to be made from
nothing, the spine from life, and the rump-bone from death? Who knows how
death and birth, living on and disappearing, compose the one body?—I would
be friends with him.'
The four men looked at one another and
laughed, but no one seized with his mind the drift of the questions. All,
however, were friends together.
Not long after Tzu-yü fell ill, and Tzu-sze
went to inquire for him.
'How great,' said (the sufferer), 'is the
Creator! That He should have made me the deformed object that I am!' He was
a crooked hunchback; his five viscera were squeezed into the upper part of
his body; his chin bent over his navel; his shoulder was higher than his
crown; on his crown was an ulcer pointing to the sky; his breath came and
went in gasps:—yet he was easy in his mind, and made no trouble of his
condition. He limped to a well, looked at himself in it, and said,
'Alas that the Creator should have made me
the deformed object that I am!' Tzu said,
'Do you dislike your condition?'
He replied,
'No, why should I dislike it? If He were to
transform my left arm into a cock, I should be watching with it the time of
the night; if He were to transform my right arm into a cross- bow, I should
then be looking for a hsiâo to (bring down and) roast; if He were to
transform my rump-bone into a wheel, and my spirit into a horse, I should
then be mounting it, and would not change it for another steed. Moreover,
when we have got (what we are to do), there is the time (of life) in which
to do it; when we lose that (at death), submission (is what is required).
When we rest in what the time requires, and manifest that submission,
neither joy nor sorrow can find entrance (to the mind). This would be what
the ancients called loosing the cord by which (the life) is suspended. But
one hung up cannot loose himself; —he is held fast by his bonds. And that
creatures cannot overcome Heaven (the inevitable) is a long-acknowledged
fact; -why should I hate my condition?'
10:
Before long Tzu-lâi fell ill, and lay gasping at the point of death,
while his wife and children stood around him wailing'. Tzu-li went to ask
for him, and said to them, 'Hush! Get out of the way! Do not disturb him as
he is passing through his change.'
Then, leaning against the door, he said (to
the dying man), 'Great indeed is the Creator! What will He now make you to
become? Where will He take you to? Will He make you the liver of a rat, or
the arm of an insect?
Tzu-lâi replied,
'Wherever a parent tells a son to go, east,
west, south, or north, he simply follows the command. The Yin and Yang are
more to a man than his parents are. If they are hastening my death, and I do
not quietly submit to them, I shall be obstinate and rebellious. There is
the great Mass (of nature); —I find the support of my body in it; my life is
spent in toil on it; my old age seeks ease on it; at death I find rest on
it:—what has made my life a good will make my death also a good.
'Here now is a great founder, casting his
metal. If the metal were to leap up (in the pot), and say, "I must be made
into a (sword like the) Mo-yeh," the great founder would be sure to regard
it as uncanny. So, again, when a form is being fashioned in the mould of the
womb, if it were to say, "I must become a man; I must become a man," the
Creator would be sure to regard it as uncanny. When we once understand that
heaven and earth are a great melting-pot, and the Creator a great founder,
where can we have to go to that shall not be right for us? We are born as
from a quiet sleep, and we die to a calm awaking.'
11:
Tzu-sang Hu, Mäng Tzu-fan, and Tzu Kin Kang, these three men, were
friends together. (One of them said),
'Who can associate together without any
(thought of) such association, or act together without any (evidence of)
such co-operation? Who can mount up into the sky and enjoy himself amidst
the mists, disporting beyond the utmost limits (of things), and forgetting
all others as if this were living, and would have no end?'
The three men looked at one another and
laughed, not perceiving the drift of the questions; and they continued to
associate together as friends.
Suddenly, after a time, Tzu-sang Hia died.
Before he was buried, Confucius heard of the event, and sent Tzu-kung to go
and see if he could render any assistance. One of the survivors had composed
a ditty, and the other was playing on his lute. Then they sang together in
unison,
'Ah! come, Sang Hu ah! come, Sang Hu!
Your being true you've got again,
While we, as men, still here remain
Ohone!'
Tzu-kung hastened forward to them, and said,
'I venture to ask whether it be according
to the rules to be singing thus in the presence of the corpse?'
The two men looked at each other, and
laughed, saying,
'What does this man know about the idea
that underlies (our) rules?'
Tzu-kung returned to Confucius, and
reported to him, saying,
'What sort of men are those? They had made
none of the usual preparations, and treated the body as a thing foreign to
them. They were singing in the presence of the corpse, and there was no
change in their countenances. I cannot describe them; —what sort of men are
they?'
Confucius replied,
'Those men occupy and enjoy themselves in
what is outside the (common) ways (of the world), while I occupy and enjoy
myself in what lies within those ways. There is no common ground for those
of such different ways; and when I sent you to condole with those men, I was
acting stupidly. They, moreover, make man to be the fellow of the Creator,
and seek their enjoyment in the formless condition of heaven and earth. They
consider life to be an appendage attached, an excrescence annexed to them,
and death to be a separation of the appendage and a dispersion of the
contents of the excrescence. With these views, how should they know wherein
death and life are to be found, or what is first and what is last? They
borrow different substances, and pretend that the common form of the body is
composed of them. They dismiss the thought of (its inward constituents like)
the liver and gall, and (its outward constituents), the ears and eyes. Again
and again they end and they begin, having no knowledge of first principles.
They occupy themselves ignorantly and vaguely with what (they say) lies
outside the dust and dirt (of the world), and seek their enjoyment in the
business of doing nothing. How should they confusedly address themselves to
the ceremonies practised by the common people, and exhibit themselves as
doing so to the ears and eyes of the multitude?'
Tzu-kung said,
'Yes, but why do you, Master, act according
to the (common) ways (of the world)?'
The reply was,
'I am in this under the condemning sentence
of Heaven. Nevertheless, I will share with you (what I have attained to).'
Tzu-kung rejoined,
'I venture to ask the method which you
pursue;' and Confucius said,
'Fishes breed and grow in the water; man
develops in the Tao. Growing in the water, the fishes cleave the pools, and
their nourishment is supplied to them. Developing in the Tao, men do
nothing, and the enjoyment of their life is secured. Hence it is said,
"Fishes forget one another in the rivers and lakes; men forget one another
in the arts of the Tao."'
Tzu-kung said,
'I venture to ask about the man who stands
aloof from others.'
The reply was,
'He stands aloof from other men, but he is
in accord with Heaven! Hence it is said, "The small man of Heaven is the
superior man among men; the superior man among men is the small man of
Heaven!"'
12:
Yen Hui asked Kung-ni, saying,
'When the mother of Mäng-sun Zhâi died, in
all his wailing for her he did not shed a tear; in the core of his heart he
felt no distress; during all the mourning rites, he exhibited no sorrow.
Without these three things, he (was considered to have) discharged his
mourning well; —is it that in the state of Lu one who has not the reality
may yet get the reputation of having it? I think the matter very strange.'
Kung-ni said,
'That Mäng-sun carried out (his views) to
the utmost. He was advanced in knowledge; but (in this case) it was not
possible for him to appear to be negligent (in his ceremonial observances),
but he succeeded in being really so to himself Mäng-sun does not know either
what purposes life serves, or what death serves; he does not know which
should be first sought, and which last. If he is to be transformed into
something else, he will simply await the transformation which he does not
yet know. This is all he does. And moreover, when one is about to undergo
his change, how does he know that it has not taken place? And when he is not
about to undergo his change, how does he know that it has taken place? Take
the case of me and you:—are we in a dream from which we have not begun to
awake?
'Moreover, Mäng-sun presented in his body
the appearance of being agitated, but in his mind he was conscious of no
loss. The death was to him like the issuing from one's dwelling at dawn, and
no (more terrible) reality. He was more awake than others were. When they
wailed, he also wailed, having in himself the reason why he did so. And we
all have our individuality which makes us what we are as compared together;
determine in any case correctly that individuality? Moreover you dream that
you are a bird, and seem to be soaring to the sky; or that you are a fish,
and seem to be diving in the deep. But you do not know whether we that are
now speaking are awake or in a dream. It is not the meeting with what is
pleasurable that produces the smile; it is not the smile suddenly produced
that produces the arrangement (of the person). When one rests in what has
been arranged, and puts away all thought of the transformation, he is in
unity with the mysterious Heaven.'
13:
Î-r Tzu having gone to see Hsü Yu, the latter said to him,
'What benefit have you received from Yao?'
The reply was,
'Yao says to me, "You must yourself labour
at benevolence and righteousness, and be able to tell clearly which is right
and which wrong (in conflicting statements)."'
Hsü Yu rejoined,
'Why then have you come to me? Since Yao
has put on you the brand of his benevolence and righteousness, and cut off
your nose with his right and wrong, how will you be able to wander in the
way of aimless enjoyment, of unregulated contemplation, and the
ever-changing forms (of dispute)?'
Î-r dze said,
'That may be; but I should like to skirt
along its hedges.'
'But,' said the other, 'it cannot be. Eyes
without pupils can see nothing of the beauty of the eyebrows, eyes, and
other features; the blind have nothing to do with the green, yellow, and
variegated colours of the sacrificial robes.'
Î-r dze rejoined,
'Yet, when Wu-kwang lost his beauty,
Kü-liang his strength, and Hwang- Ti his wisdom, they all (recovered them)
under the moulding (of your system); —how do you know that the Maker will
not obliterate the marks of my branding, and supply my dismemberment, so
that, again perfect in my form, I may follow you as my teacher?'
Hsu Yü said,
'Ah! that cannot yet be known. I will tell
you the rudiments. O my Master! O my Master! He gives to all things their
blended qualities, and does not count it any righteousness; His favours
reach to all generations, and He does not count it any benevolence; He is
more ancient than the highest antiquity, and does not count Himself old; He
overspreads heaven and supports the earth; He carves and fashions all bodily
forms, and does not consider it any act of skill; —this is He in whom I find
my enjoyment.'
14:
Yen Hui said, 'I am making progress.'
Kung-ni replied, 'What do you mean?'
'I have ceased to think of benevolence and
righteousness,' was the reply.
'Very well; but that is not enough.'
Another day, Hui again saw Kung-ni, and
said, 'I am making progress.'
'What do you mean?'
'I have lost all thought of ceremonies and
music.'
'Very well, but that is not enough.'
A third day, Hui again saw (the Master),
and said, 'I am making progress.'
'What do you mean?'
'I sit and forget everything.'
Kung-ni changed countenance, and said,
'What do you mean by saying that you sit and forget (everything)?'
Yen Hui replied,
'My connexion with the body and its parts
is dissolved; my perceptive organs are discarded. Thus leaving my material
form, and bidding farewell to my knowledge, I am become one with the Great
Pervader. This I call sitting and forgetting all things.'
Kung-ni said,
'One (with that Pervader), you are free
from all likings; so transformed, you are become impermanent. You have,
indeed, become superior to me! I must ask leave to follow in your steps.'
15:
Tzu-yü and Tzu-sang were friends. (Once), when it had rained continuously
for ten days, Tzu-yü said,
'I fear that Tzu-sang may be in distress.'
So he wrapped up some rice, and went to
give it to him to eat. When he came to Tzu- sang's door, there issued from
it sounds between singing and wailing; a lute was struck, and there came the
words,
'O Father! O Mother! O Heaven! O Men!'
The voice could not sustain itself, and the
line was hurriedly pronounced. Tzu- yü entered and said,
'Why are you singing, Sir, this line of
poetry in such a way?'
The other replied,
'I was thinking, and thinking in vain, how
it was that I was brought to such extremity. Would my parents have wished me
to be so poor? Heaven overspreads all without any partial feeling, and so
does Earth sustain all; —would Heaven and Earth make me so poor with any
unkindly feeling? I was trying to find out who had done it, and I could not
do so. But here I am in this extremity!—it is what was appointed for me!'
1:
Nieh Khüeh put four questions to Wang Î, not one of which did he know
(how to answer). On this Nieh Khüeh leaped up, and in great delight walked
away and informed Master Phu-i of it, who said to him,
'Do you (only) now know it? He of the line
of Yü was not equal to him of the line of Tai. He of Yü still kept in
himself (the idea of) benevolence by which to constrain (the submission of)
men; and he did win men, but he had not begun to proceed by what did not
belong to him as a man. He of the line of Tai would sleep tranquilly, and
awake in contented simplicity. He would consider himself now (merely) as a
horse, and now (merely) as an ox. His knowledge was real and untroubled by
doubts; and his virtue was very true:—he had not begun to proceed by what
belonged to him as a man.
2:
Kien Wu went to see the mad (recluse), Khieh-yü, who said to him,
'What did Zäh-kung Shih tell you?'
The reply was,
'He told me that when rulers gave forth
their regulations according to their own views and enacted righteous
measures, no one would venture not to obey them, and all would be
transformed.'
Khieh-yd said,
'That is but the hypocrisy of virtue. For
the right ordering of the world it would be like trying to wade through the
sea and dig through the Ho, or employing a musquito to carry a mountain on
its back. And when a sage is governing, does he govern men's outward
actions? He is (himself) correct, and so (his government) goes on; —this is
the simple and certain way by which he secures the success of his affairs.
Think of the bird which flies high, to avoid being hurt by the dart on the
string of the archer, and the little mouse which makes its hole deep under
Shän-khiu to avoid the danger of being smoked or dug out; -are (rulers) less
knowing than these two little creatures?'
3:
Thien Kän, rambling on the south of (mount) Yin, came to the
neighbourhood of the Liâo-water. Happening there to meet with the man whose
name is not known', he put a question to him, saying,
'I beg to ask what should be done in order
to (carry on) the government of the world.'
The nameless man said,
'Go away; you are a rude borderer. Why do
you put to me a question for which you are unprepared? I would simply play
the part of the Maker of (all) things. When wearied, I would mount on the
bird of the light and empty air, proceed beyond the six cardinal points, and
wander in the region of nonentity, to dwell in the wilderness of desert
space. What method have you, moreover, for the government of the world that
you (thus) agitate my mind?'
(Thien Kän), however, again asked the
question, and the nameless man said,
'Let your mind find its enjoyment in pure
simplicity; blend yourself with (the primary) ether in idle indifference;
allow all things to take their natural course; and admit no personal or
selfish consideration:—do this and the world will be governed.'
4:
Master Yang-kü, having an interview with Lao Tan, said to him, 'Here is a
man, alert and vigorous in responding to all matters, clearsighted and
widely intelligent, and an unwearied student of the Tao; —can he be compared
to one of the intelligent kings?'
The reply was,
'Such a man is to one of the intelligent
kings but as the bustling underling of a court who toils his body and
distresses his mind with his various contrivances. And moreover, it is the
beauty of the skins of the tiger and leopard which makes men hunt them; the
agility of the monkey, or (the sagacity of) the dog that catches the yak,
which make men lead them in strings; but can one similarly endowed be
compared to the intelligent kings?'
Yang dze-kü looked discomposed and said,
'I venture to ask you what the government
of the intelligent kings is.'
Lao Tan replied,
'In the governing of the intelligent kings,
their services overspread all under the sky, but they did not seem to
consider it as proceeding from themselves; their transforming influence
reached to all things, but the people did not refer it to them with hope. No
one could tell the name of their agency, but they made men and things be
joyful in themselves. Where they took their stand could not be fathomed, and
they found their enjoyment in (the realm of) nonentity.'
5:
In Käng there was a mysterious wizard called Ki-hsien. He knew all about
the deaths and births of men, their preservation and ruin, their misery and
happiness, and whether their lives would be long or short, foretelling the
year, the month, the decade and the day like a spirit. When the people of
Käng saw him, they all ran out of his way. Master Lieh went to see him, and
was fascinated by him. Returning, he told Master Hu of his interview, and
said,
'I considered your doctrine, my master, to
be perfect, but I have found another which is superior to it.'
Master Hu replied,
'I have communicated to you but the outward
letter of my doctrine, and have not communicated its reality and spirit; and
do you think that you are in possession of it? However many hens there be,
if there be not the cock among them, how should they lay (real) eggs? When
you confront the world with your doctrine, you are sure to show in your
countenance (all that is in your mind), and so enable (this) man to succeed
in interpreting your physiognomy. Try and come to me with him, that I may
show myself to him.'
'The hens' signify the letter of the doctrine; 'the cock,' its spirit;
'the eggs,' a real knowledge of it. - J. Legge
On the morrow, accordingly, Master Lieh came with the man and saw Master
Ha. When they went out, the wizard said,
'Alas! your master is a dead man. He will
not live; —not for ten days more! I saw something strange about him; —I saw
the ashes (of his life) all slaked with water!'
When Master Lieh reentered, he wept till
the front of his jacket was wet with his tears, and told Master Hu what the
man had said. Master Hu said,
'I showed myself to him with the forms of
(vegetation beneath) the earth. There were the sprouts indeed, but without
(any appearance of) growth or regularity:—he seemed to see me with the
springs of my (vital) power closed up. Try and come to me with him again.'
Next day, accordingly, Master Lieh brought
the man again and saw Master Hu. When they went out, the man said,
'It is a fortunate thing for your master
that he met with me. He will get better; he has all the signs of living! I
saw the balance (of the springs of life) that had been stopped (inclining in
his favour).'
Master Lieh went in, and reported these
words to his master, who said,
'I showed myself to him after the pattern
of the earth (beneath the) sky. Neither semblance nor reality entered (into
my exhibition), but the springs (of life) were issuing from beneath my feet;
—he seemed to see me with the springs of vigorous action in full play. Try
and come with him again.'
Next day Master Lieh came with the man
again, and again saw Master Hu with him. When they went out, the wizard
said,
'Your master is never the same. I cannot
understand his physiognomy. Let him try to steady himself, and I will again
view him.'
Master Lieh went in and reported this to
Master Hu, who said,
'This time I showed myself to him after the
pattern of the grand harmony (of the two elemental forces), with the
superiority inclining to neither. He seemed to see me with the springs of
(vital) power in equal balance. Where the water wheels about from (the
movements of) a dugong, there is an abyss; where it does so from the
arresting (of its course), there is an abyss; where it does so, and the
water keeps flowing on, there is an abyss. There are nine abysses with their
several names, and I have only exhibited three of them. Try and come with
him again.'
Next day they came, and they again saw
Master Hu. But before he had settled himself in his position, the wizard
lost himself and ran away.
'Pursue him,' said Master Hu, and Master
Lieh did so, but could not come up with him. He returned, and told Master Hu,
saying,
'There is an end of him; he is lost; I
could not find him.'
Master Hu rejoined,
'I was showing him myself after the pattern
of what was before I began to come from my author. I confronted him with
pure vacancy, and an easy indifference. He did not know what I meant to
represent. Now he thought it was the idea of exhausted strength, and now
that of an onward flow, and therefore he ran away.
After this, Master Lieh considered that he
had not yet begun to learn (his master's doctrine). He returned to his
house, and for three years did not go out. He did the cooking for his wife.
He fed the pigs as if he were feeding men. He took no part or interest in
occurring affairs. He put away the carving and sculpture about him, and
returned to pure simplicity. Like a clod of earth he stood there in his
bodily presence. Amid all distractions he was (silent) and shut up in
himself. And in this way he continued to the end of his life.
6:
Non-action (makes its exemplifier) the lord of all fame; non-action
(serves him as) the treasury of all plans; non-action (fits him for) the
burden of all offices; non-action (makes him) the lord of all wisdom. The
range of his action is inexhaustible, but there is nowhere any trace of his
presence. He fulfils all that he has received from Heaven, but he does not
see that he was the recipient of anything. A pure vacancy (of all purpose)
is what characterises him. When the perfect man employs his mind, it is a
mirror. It conducts nothing and anticipates nothing; it responds to (what is
before it), but does not retain it. Thus he is able to deal successfully
with all things, and injures none.
7:
The Ruler of the Southern Sea was Shu, the Ruler of the Northern Sea was
Hu, and the Ruler of the Centre was Chaos. Shu and Hu were continually
meeting in the land of Chaos, who treated them very well. They consulted
together how they might repay his kindness, and said,
'Men all have seven orifices for the
purpose of seeing, hearing, eating, and breathing, while this (poor) Ruler
alone has not one. Let us try and make them for him.'
Accordingly they dug one orifice in him
every day; and at the end of seven days Chaos died.
1:
A ligament uniting the big toe with the other toes and an extra finger
may be natural growths, but they are more than is good for use. Excrescences
on the person and hanging tumours are growths from the body, but they are
unnatural additions to it. There are many arts of benevolence and
righteousness, and the exercise of them is distributed among the five
viscera; but this is not the correct method according to the characteristics
of the Tao. Thus it is that the addition to the foot is but the attachment
to it of so much useless flesh, and the addition to the hand is but the
planting on it of a useless finger. (So it is that) the connecting (the
virtues) with the five viscera renders, by excess or restraint, the action
of benevolence and righteousness bad, and leads to many arts as in the
employment of (great) powers of hearing or of vision.
2:
Therefore an extraordinary power of vision leads to the confusion of the
five colours and an excessive use of ornament. (Its possessor), in the
resplendence of his green and yellow, white and black, black and green, will
not stop till he has become a Li Ku. An extraordinary power of hearing leads
to a confusion of the five notes, and an excessive use of the six musical
accords. (Its possessor), in bringing out the tones from the instruments of
metal, stone, silk, and bamboo, aided by the Hwang-kung and Tâ-lü (tubes),
will not stop till he has become a Shih Khwang. (So), excessive benevolence
eagerly brings out virtues and restrains its (proper) nature, that (its
possessor) may acquire a famous reputation, and cause all the organs and
drums in the world to celebrate an unattainable condition; and he will not
stop till he has become a Zäng (Shän) or a Shih (Zhiu). An extraordinary
faculty in debating leads to the piling up of arguments like a builder with
his bricks, or a net-maker with his string. (Its possessor) cunningly
contrives his sentences and enjoys himself in discussing what hardness is
and what whiteness is, where views agree and where they differ, and pressing
on, though weary, with short steps, with (a multitude of) useless words to
make good his opinion; nor will he stop till he has become a Yang (Ku) or Mo
(Ti). But in all these cases the parties, with their redundant and divergent
methods, do not proceed by that which is the correct path for all under the
sky. That which is the perfectly correct path is not to lose the real
character of the nature with which we are endowed. Hence the union (of
parts) should not be considered redundance, nor their divergence
superfluity; what is long should not be considered too long, nor what is
short too short. A duck's legs, for instance, are short, but if we try to
lengthen them, it occasions pain; and a crane's legs are long, but if we try
to cut off a portion of them, it produces grief. Where a part is by nature
long, we are not to amputate, or where it is by nature short, we are not to
lengthen it. There is no occasion to try to remove any trouble that it may
cause.
3:
The presumption is that benevolence and righteousness are not
constituents of humanity; for to how much anxiety does the exercise of them
give rise! Moreover when another toe is united to the great toe, to divide
the membrane makes you weep; and when there is an extra finger, to gnaw it
off makes you cry out. In the one case there is a member too many, and in
the other a member too few; but the anxiety and pain which they cause is the
same. The benevolent men of the present age look at the evils of the world,
as with eyes full of dust, and are filled with sorrow by them, while those
who are not benevolent, having violently altered the character of their
proper nature, greedily pursue after riches and honours. The presumption
therefore is that benevolence and righteousness are contrary to the nature
of man:-how full of trouble and contention has the world been ever since the
three dynasties began!
And moreover, in employing the hook and
line, the compass and square, to give things their correct form you must cut
away portions of what naturally belongs to them; in employing strings and
fastenings, glue and varnish to make things firm, you must violently
interfere with their qualities. The bendings and stoppings in ceremonies and
music, and the factitious expression in the countenance of benevolence and
righteousness, in order to comfort the minds of men:—these all show a
failure in observing the regular principles (of the human constitution). All
men are furnished with such regular principles; and according to them what
is bent is not made so by the hook, nor what is straight by the line, nor
what is round by the compass, nor what is square by the carpenter's square.
Nor is adhesion effected by the use of glue and varnish, nor are things
bound together by means of strings and bands. Thus it is that all in the
world are produced what they are by a certain guidance, while they do not
know how they are produced so; and they equally attain their several ends
while they do not know how it is that they do so. Anciently it was so, and
it is so now; and this constitution of things should not be made of none
effect. Why then should benevolence and righteousness be employed as
connecting (links), or as glue and varnish, strings and bands, and the
enjoyment arising from the Tao and its characteristics be attributed to
them?—it is a deception practised upon the world. Where the deception is
small, there will be a change in the direction (of the objects pursued);
where it is great, there will be a change of the nature itself. How do I
know that it is so? Since he of the line of Yü called in his benevolence and
righteousness to distort and vex the world, the world has not ceased to
hurry about to execute their commands; —has not this been by means of
benevolence and righteousness to change (men's views) of their nature?
4:
I will therefore try and discuss this matter. From the commencement of
the three dynasties downwards, nowhere has there been a man who has not
under (the influence of external) things altered (the course of) his nature.
Small men for the sake of gain have sacrificed their persons; scholars for
the sake of fame have done so; great officers, for the sake of their
families; and sagely men, for the sake of the kingdom. These several
classes, with different occupations, and different reputations, have agreed
in doing injury to their nature and sacrificing their persons. Take the case
of a male and female slave; —they have to feed the sheep together, but they
both lose their sheep. Ask the one what he was doing, and you will find that
he was holding his bamboo tablets and reading. Ask the other, and you will
find that she was amusing herself with some game. They were differently
occupied, but they equally lose their sheep. (So), Po-i died at the foot of
Shâu-yang to maintain his fame, and the robber Kih died on the top of Tung-ling
in his eagerness for gain. Their deaths were occasioned by different causes,
but they equally shortened their lives and did violence to their nature;
—why must we approve of Po-i, and condemn the robber Kih? In cases of such
sacrifice all over the world, when one makes it for the sake of benevolence
and righteousness, the common people style him 'a superior man,' but when
another does it for the sake of goods and riches, they style him 'a small
man.'
The action of sacrificing is the same, and
yet we have 'the superior man' and 'the small man!' In the matter of
destroying his life, and doing injury to his nature, the robber Kih simply
did the same as Po-i; -why must we make the distinction of 'superior man'
and 'small man' between them?
5:
Moreover, those who devote their nature to (the pursuit) of benevolence
and righteousness, though they should attain to be like Zäng (Shän) and Shih
(Zhiu), I do not pronounce to be good; those who devote it to (the study of)
the five flavours, though they attain to be like Shu-r, I do not
pronounce to be good; those who devote it to the (discrimination of the)
five notes, though they attain to be like Shih Khwang, I do not pronounce to
be quick of hearing; those who devote it to the (appreciation of the) five
colours, though they attain to be like Li Ku, I do not pronounce to be clear
of vision. When I pronounce men to be good, I am not speaking of their
benevolence and righteousness; —the goodness is simply (their possession of)
the qualities (of the Tao). When I pronounce them to be good, I am not
speaking of what are called benevolence and righteousness; but simply of
their allowing the nature with which they are endowed to have its free
course. When I pronounce men to be quick of hearing, I do not mean that they
hearken to anything else, but that they hearken to themselves; when I
pronounce them to be clear of vision, I do not mean that they look to
anything else, but that they look to themselves. Now those who do not see
themselves but see other things, who do not get possession of themselves but
get possession of other things, get possession of what belongs to others,
and not of what is their own; and they reach forth to what attracts others,
and not to that in themselves which should attract them. But thus reaching
forth to what attracts others and not to what should attract them in
themselves, be they like the robber Kih or like Po-i, they equally err in
the way of excess or of perversity. What I am ashamed of is erring in the
characteristics of the Tao, and therefore, in the higher sphere, I do not
dare to insist on the practice of benevolence and righteousness, and, in the
lower, I do not dare to allow myself either in the exercise of excess or
perversity.
1:
Horses can with their hoofs tread on the hoarfrost and snow, and with
their hair withstand the wind and cold; they feed on the grass and drink
water; they prance with their legs and leap:—this is the true nature of
horses. Though there were made for them grand towers and large dormitories,
they would prefer not to use them. But when Po-lâo (arose and) said,
'I know well how to manage horses, (men
proceeded) to singe and mark them, to clip their hair, to pare their hoofs,
to halter their heads, to bridle them and hobble them, and to confine them
in stables and corrals. (When subjected to this treatment), two or three in
every ten of them died. (Men proceeded further) to subject them to hunger
and thirst, to gallop them and race them, and to make them go together in
regular order. In front were the evils of the bit and ornamented
breast-bands, and behind were the terrors of the whip and switch. (When so
treated), more than half of them died.'
The (first) potter said,
'I know well how to deal with clay; and
(men proceeded) to mould it into circles as exact as if made by the compass,
and into squares as exact as if formed by the measuring square.'
The (first) carpenter said,
'I know well how to deal with wood; and
(men proceeded) to make it bent as if by the application of the hook, and
straight as if by the application of the plumb-line. But is it the nature of
clay and wood to require the application of the compass and square, of the
hook and line? And yet age after age men have praised Po-lâo, saying,
'He knew well how to manage horses,' and
also the (first) potter and carpenter, saying,
'They knew well how to deal with clay and
wood.'
This is just the error committed by the
governors of the world.'
2:
According to my idea, those who knew well to govern mankind would not act
so. The people had their regular and constant nature:—they wove and made
themselves clothes; they tilled the ground and got food. This was their
common faculty. They were all one in this, and did not form themselves into
separate classes; so were they constituted and left to their natural
tendencies. Therefore in the age of perfect virtue men walked along with
slow and grave step, and with their looks steadily directed forwards. At
that time, on the hills there were no foot-paths, nor excavated passages; on
the lakes there were no boats nor dams; all creatures lived in companies;
and the places of their settlement were made close to one another. Birds and
beasts multiplied to flocks and herds; the grass and trees grew luxuriant
and long. In this condition the birds and beasts might be led about without
feeling the constraint; the nest of the magpie might be climbed to, and
peeped into. Yes, in the age of perfect virtue, men lived in common with
birds and beasts, and were on terms of equality with all creatures, as
forming one family; —how could they know among themselves the distinctions
of superior men and small men? Equally without knowledge, they did not leave
(the path of) their natural virtue; equally free from desires, they were in
the state of pure simplicity. In that state of pure simplicity, the nature
of the people was what it ought to be. But when the sagely men appeared,
limping and wheeling about in (the exercise of) benevolence, pressing along
and standing on tiptoe in the doing of righteousness, then men universally
began to be perplexed. (Those sages also) went to excess in their
performances of music, and in their gesticulations in the practice of
ceremonies, and then men began to be separated from one another. If the raw
materials had not been cut and hacked, who could have made a sacrificial
vase from them? If the natural jade had not been broken and injured, who
could have made the handles for the libation-cups from it? If the attributes
of the Tao had not been disallowed, how should they have preferred
benevolence and righteousness? If the instincts of the nature had not been
departed from, how should ceremonies and music have come into use? If the
five colours had not been confused, how should the ornamental figures have
been formed? If the five notes had not been confused, how should they have
supplemented them by the musical accords? The cutting and hacking of the raw
materials to form vessels was the crime of the skilful workman; the injury
done to the characteristics of the Tao in order to the practice of
benevolence and righteousness was the error of the sagely men.
3:
Horses, when living in the open country, eat the grass, and drink water;
when pleased, they intertwine their necks and rub one another; when enraged,
they turn back to back and kick one another; —this is all that they know to
do. But if we put the yoke on their necks, with the moonlike frontlet
displayed on all their foreheads, then they know to look slily askance, to
curve their necks, to rush viciously, trying to get the bit out of their
mouths, and to filch the reins (from their driver); —this knowledge of the
horse and its ability thus to act the part of a thief is the crime of Po-lâo.
In the time of (the Ti) Ho-hsü, the people occupied their dwellings without
knowing what they were doing, and walked out without knowing where they were
going. They filled their mouths with food and were glad; they slapped their
stomachs to express their satisfaction. This was all the ability which they
possessed. But when the sagely men appeared, with their bendings and
stoppings in ceremonies and music to adjust the persons of all, and hanging
up their benevolence and righteousness to excite the endeavours of all to
reach them, in order to comfort their minds, then the people began to stump
and limp about in their love of knowledge, and strove with one another in
their pursuit of gain, so that there was no stopping them:—this was the
error of those sagely men.
1:
In taking precautions against thieves who cut open satchels, search bags,
and break open boxes, people are sure to cord and fasten them well, and to
employ strong bonds and clasps; and in this they are ordinarily said to show
their wisdom. When a great thief comes, however, he shoulders the box, lifts
up the satchel, carries off the bag, and runs away with them, afraid only
that the cords, bonds, and clasps may not be secure; and in this case what
was called the wisdom (of the owners) proves to be nothing but a collecting
of the things for the great thief. Let me try and set this matter forth. Do
not those who are vulgarly called wise prove to be collectors for the great
thieves? And do not those who are called sages prove to be but guardians in
the interest of the great thieves?
How do I know that the case is so?
Formerly, in the state of Khi, the neighbouring towns could see one another;
their cocks and dogs never ceased to answer the crowing and barking of other
cocks and dogs (between them). The nets were set (in the water and on the
land); and the ploughs and hoes were employed over more than a space of two
thousand li square. All within its four boundaries, the establishment of the
ancestral temples and of the altars of the land and grain, and the ordering
of the hamlets and houses, and of every corner in the districts, large,
medium, and small, were in all particulars according to the rules of the
sages. So it was; but yet one morning, Thien Master Keng killed the ruler of
Khi, and stole his state. And was it only the state that he stole? Along
with it he stole also the regulations of the sages and wise men (observed in
it). And so, though he got the name of being a thief and a robber, yet he
himself continued to live as securely as Yao and Shun had done. Small states
did not dare to find fault with him; great states did not dare to take him
off; for twelve generations (his descendants) have possessed the state of
Khi. Thus do we not have a case in which not only did (the party) steal the
state of Khi, but at the same time the regulations of its sages and wise
men, which thereby served to guard the person of him, thief and robber as he
was?
2:
Let me try to set forth this subject (still further). Have not there been
among those vulgarly styled the wisest, such as have collected (their
wealth) for the great chief? and among those styled the most sage such as
have guarded it for him? How do I know that it has been so? Formerly, Lung-fäng
was beheaded; Pi-kan had his heart torn out; Khang Hung was ripped open; and
Tzu-hsü was reduced to pulp (in the Kiang). Worthy as those four men were,
they did not escape such dreadful deaths. The followers of the robber Kih
asked him, saying,
'Has the robber also any method or
principle (in his proceedings)?'
He replied,
'What profession is there which has not its
principles? That the robber in his recklessness comes to the conclusion that
there are valuable deposits in an apartment shows his sageness; that he is
the first to enter it shows his bravery; that he is the last to quit it
shows his righteousness; that he knows whether (the robbery) may be
attempted or not shows his wisdom; and that he makes an equal division of
the plunder shows his benevolence. Without all these five qualities no one
in the world has ever attained to become a great robber.'
Looking at the subject in this way, we see
that good men do not arise without having the principles of the sages, and
that Kih could not have pursued his course without the same principles. But
the good men in the world are few, and those who are not good are many; —it
follows that the sages benefit the world in a few instances and injure it in
many. Hence it is that we have the sayings,
'When the lips are gone the teeth are
cold;'
'The poor wine of Lu gave occasion to the
siege of Han-tan;'
'When sages are born great robbers arise.'
When the stream is dried, the valley is
empty; when the mound is levelled, the deep pool (beside it) is filled up.
When the sages have died, the great robbers will not arise; the world would
be at peace, and there would be no more troubles. While the sagely men have
not died, great robbers will not cease to appear. The more right that is
attached to (the views of) the sagely men for the government of the world,
the more advantage will accrue to (such men as) the robber Kih. If we make
for men pecks and bushels to measure (their wares), even by means of those
pecks and bushels should we be teaching them to steal; if we make for them
weights and steelyards to weigh (their wares), even by means of those
weights and steelyards shall we be teaching them to steal. If we make for
them tallies and seals to secure their good faith, even by means of those
tallies and seals shall we be teaching them to steal. If we make for them
benevolence and righteousness to make their doings correct, even by means of
benevolence and righteousness shall we be teaching them to steal. How do I
know that it is so? Here is one who steals a hook (for his girdle); —he is
put to death for it: here is another who steals a state; —he becomes its
prince. But it is at the gates of the princes that we find benevolence and
righteousness (most strongly) professed; —is not this stealing benevolence
and righteousness, sageness and wisdom? Thus they hasten to become great
robbers, carry off princedoms, and steal benevolence and righteousness, with
all the gains springing from the use of pecks and bushels, weights and
steelyards, tallies and seals:—even the rewards of carriages and coronets
have no power to influence (to a different course), and the terrors of the
axe have no power to restrain in such cases. The giving of so great gain to
robbers (like) Kih, and making it impossible to restrain them; —this is the
error committed by the sages.
3:
In accordance with this it is said,
'Fish should not be taken from (the
protection of) the deep waters; the agencies for the profit of a state
should not be shown to men.'
But those sages (and their teachings) are
the agencies for the profit of the world, and should not be exhibited to it.
Therefore if an end were put to sageness and wisdom put away, the great
robbers would cease to arise. If jade were put away and pearls broken to
bits, the small thieves would not appear. If tallies were burned and seals
broken in pieces, the people would become simple and unsophisticated. If
pecks were destroyed and steelyards snapped in two, the people would have no
wrangling. If the rules of the sages were entirely set aside in the world, a
beginning might be made of reasoning with the people. If the six musical
accords were reduced to a state of utter confusion, organs and lutes all
burned, and the ears of the (musicians like the) blind Khwang stopped up,
all men would begin to possess and employ their (natural) power of hearing.
If elegant ornaments were abolished, the five embellishing colours disused,
and the eyes of (men like) Li Ku glued up, all men would begin to possess
and employ their (natural) power of vision. If the hook and line were
destroyed, the compass and square thrown away, and the fingers of men (like)
the artful Khui smashed, all men would begin to possess and employ their
(natural) skill; —as it is said,
'The greatest art is like stupidity.'
If conduct such as that of Zäng (Shän) and
Shih (Khiu) were discarded, the mouths of Yang (Ku) and Mo (Ti) gagged, and
benevolence and righteousness seized and thrown aside, the virtue of all men
would begin to display its mysterious excellence. When men possessed and
employed their (natural) power of vision, there would be no distortion in
the world. When they possessed and employed their (natural) power of
hearing, there would be no distractions in the world. When they possessed
and employed their (natural) faculty of knowledge, there would be no
delusions in the world. When they possessed and employed their (natural)
virtue, there would be no depravity in the world. Men like Zäng (Shän), Shih
(Khiu), Yang (Ku), Mo (Ti), Shih Khwang (the musician), the artist Khui, and
Li Ku, all display their qualities outwardly, and set the world in a blaze
(of admiration) and confound it; —a method which is of no use!
4:
Are you, Sir, unacquainted with the age of perfect virtue? Anciently
there were Yung-khäng, Tâ-thing, Po-hwang, Kang-yang, Li-lu, Li-khu,
Hsien-yü an, Ho-hsü, Zun-lu, Ku-yung, Fu-hsi, and Shän-näng. In their times
the people made knots on cords in carrying on their affairs. They thought
their (simple) food pleasant, and their (plain) clothing beautiful. They
were happy in their (simple) manners, and felt at rest in their (poor)
dwellings. (The people of) neighbouring states might be able to descry one
another; the voices of their cocks and dogs might be heard (all the way)
from one to the other; they might not die till they were old; and yet all
their life they would have no communication together. In those times perfect
good order prevailed.
Now-a-days, however, such is the state of
things that you shall see the people stretching out their necks, and
standing on tiptoe, while they say, 'In such and such a place there is a
wise and able man.'
Then they carry with them whatever dry
provisions they may have left, and hurry towards it, abandoning their
parents in their homes, and neglecting the service of their rulers abroad.
Their footsteps may be traced in lines from one state to another, and the
ruts of their chariot-wheels also for more than a thousand li. This is owing
to the error of their superiors in their (inordinate) fondness for
knowledge. When those superiors do really love knowledge, but do not follow
the (proper) course, the whole world is thrown into great confusion.
How do I know that the case is so? The
knowledge shown in the (making of) bows, cross-bows, hand-nets, stringed
arrows, and contrivances with springs is great, but the birds are troubled
by them above; the knowledge shown in the hooks, baits, various kinds of
nets, and bamboo traps is great, but the fishes are disturbed by them in the
waters; the knowledge shown in the arrangements for setting nets, and the
nets and snares themselves, is great, but the animals are disturbed by them
in the marshy grounds. (So), the versatility shown in artful deceptions
becoming more and more pernicious, in ingenious discussions as to what is
hard and what is white, and in attempts to disperse the dust and reconcile
different views, is great, but the common people are perplexed by all the
sophistry. Hence there is great disorder continually in the world, and the
guilt of it is due to that fondness for knowledge. Thus it is that all men
know to seek for the knowledge that they have not attained to; and do not
know to seek for that which they already have (in themselves); and that they
know to condemn what they do not approve (in others), and do not know to
condemn what they have allowed in themselves; —it is this which occasions
the great confusion and disorder. It is just as if, above, the brightness of
the sun and moon were darkened; as if, beneath, the productive vigour of the
hills and streams were dried up; and as if, between, the operation of the
four seasons were brought to an end:—in which case there would not be a
single weak and wriggling insect, nor any plant that grows up, which would
not lose its proper nature. Great indeed is the disorder produced in the
world by the love of knowledge. From the time of the three dynasties
downwards it has been so. The plain and honest-minded people are neglected,
and the plausible representations of restless spirits received with
pleasure; the quiet and unexciting method of non-action is put away, and
pleasure taken in ideas garrulously expressed. It is this garrulity of
speech which puts the world in disorder.
1:
I have heard of letting the world be, and exercising forbearance; I have
not heard of governing the world. Letting be is from the fear that men,
(when interfered with), will carry their nature beyond its normal condition;
exercising forbearance is from the fear that men, (when not so dealt with),
will alter the characteristics of their nature. When all men do not carry
their nature beyond its normal condition, nor alter its characteristics, the
good government of the world is secured.
Formerly, Yao's government of the world
made men look joyful; but when they have this joy in their nature, there is
a want of its (proper) placidity. The government of the world by Kieh, (on
the contrary), made men look distressed; but when their nature shows the
symptoms of distress, there is a want of its (proper) contentment. The want
of placidity and the want of contentment are contrary to the character (of
the nature); and where this obtains, it is impossible that any man or state
should anywhere abide long. Are men exceedingly joyful?—the Yang or element
of expansion in them is too much developed. Are they exceedingly
irritated?—the Yin or opposite element is too much developed. When those
elements thus predominate in men, (it is as if) the four seasons were not to
come (at their proper times), and the harmony of cold and heat were not to
be maintained; —would there not result injury to the bodies of men? Men's
joy and dissatisfaction are made to arise where they ought not to do so;
their movements are all uncertain; they lose the mastery of their thoughts;
they stop short midway, and do not finish what they have begun. In this
state of things the world begins to have lofty aims, and jealous dislikes,
ambitious courses, and fierce animosities, and then we have actions like
those of the robber Kih, or of Zäng (Shän) and Shih (Zhiu). If now the whole
world were taken to reward the good it would not suffice, nor would it be
possible with it to punish the bad. Thus the world, great as it is, not
sufficing for rewards and punishments, from the time of the three dynasties
downwards, there has been nothing but bustle and excitement. Always occupied
with rewards and punishments, what leisure have men had to rest in the
instincts of the nature with which they are endowed?
2:
Moreover, delight in the power of vision leads to excess in the pursuit
of (ornamental) colours; delight in the power of hearing, to excess in
seeking (the pleasures of) sound; delight in benevolence tends to disorder
that virtue (as proper to the nature); delight in righteousness sets the man
in opposition to what is right in reason; delight in (the practice of)
ceremonies is helpful to artful forms; delight in music leads to voluptuous
airs; delight in sageness is helpful to ingenious contrivances; delight in
knowledge contributes to fault-finding. If all men were to rest in the
instincts of their nature, to keep or to extinguish these eight delights
might be a matter of indifference; but if they will not rest in those
instincts, then those eight delights begin to be imperfectly and unevenly
developed or violently suppressed, and the world is thrown into disorder.
But when men begin to honour them, and to long for them, how great is the
deception practised on the world! And not only, when (a performance of them)
is once over, do they not have done with them, but they prepare themselves
(as) with fasting to describe them, they seem to kneel reverentially when
they bring them forward, and they go through them with the excitements of
music and singing; and then what can be done (to remedy the evil of them)?
Therefore the superior man, who feels himself constrained to engage in the
administration of the world will find it his best way to do nothing. In
(that policy of) doing nothing, he can rest in the instincts of the nature
with which he is endowed. Hence he who will administer (the government of)
the world honouring it as he honours his own person, may have that
government committed to him, and he who will administer it loving it as he
loves his own person, may have it entrusted to him. Therefore, if the
superior man will keep (the faculties lodged in) his five viscera
unemployed, and not display his powers of seeing and hearing, while he is
motionless as a representative of the dead, his dragon-like presence will be
seen; while he is profoundly silent, the thunder (of his words) will
resound, while his movements are (unseen) like those of a spirit, all
heavenly influences will follow them; while he is (thus) unconcerned and
does nothing, his genial influence will attract and gather all things round
him:—what leisure has he to do anything more for the government of the
world?
3:
Zhui Khü asked Lao Tan, saying,
'If you do not govern the world, how can
you make men's minds good?'
The reply was,
'Take care how you meddle with and disturb
men's minds. The mind, if pushed about, gets depressed; if helped forward,
it gets exalted. Now exalted, now depressed, here it appears as a prisoner,
and there as a wrathful fury. (At one time) it becomes pliable and soft,
yielding to what is hard and strong; (at another), it is sharp as the
sharpest corner, fit to carve or chisel (stone or jade). Now it is hot as a
scorching fire, and anon it is cold as ice. It is so swift that while one is
bending down and lifting up his head, it shall twice have put forth a
soothing hand beyond the four seas. Resting, it is still as a deep abyss;
moving, it is like one of the bodies in the sky; in its resolute
haughtiness, it refuses to be bound; -such is the mind of man!'
Anciently, Hwang-Ti was the first to meddle
with and disturb the mind of man with his benevolence and righteousness.
After him, Yao and Shun wore their thighs bare and the hair off the calves
of their legs, in their labours to nourish the bodies of the people. They
toiled painfully with all the powers in their five viscera at the practice
of their benevolence and righteousness; they tasked their blood and breath
to make out a code of laws; —and after all they were unsuccessful. On this
Yao sent away Hwan Tâu to Khung hill, and (the Chiefs of) the Three Miâo to
San-wei, and banished the Minister of Works to the Dark Capital; so unequal
had they been to cope with the world. Then we are carried on to the kings of
the Three (dynasties), when the world was in a state of great distraction.
Of the lowest type of character there were Kieh and Kih; of a higher type
there were Zäng (Shän) and Shih (Zhiu). At the same time there arose the
classes of the Literati and the Mohists. Hereupon, complacency in, and
hatred of, one another produced mutual suspicions; the stupid and the wise
imposed on one another; the good and the bad condemned one another; the
boastful and the sincere interchanged their recriminations; —and the world
fell into decay. Views as to what was greatly virtuous did not agree, and
the nature with its endowments became as if shrivelled by fire or carried
away by a flood. All were eager for knowledge, and the people were exhausted
with their searchings (after what was good). On this the axe and the saw
were brought into play; guilt was determined as by the plumb-line and death
inflicted; the hammer and gouge did their work. The world fell into great
disorder, and presented the appearance of a jagged mountain ridge. The crime
to which all was due was the meddling with and disturbing men's minds. The
effect was that men of ability and worth lay concealed at the foot of the
crags of mount Tai, and princes of ten thousand chariots were anxious and
terrified in their ancestral temples. In the present age those Who have been
put to death in various ways lie thick as if pillowed on each other; those
who are wearing the cangue press on each other (on the roads); those who are
suffering the bastinado can see each other (all over the land). And now the
Literati and the Mohists begin to stand, on tiptoe and with bare arms, among
the fettered and manacled crowd! Ah! extreme is their shamelessness, and
their failure to see the disgrace! Strange that we should be slow to
recognise their sageness and wisdom in the bars of the cangue, and their
benevolence and righteousness in the rivets of the fetters and handcuffs!
How do we know that Zäng and Shih are not the whizzing arrows of Kieh and
Kih? Therefore it is said,
'Abolish sageness and cast away knowledge,
and the world will be brought to a state of great order.'
4:
Hwang-Ti had been on the throne for nineteen years, and his ordinances
were in operation all through the kingdom, when he heard that Kwang Master
Keng was living on the summit of Khung-thung, and went to see him.
'I have heard,' he said, 'that you, Sir,
are well acquainted with the perfect Tao. I venture to ask you what is the
essential thing in it. I wish to take the subtlest influences of heaven and
earth, and assist with them the (growth of the) five cereals for the
(better) nourishment of the people. I also wish to direct the (operation of
the) Yin and Yang, so as to secure the comfort of all living beings. How
shall I proceed to accomplish those objects?'
Kwang Master Keng replied,
'What you wish to ask about is the original
substance of all things; what you wish to have the direction of is that
substance as it was shattered and divided. According to your government of
the world, the vapours of the clouds, before they were collected, would
descend in rain; the herbs and trees would shed their leaves before they
became yellow; and the light of the sun and moon would hasten to extinction.
Your mind is that of a flatterer with his plausible words; —it is not fit
that I should tell you the perfect Tao.'
Hwang-Ti withdrew, gave up (his government
of) the kingdom, built himself a solitary apartment, spread in it a mat of
the white mâo grass, dwelt in it unoccupied for three months, and then went
again to seek an interview with (the recluse). Kwang Master Keng was then
lying down with his head to the south. Hwang-Ti, with an air of deferential
submission, went forward on his knees, twice bowed low with his face to the
ground, and asked him, saying,
'I have heard that you, Sir, are well
acquainted with the perfect Tao; —I venture to ask how I should rule my
body, in order that it may continue for a long time.'
Kwang Master Keng hastily rose, and said,
'A good question! Come and I will tell you
the perfect Tao. Its essence is (surrounded with) the deepest obscurity; its
highest reach is in darkness and silence. There is nothing to be seen;
nothing to be heard. When it holds the spirit in its arms in stillness, then
the bodily form of itself will become correct. You must be still; you must
be pure; not subjecting your body to toil, not agitating your vital force;
—then you may live for long. When your eyes see nothing, your ears hear
nothing, and your mind knows nothing, your spirit will keep your body, and
the body will live long. Watch over what is within you, shut up the avenues
that connect you with what is external; —much knowledge is pernicious. I
(will) proceed with you to the summit of the Grand Brilliance, where we come
to the source of the bright and expanding (element); I will enter with you
the gate of the Deepest Obscurity, where we come to the source of the dark
and repressing (element). There heaven and earth have their controllers;
there the Yin and Yang have their Repositories. Watch over and keep your
body, and all things will of themselves give it vigour. I maintain the
(original) unity (of these elements), and dwell in the harmony of them. In
this way 1 have cultivated myself for one thousand and two hundred years,
and my bodily form has undergone no decay.'
Hwang-Ti twice bowed low with his head to
the ground, and said,
'In Kwang Master Keng we have an example of
what is called Heaven.'
The other said,
'Come, and I will tell you:—(The perfect
Tao) is something inexhaustible, and yet men all think it has an end; it is
something unfathomable, and yet men all think its extreme limit can be
reached. He who attains to my Tao, if he be in a high position, will be one
of the August ones, and in a low position, will be a king. He who fails in
attaining it, in his highest attainment will see the light, but will descend
and be of the Earth. At present all things are produced from the Earth and
return to the Earth. Therefore I will leave you, and enter the gate of the
Unending, to enjoy myself in the fields of the Illimitable. I will blend my
light with that of the sun and moon, and will endure while heaven and earth
endure. If men agree with my views, I will be unconscious of it; if they
keep far apart from them, I will be unconscious of it; they may all die, and
I will abide alone!'
5:
Yün Kiang, rambling to the east, having been borne along on a gentle
breeze, suddenly encountered Hung Mung, who was rambling about, slapping his
buttocks and hopping like a bird. Amazed at the sight, Yün Kiang stood
reverentially, and said to the other, 'Venerable Sir, who are you? and why
are you doing this?'
Hung Mung went on slapping his buttocks and
hopping like a bird, but replied,
'I am enjoying myself.'
Yün Kiang said,
'I wish to ask you a question.'
Hung Mung lifted up his head, looked at the
stranger, and said,
'Pooh!' Yün Kiang, however, continued, 'The
breath of heaven is out of harmony; the breath of earth is bound up; the six
elemental influences do not act in concord; the four seasons do not observe
their proper times. Now I wish to blend together the essential qualities of
those six influences in order to nourish all living things; -how shall I go
about it?'
Hung Mung slapped his buttocks, hopped
about, and shook his head, saying,
'I do not know; I do not know!'
Yün Kiang could not pursue his question;
but three years afterwards, when (again) rambling in the east, as he was
passing by the wild of Sung, he happened to meet Hung Mung. Delighted with
the rencontre, he hastened to him, and said,
'Have you forgotten me, O Heaven? Have you
forgotten me, O Heaven?'
At the same time, he bowed twice with his
head to the ground, wishing to receive his instructions. Hung Mung said,
'Wandering listlessly about, I know not
what I seek; carried on by a wild impulse, I know not where I am going. I
wander about in the strange manner (which you have seen), and see that
nothing proceeds without method and order; —what more should I know?'
Yün Kiang replied,
'I also seem carried on by an aimless
influence, and yet the people follow me wherever I go. I cannot help their
doing so. But now as they thus imitate me, I wish to hear a word from you
(in the case).'
The other said,
'What disturbs the regular method of
Heaven, comes into collision with the nature of things, prevents the
accomplishment of the mysterious (operation of) Heaven, scatters the herds
of animals, makes the birds all sing at night, is calamitous to vegetation,
and disastrous to all insects; -all this is owing, I conceive, to the error
of governing men.'
'What then,' said Yün Kiang, 'shall I do?'
'Ah,' said the other, 'you will only injure
them! I will leave you in my dancing way, and return to my place.'
Yün Kiang rejoined,
'It has been a difficult thing to get this
meeting with you, O Heaven! I should like to hear from you a word (more).'
Hung Mung said,
'Ah! your mind (needs to be) nourished. Do
you only take the position of doing nothing, and things will of themselves
become transformed. Neglect your body; cast out from you your power of
hearing and sight; forget what you have in common with things; cultivate a
grand similarity with the chaos of the plastic ether; unloose your mind; set
your spirit free; be still as if you had no soul. Of all the multitude of
things every one returns to its root. Every one returns to its root, and
does not know (that it is doing so). They all are as in the state of chaos,
and during all their existence they do not leave it. If they knew (that they
were returning to their root), they would be (consciously) leaving it. They
do not ask its name; they do not seek to spy out their nature; and thus it
is that things come to life of themselves.'
Yün Kiang said,
'Heaven, you have conferred on me (the
knowledge of) your operation, and revealed to me the mystery of it. All my
life I had been seeking for it, and now I have obtained it.'
He then bowed twice, with his head to the
ground, arose, took his leave, and walked away.
6:
The ordinary men of the world all rejoice in men's agreeing with
themselves, and dislike men's being different from themselves. This
rejoicing and this dislike arise from their being bent on making themselves
distinguished above all others. But have they who have this object at heart
so risen out above all others? They depend on them to rest quietly (in the
position which they desire), and their knowledge is not equal to the
multitude of the arts of all those others! When they wish again to
administer a state for its ruler, they proceed to employ all the methods
which the kings of the three dynasties considered profitable without seeing
the evils of such a course. This is to make the state depend on the
peradventure of their luck. But how seldom it is that that peradventure does
not issue in the ruin of the state! Not once in ten thousand instances will
such men preserve a state. Not once will they succeed, and in more than ten
thousand cases will they ruin it. Alas that the possessors of
territory,—(the rulers of states),—should not know the danger (of employing
such men)! Now the possessors of territory possess the greatest of (all)
things. Possessing the greatest of all things,—(possessing, that is,
men),—they should not try to deal with them as (simply) things. And it is he
who is not a thing (himself) that is therefore able to deal with (all)
things as they severally require. When (a ruler) clearly understands that he
who should so deal with all things is not a thing himself, will he only rule
the kingdom? He will go out and in throughout the universe (at his
pleasure); he will roam over the nine regions, alone in going, alone in
coming. Him we call the sole possessor (of this ability); and the sole
possessor (of this ability) is what is called the noblest of all.
The teaching of (this) great man goes forth
as the shadow from the substance, as the echo responds to the sound. When
questioned, he responds, exhausting (from his own stores) all that is in the
(enquirer's) mind, as if front to front with all under heaven. His
resting-place gives forth no sound; his sphere of activity has no
restriction of place. He conducts every one to his proper goal, proceeding
to it and bringing him back to it as by his own movement. His movements have
no trace; his going forth and his re-enterings have no deviation; his course
is like that of the sun without beginning (or ending). If you would praise
or discourse about his personality, he is united with the great community of
existences. He belongs to that great community, and has no individual self.
Having no individual self, how should he have anything that can be called
his? If you look at those who have what they call their own, they are the
superior men of former times; if you look at him who has nothing of the
kind, he is the friend of heaven and earth.
7:
Mean, and yet demanding to be allowed their free course; —such are
Things. Low, and yet requiring to be relied on; —such are the People. Hidden
(as to their issues), and yet requiring to be done; —such are Affairs.
Coarse, and yet necessary to be set forth; —such are Laws. Remote, and yet
necessary to have dwelling (in one's self); —such is Righteousness. Near,
and yet necessary to be widely extended; —such is Benevolence. Restrictive,
and yet necessary to be multiplied; —such are Ceremonies. Lodged in the
centre, and yet requiring to be exalted; —such is Virtue. Always One, and
yet requiring to be modified; —such is the Tao. Spirit-like, and yet
requiring to be exercised; —such is Heaven.
Therefore the sages contemplated Heaven,
but did not assist It. They tried to perfect their virtue, but did not allow
it to embarrass them. They proceeded according to the Tao, but did not lay
any plans. They associated benevolence (with all their doings), but did not
rely on it. They pursued righteousness extensively, but did not try to
accumulate it. They responded to ceremonies, but did not conceal (their
opinion as to the troublesomeness of them). They engaged in affairs as they
occurred, and did not decline them. They strove to render their laws
uniform, but (feared that confusion) might arise from them. They relied upon
the people, and did not set light by them. They depended on things as their
instruments, and did not discard them.
They did not think things equal to what
they employed them for, but yet they did not see that they could do without
employing them. Those who do not understand Heaven are not pure in their
virtue. Those who do not comprehend the Tao have no course which they can
pursue successfully. Alas for them who do not clearly understand the Tao!
What is it that we call the Tao? There is
the Tao, or Way of Heaven; and there is the Tao, or Way of Man. Doing
nothing and yet attracting all honour is the Way of Heaven; Doing and being
embarrassed thereby is the Way of Man. It is the Way of Heaven that plays
the part of the Lord; it is the Way of Man that plays the part of the
Servant. The Way of Heaven and the Way of Man are far apart. They should be
clearly distinguished from each other.
1:
Notwithstanding the greatness of heaven and earth, their transforming
power proceeds from one lathe; notwithstanding the number of the myriad
things, the government of them is one and the same; notwithstanding the
multitude of mankind, the lord of them is their (one) ruler. The ruler's
(course) should proceed from the qualities (of the Tao) and be perfected by
Heaven, when it is so, it is called 'Mysterious and Sublime.'
The ancients ruled the world by doing
nothing; -simply by this attribute of Heaven.
If we look at their words in the light of
the Tao, (we see that) the appellation for the ruler of the world was
correctly assigned; if we look in the same light at the distinctions which
they instituted, (we see that) the separation of ruler and ministers was
right; if we look at the abilities which they called forth in the same
light, (we see that the duties of) all the offices were well performed; and
if we look generally in the same way at all things, (we see that) their
response (to this rule) was complete. Therefore that which pervades (the
action of) Heaven and Earth is (this one) attribute; that which operates in
all things is (this one) course; that by which their superiors govern the
people is the business (of the various departments); and that by which
aptitude is given to ability is skill. The skill was manifested in all the
(departments of) business; those departments were all administered in
righteousness; the righteousness was (the outflow of) the natural virtue;
the virtue was manifested according to the Tao; and the Tao was according to
(the pattern of) Heaven.
Hence it is said,
'The ancients who had the nourishment of
the world wished for nothing and the world had enough; they did nothing and
all things were transformed; their stillness was abysmal, and the people
were all composed.'
The Record says, 'When the one (Tao)
pervades it, all business is completed. When the mind gets to be free from
all aim, even the Spirits submit.'
2:
The Master said,
'It is the Tao that overspreads and
sustains all things. How great It is in Its overflowing influence! The
Superior man ought by all means to remove from his mind (all that is
contrary to It). Acting without action is what is called Heaven(-like).
Speech coming forth of itself is what is called (a mark of) the (true)
Virtue. Loving men and benefiting things is what is called Benevolence.
Seeing wherein things that are different yet agree is what is called being
Great. Conduct free from the ambition of being distinguished above others is
what is called being Generous. The possession in himself of a myriad points
of difference is what is called being Rich. Therefore to hold fast the
natural attributes is what is called the Guiding Line (of government); the
perfecting of those attributes is what is called its Establishment;
accordance with the Tao is what is called being Complete; and not allowing
anything external to affect the will is what is called being Perfect. When
the Superior man understands these ten things, he keeps all matters as it
were sheathed in himself, showing the greatness of his mind; and through the
outflow of his doings, all things move (and come to him). Being such, he
lets the gold he hid in the hill, and the pearls in the deep; he considers
not property or money to be any gain; he keeps aloof from riches and
honours; he rejoices not in long life, and grieves not for early death; he
does not account prosperity a glory, nor is ashamed of indigence; he would
not grasp at the gain of the whole world to be held as his own private
portion; he would not desire to rule over the whole world as his own private
distinction. His distinction is in understanding that all things belong to
the one treasury, and that death and life should be viewed in the same way.'
3:
The Master said,
'How still and deep is the place where the
Tao resides! How limpid is its purity! Metal and stone without It would give
forth no sound. They have indeed the (power of) sound (in them), but if they
be not struck, they do not emit it. Who can determine (the qualities that
are in) all things?
'The man of kingly qualities holds on his
way unoccupied, and is ashamed to busy himself with (the conduct of)
affairs. He establishes himself in (what is) the root and source (of his
capacity), and his wisdom grows to be spirit-like. In this way his
attributes become more and more great, and when his mind goes forth,
whatever things come in his way, it lays hold of them (and deals with them).
Thus, if there were not the Tao, the bodily form would not have life, and
its life, without the attributes (of the Tao), would not be manifested. Is
not he who preserves the body and gives the fullest development to the life,
who establishes the attributes of the Tao and clearly displays It, possessed
of kingly qualities? How majestic is he in his sudden issuings forth, and in
his unexpected movements, when all things follow him!—This we call the man
whose qualities fit him to rule.
'He sees where there is the deepest
obscurity; he hears where there is no sound. In the midst of the deepest
obscurity, he alone sees and can distinguish (various objects); in the midst
of a soundless (abyss), he alone can hear a harmony (of notes). Therefore
where one deep is succeeded by a greater, he can people all with things;
where one mysterious range is followed by another that is more so, he can
lay hold of the subtlest character of each. In this way in his intercourse
with all things, while he is farthest from having anything, he can yet give
to them what they seek; while he is always hurrying forth, he yet returns to
his resting-place; now large, now small; now long, now short; now distant,
now near.'
4:
Hwang-Ti, enjoying himself on the north of the Red-water, ascended to the
height of the Kun-lun (mountain), and having looked towards the south, was
returning home, when he lost his dark-coloured pearl. He employed Wisdom to
search for it, but he could not find it. He employed (the clear-sighted) Li
Ku to search for it, but he could not find it. He employed (the vehement
debater) Khieh Khâu to search for it, but he could not find it. He then
employed Purposeless, who found it; on which Hwang-Ti said,
'How strange that it was Purposeless who
was able to find it!'
5:
The teacher of Yao was Hsü Yu; of Hsü Yu, Nieh Khüeh; of Nieh Khüeh, Wang
Î; of Wang Î, Phei-i. Yao asked Hsü Yu, saying,
'Is Nieh Khüeh fit to be the correlate of
Heaven? (If you think he is), I will avail myself of the services of Wang Î
to constrain him (to take my place).'
Hsü Yu replied,
'Such a measure would be hazardous, and
full of peril to the kingdom! The character of Nieh Khüeh is this; —he is
acute, perspicacious, shrewd and knowing, ready in reply, sharp in retort,
and hasty; his natural (endowments) surpass those of other men, but by his
human qualities he seeks to obtain the Heavenly gift; he exercises his
discrimination in suppressing his errors, but he does not know what is the
source from which his errors arise. Make him the correlate of Heaven! He
would employ the human qualities, so that no regard would be paid to the
Heavenly gift. Moreover, he would assign different functions to the
different parts of the one person.
Moreover, honour would be given to
knowledge, and he would have his plans take effect with the speed of fire.
Moreover, he would be the slave of everything he initiated. Moreover, he
would be embarrassed by things. Moreover, he would be looking all round for
the response of things (to his measures). Moreover, he would be responding
to the opinion of the multitude as to what was right. Moreover, he would be
changing as things changed, and would not begin to have any principle of
constancy. How can such a man be fit to be the correlate of Heaven?
Nevertheless, as there are the smaller branches of a family and the common
ancestor of all its branches, he might be the father of a branch, but not
the father of the fathers of all the branches. Such government (as he would
conduct) would lead to disorder. It would be calamity in one in the position
of a minister, and ruin if he were in the position of the sovereign.'
6:
Yao was looking about him at Hwâ, the border-warden of which said,
'Ha! the sage! Let me ask blessings on the
sage! May he live long!'
Yao said, 'Hush!' but the other went on,
'May the sage become rich!'
Yao (again) said, 'Hush!' but (the warden)
continued,
'May the sage have many sons!'
When Yao repeated his 'Hush,' the warden
said,
'Long life, riches, and many sons are what
men wish for; —how is it that you alone do not wish for them?'
Yao replied,
'Many sons bring many fears; riches bring
many troubles; and long life gives rise to many obloquies. These three
things do not help to nourish virtue; and therefore I wish to decline them.'
The warden rejoined,
'At first I considered you to be a sage;
now I see in you only a Superior man. Heaven, in producing the myriads of
the people, is sure to have appointed for them their several offices. If you
had many sons, and gave them (all their) offices, what would you have to
fear? If you had riches, and made other men share them with you, what
trouble would you have? The sage finds his dwelling like the quail (without
any choice of its own), and is fed like the fledgling; he is like the bird
which passes on (through the air), and leaves no trace (of its flight). When
good order prevails in the world, he shares in the general prosperity. When
there is no such order, he cultivates his virtue, and seeks to be
unoccupied. After a thousand years, tired of the world, he leaves it, and
ascends among the immortals. He mounts on the white clouds, and arrives at
the place of God. The three forms of evil do not reach him, his person is
always free from misfortune; —what obloquy has he to incur?'
With this the border-warden left him. Yao
followed him, saying,
'I beg to ask—' but the other said,
'Begone!'
7:
When Yao was ruling the world, Po-khäng Tzu-kâo was appointed by him
prince of one of the states. From Yao (afterwards) the throne passed to
Shun, and from Shun (again) to Yu; and (then) Po-khäng Tzu-kâo resigned his
principality and began to cultivate the ground. Yü went to see him, and
found him ploughing in the open country. Hurrying to him, and bowing low in
acknowledgment of his superiority, Yü then stood up, and asked him, saying,'
Formerly, when Yao was ruling the world, you, Sir, were appointed prince of
a state. He gave his sovereignty to Shun, and Shun gave his to me, when you,
Sir, resigned your dignity, and are (now) ploughing (here); —I venture to
ask the reason of your conduct.'
Tzu-kâo said,
'When Yao ruled the world, the people
stimulated one another (to what was right) without his offering them
rewards, and stood in awe (of doing wrong) without his threatening them with
punishments. Now you employ both rewards and punishments, and the people
notwithstanding are not good. Their virtue will from this time decay;
punishments will from this time prevail; the disorder of future ages will
from this time begin. Why do you, my master, not go away, and not interrupt
my work?'
With this he resumed his ploughing with his
head bent down, and did not (again) look round.
8:
In the Grand Beginning (of all things) there was nothing in all the
vacancy of space; there was nothing that could be named. It was in this
state that there arose the first existence; —the first existence, but still
without bodily shape. From this things could then be produced, (receiving)
what we call their proper character. That which had no bodily shape was
divided; and then without intermission there was what we call the process of
conferring. (The two processes) continuing in operation, things were
produced. As things were completed, there were produced the distinguishing
lines of each, which we call the bodily shape. That shape was the body
preserving in it the spirit 5, and each had its peculiar manifestation,
which we call its Nature. When the Nature has been cultivated, it returns to
its proper character; and when that has been fully reached, there is the
same condition as at the Beginning. That sameness is pure vacancy, and the
vacancy is great. It is like the closing of the beak and silencing the
singing (of a bird). That closing and silencing is like the union of heaven
and earth (at the beginning). The union, effected, as it is, might seem to
indicate stupidity or darkness, but it is what we call the 'mysterious
quality' (existing at the beginning); it is the same as the Grand Submission
(to the Natural Course).
9:
The Master' asked Lao Tan, saying,
'Some men regulate the Tao (as by a law),
which they have only to follow; —(a thing, they say,) is admissible or it is
inadmissible; it is so, or it is not so. (They are like) the sophists who
say that they can distinguish what is hard and what is white as clearly as
if the objects were houses suspended in the sky. Can such men be said to be
sages?'
The reply was,
'They are like the busy underlings of a
court, who toil their bodies and distress their minds with their various
artifices; —dogs, (employed) to their sorrow to catch the yak, or monkeys
that are brought from their forests (for their tricksiness). Khiu, I tell
you this; -it is what you cannot hear, and what you cannot speak of:—Of
those who have their heads and feet, and yet have neither minds nor ears,
there are multitudes; while of those who have their bodies, and at the same
time preserve that which has no bodily form or shape, there are really none.
It is not in their movements or stoppages, their dying or living, their
falling and rising again, that this is to be found. The regulation of the
course lies in (their dealing with) the human element in them. When they
have forgotten external things, and have also forgotten the heavenly element
in them, they may be named men who have forgotten themselves. The man who
has forgotten himself is he of whom it is said that he has become identified
with Heaven.'
10:
At an interview with Ki Khê h, Kiang-lü Mien said to him,
'Our ruler of Lu asked to receive my
instructions. I declined, on the ground that I had not received any message
for him. Afterwards, however, I told him (my thoughts). I do not know
whether (what I said) was right or not, and I beg to repeat it to you. I
said to him, "You must strive to be courteous and to exercise
self-restraint; you must distinguish the public-spirited and loyal, and
repress the cringing and selfish; —who among the people will in that case
dare not to be in harmony with you?"' Ki Khê h laughed quietly and said,
'Your words, my master, as a description of
the right course for a Ti or King, were like the threatening movement of its
arms by a mantis which would thereby stop the advance of a carriage;
—inadequate to accomplish your object. And moreover, if he guided himself by
your directions, it would be as if he were to increase the dangerous height
of his towers and add to the number of his valuables collected in them; —the
multitudes (of the people) would leave their (old) ways, and bend their
steps in the same direction.'
Kiang-lü Mien was awe-struck, and said in
his fright,
'I am startled by your words, Master,
nevertheless, I should like to hear you describe the influence (which a
ruler should exert).'
The other said,
'If a great sage ruled the kingdom, he
would stimulate the minds of the people, and cause them to carry out his
instructions fully, and change their manners; he would take their minds
which had become evil and violent and extinguish them, carrying them all
forward to act in accordance with the (good) will belonging to them as
individuals, as if they did it of themselves from their nature, while they
knew not what it was that made them do so. Would such an one be willing to
look up to Yao and Shun in their instruction of the people as his elder
brothers? He would treat them as his juniors, belonging himself to the
period of the original plastic ether. His wish would be that all should
agree with the virtue (of that early period), and quietly rest in it.'
11:
Tzu-kung had been rambling in the south in Ku, and was returning to Zin.
As he passed (a place) on the north of the Han, he saw an old man who was
going to work on his vegetable garden. He had dug his channels, gone to the
well, and was bringing from it in his arms a jar of water to pour into them.
Toiling away, he expended a great deal of strength, but the result which he
accomplished was very small. Tzu-kung said to him,
'There is a contrivance here, by means of
which a hundred plots of ground may be irrigated in one day. With the
expenditure of a very little strength, the result accomplished is great.
Would you, Master, not like (to try it)?'
The gardener looked up at him, and said,
'How does it work?'
Tzu-kung said,
'It is a lever made of wood, heavy behind,
and light in front. It raises the water as quickly as you could do with your
hand, or as it bubbles over from a boiler. Its name is a shadoof.'
The gardener put on an angry look, laughed,
and said,
'I have heard from my teacher that, where
there are ingenious contrivances, there are sure to be subtle doings; and
that, where there are subtle doings, there is sure to be a scheming mind.
But, when there is a scheming mind in the breast, its pure simplicity is
impaired. When this pure simplicity is impaired, the spirit becomes
unsettled, and the unsettled spirit is not the proper residence of the Tao.
It is not that I do not know (the contrivance which you mention), but I
should be ashamed to use it.'
(At these words) Tzu-kung looked blank and
ashamed; he hung down his head, and made no reply. After an interval, the
gardener said to him,
'Who are you, Sir? A disciple of Khung Khiu,'
was the reply. The other continued,
'Are you not the scholar whose great
learning makes you comparable to a sage, who make it your boast that you
surpass all others, who sing melancholy ditties all by yourself, thus
purchasing a famous reputation throughout the kingdom? If you would (only)
forget the energy of your spirit, and neglect the care of your body, you
might approximate (to the Tao). But while you cannot regulate yourself, what
leisure have you to be regulating the world? Go on your way, Sir, and do not
interrupt my work.'
Sze-kung shrunk back abashed, and turned
pale. He was perturbed, and lost his self-possession, nor did he recover it,
till he had walked a distance of thirty li. His disciples then said,
'Who was that man? Why, Master, when you
saw him, did you change your bearing, and become pale, so that you have been
all day without returning to yourself?'
He replied to them,
'Formerly I thought that there was but one
man in the world, and did not know that there was this man. I have heard the
Master say that to seek for the means of conducting his undertakings so that
his success in carrying them out may be complete, and how by the employment
of a little strength great results may be obtained, is the way of the sage.
Now (I perceive that) it is not so at all. They who hold fast and cleave to
the Tao are complete in the qualities belonging to it. complete in those
qualities, they are complete in their bodies. Complete in their bodies, they
are complete in their spirits. To be complete in spirit is the way of the
sage. (Such men) live in the world in closest union with the people, going
along with them, but they do not know where they are going. Vast and
complete is their simplicity! Success, gain, and ingenious contrivances, and
artful cleverness, indicate (in their opinion) a forgetfulness of the
(proper) mind of man. These men will not go where their mind does not carry
them, and will do nothing of which their mind does not approve. Though all
the world should praise them, they would (only) get what they think should
be loftily disregarded; and though all the world should blame them, they
would but lose (what they think) fortuitous and not to be received; -the
world's blame and praise can do them neither benefit nor injury. Such men
may be described as possessing all the attributes (of the Tao), while I can
only be called one of those who are like the waves carried about by the
wind.'
When he returned to Lu, (Tzu-kung) reported
the interview and conversation to Confucius, who said,
'The man makes a pretence of cultivating
the arts of the Embryonic Age'. He knows the first thing, but not the sequel
to it. He regulates what is internal in himself, but not what is external to
himself. If he had intelligence enough to be entirely unsophisticated, and
by doing nothing to seek to return to the normal simplicity, embodying (the
instincts of) his nature, and keeping his spirit (as it were) in his arms,
so enjoying himself in the common ways, you might then indeed be afraid of
him! But what should you and I find in the arts of the embryonic time, worth
our knowing?'
12:
Kun Mang, on his way to the ocean, met with Yü an Fung on the shore of
the eastern sea, and was asked by him where he was going.
'I am going,' he replied, 'to the ocean;'
and the other again asked,
'What for?'
Kun Mâng said,
'Such is the nature of the ocean that the
waters which flow into it can never fill it, nor those which flow from it
exhaust it. I will enjoy myself, rambling by it.'
Yü an Fung replied,
'Have you no thoughts about mankind'? I
should like to hear from you about sagely government.'
Kun Mâng said,
'Under the government of sages, all offices
are distributed according to the fitness of their nature; all appointments
are made according to the ability of the men; whatever is done is after a
complete survey of all circumstances; actions and words proceed from the
inner impulse, and the whole world is transformed. Wherever their hands are
pointed and their looks directed, from all quarters the people are all sure
to come (to do what they desire):—this is what is called government by
sages.'
'I should like to hear about (the
government of) the kindly, virtuous men,' (continued Yü an Fung).
The reply was,
'Under the government of the virtuous, when
quietly occupying (their place), they have no thought, and, when they act,
they have no anxiety; they do not keep stored (in their minds) what is right
and what is wrong, what is good and what is bad. They share their benefits
among all within the four seas, and this produces what is called (the state
of) satisfaction; they dispense their gifts to all, and this produces what
is called (the state of) rest. (The people) grieve (on their death) like
babies who have lost their mothers, and are perplexed like travellers who
have lost their way. They have a superabundance of wealth and all
necessaries, and they know not whence it comes; they have a sufficiency of
food and drink, and they know not from whom they get it:—such are the
appearances (under the government) of the kindly and virtuous.'
'I should like to hear about (the
government of) the spirit-like men,' (continued Yü an Fung once more).
The reply was,
'Men of the highest spirit-like qualities
mount up on the light, and (the limitations of) the body vanish. This we
call being bright and ethereal. They carry out to the utmost the powers with
which they are endowed, and have not a single attribute unexhausted. Their
joy is that of heaven and earth, and all embarrassments of affairs melt away
and disappear; all things return to their proper nature:—and this is what is
called (the state of) chaotic obscurity.'
13:
Män Wu-kwei and Khih-kang Man-khi had been looking at the army of king
Wu, when the latter said,
'It is because he was not born in the time
of the Lord of Yü, that therefore he is involved in this trouble (of war).'
Män Wu-kwei replied,
'Was it when the kingdom was in good order,
that the Lord of Yü governed it? or was it after it had become disordered
that he governed it?'
The other said,
'That the kingdom be in a condition of good
order, is what (all) desire, and (in that case) what necessity would there
be to say anything about the Lord of Yü? He had medicine for sores; false
hair for the bald; and healing for those who were ill:—he was like the
filial son carrying in the medicine to cure his kind father, with every sign
of distress in his countenance. A sage would be ashamed (of such a thing).
'In the age of perfect virtue they attached
no value to wisdom, nor employed men of ability. Superiors were (but) as the
higher branches of a tree; and the people were like the deer of the wild.
They were upright and correct, without knowing that to be so was
Righteousness; they loved one another, without knowing that to do so was
Benevolence; they were honest and leal-hearted, without knowing that it was
Loyalty; they fulfilled their engagements, without knowing that to do so was
Good Faith; in their simple movements they employed the services of one
another, without thinking that they were conferring or receiving any gift.
Therefore their actions left no trace, and there was no record of their
affairs.'
14:
The filial son who does not flatter his father, and the loyal minister
who does not fawn on his ruler, are the highest examples of a minister and a
son. When a son assents to all that his father says, and approves of all
that his father does, common opinion pronounces him an unworthy son; when a
minister assents to all that his ruler says, and approves of all that his
ruler does, common opinion pronounces him an unworthy minister. Nor does any
one reflect that this view is necessarily correct. But when common opinion
(itself) affirms anything and men therefore assent to it, or counts anything
good and men also approve of it, then it is not said that they are mere
consenters and flatterers; —is common opinion then more authoritative than a
father, or more to be honoured than a ruler? Tell a man that he is merely
following (the opinions) of another, or that he is a flatterer of others,
and at once he flushes with anger. And yet all his life he is merely
following others, and flattering them. His illustrations are made to agree
with theirs; his phrases are glossed:—to win the approbation of the
multitudes. From first to last, from beginning to end, he finds no fault
with their views. He will let his robes hang down, display the colours on
them, and arrange his movements and bearing, so as to win the favour of his
age, and yet not call himself a flatterer. He is but a follower of those
others, approving and disapproving as they do, and yet he will not say that
he is one of them. This is the height of stupidity.
He who knows his stupidity is not very
stupid; he who knows that he is under a delusion is not greatly deluded. He
who is greatly deluded will never shake the delusion off; he who is very
stupid will all his life not become intelligent. If three men be walking
together, and (only) one of them be under a delusion (as to their way), they
may yet reach their goal, the deluded being the fewer; but if two of them be
under the delusion, they will not do so, the deluded being the majority. At
the present time, when the whole world is under a delusion, though I pray
men to go in the right direction, I cannot make them do so; —is it not a sad
case?
Grand music does not penetrate the ears of
villagers; but if they hear 'The Breaking of the Willow,' or 'The Bright
Flowers,' they will roar with laughter. So it is that lofty words do not
remain in the minds of the multitude, and that perfect words are not heard,
because the vulgar words predominate. By two earthenware instruments the
(music of) a bell will be confused, and the pleasure that it would afford
cannot be obtained. At the present time the whole world is under a delusion,
and though I wish to go in a certain direction, how can I succeed in doing
so? Knowing that I cannot do so, if I were to try to force my way, that
would be another delusion. Therefore my best course is to let my purpose go,
and no more pursue it. If I do not pursue it, whom shall 1 have to share in
my sorrow?
If an ugly man have a son born to him at
midnight, he hastens with a light to look at it. Very eagerly he does so,
only afraid that it may be like himself.
15:
From a tree a hundred years old a portion shall be cut and fashioned into
a sacrificial vase, with the bull figured on it, which is ornamented further
with green and yellow, while the rest (of that portion) is cut away and
thrown into a ditch. If now we compare the sacrificial vase with what was
thrown into the ditch, there will be a difference between them as respects
their beauty and ugliness; but they both agree in having lost the (proper)
nature of the wood. So in respect of their practice of righteousness there
is a difference between (the robber) Kih on the one hand, and Zäng (Shän) or
Shih (Zhiu) on the other; but they all agree in having lost (the proper
qualities of) their nature.
Now there are five things which produce (in
men) the loss of their (proper) nature. The first is (their fondness for)
the five colours which disorder the eye, and take from it its (proper)
clearness of vision; the second is (their fondness for) the five notes (of
music), which disorder the ear and take from it its (proper) power of
hearing; the third is (their fondness for) the five odours which penetrate
the nostrils, and produce a feeling of distress all over the forehead; the
fourth is (their fondness for) the five flavours, which deaden the mouth,
and pervert its sense of taste; the fifth is their preferences and dislikes,
which unsettle the mind, and cause the nature to go flying about. These five
things are all injurious to the life; and now Yang and Mo begin to stretch
forward from their different standpoints, each thinking that he has hit on
(the proper course for men).
But the courses they have hit on are not
what I call the proper course. What they have hit on (only) leads to
distress; —can they have hit on what is the right thing? If they have, we
may say that the dove in a cage has found the right thing for it. Moreover,
those preferences and dislikes, that (fondness for) music and colours, serve
but to pile up fuel (in their breasts); while their caps of leather, the
bonnet with kingfishers' plumes, the memorandum tablets which they carry,
and their long girdles, serve but as restraints on their persons. Thus
inwardly stuffed full as a hole for fuel, and outwardly fast bound with
cords, when they look quietly round from out of their bondage, and think
they have got all they could desire, they are no better than criminals whose
arms are tied together, and their fingers subjected to the screw, or than
tigers and leopards in sacks or cages, and yet thinking that they have got
(all they could wish).
1:
The Way of Heaven operates (unceasingly), and leaves no accumulation (of
its influence) in any particular place, so that all things are brought to
perfection by it; so does the Way of the Ti s operate, and all under the sky
turn to them (as their directors); so also does the Way of the Sages
operate, and all within the seas submit to them. Those who clearly
understand (the Way of) Heaven, who are in sympathy with (that of) the
sages, and familiar through the universe and in the four quarters (of the
earth) with the work of the Ti s and the kings, yet act spontaneously from
themselves:—with the appearance of being ignorant they are yet entirely
still.
The stillness of the sages does not belong
to them as a consequence of their skilful ability; all things are not able
to disturb their minds; —it is on this account that they are still. When
water is still, its clearness shows the beard and eyebrows (of him who looks
into it). It is a perfect Level, and the greatest artificer takes his rule
from it. Such is the clearness of still water, and how much greater is that
of the human Spirit! The still mind of the sage is the mirror of heaven and
earth, the glass of all things.
Vacancy, stillness, placidity,
tastelessness, quietude, silence, and non-action; —this is the Level of
heaven and earth, and the perfection of the Tao and its characteristics.
Therefore the Ti s, Kings, and Sages found in this their resting-place.
Resting here, they were vacant; from their vacancy came fullness; from their
fullness came the nice distinctions (of things). From their vacancy came
stillness; that stillness was followed by movement; their movements were
successful. From their stillness came their non-action. Doing-nothing, they
devolved the cares of office on their employé s. Doing-nothing was
accompanied by the feeling of satisfaction. Where there is that feeling of
satisfaction, anxieties and troubles find no place; and the years of life
are many.
Vacancy, stillness, placidity,
tastelessness, quietude, silence, and doing-nothing are the root of all
things. When this is understood, we find such a ruler on the throne as Yao,
and such a minister as Shun. When with this a high position is occupied, we
find the attributes of the Ti s and kings,—the sons of Heaven; with this in
a low position, we find the mysterious sages, the uncrowned kings, with
their ways. With this retiring (from public life), and enjoying themselves
at leisure, we find the scholars who dwell by the rivers and seas, among the
hills and forests, all submissive to it; with this coming forward to active
life and comforting their age, their merit is great, and their fame is
distinguished; —and all the world becomes united in one.
2:
(Such men) by their stillness become sages and by their movement, kings.
Doing-nothing, they are honoured; in their plain simplicity, no one in the
world can strive with them (for the palm of) excellence. The clear
understanding of the virtue of Heaven and Earth is what is called 'The Great
Root,' and 'The Great Origin; '—they who have it are in harmony with Heaven,
and so they produce all equable arrangements in the world; —they are those
who are in harmony with men. Being in harmony with men is called the joy of
men; being in harmony with Heaven is called the joy of Heaven. Master Chuang
said,
'My Master! my Master! He shall hash and
blend all things in mass without being cruel; he shall dispense his favours
to all ages without being benevolent. He is older than the highest
antiquity, and yet is not old. He overspreads the heavens and sustains the
earth; from him is the carving of all forms without any artful skill! This
is what is called the Joy of Heaven. Hence it is said, "Those who know the
Joy of Heaven during their life, act like Heaven, and at death undergo
transformation like (other) things; in their stillness they possess the
quality of the Yin, and in their movement they flow abroad as the Yang.
Therefore he who knows the joy of Heaven has no murmuring against Heaven,
nor any fault-finding with men; and suffers no embarrassment from things,
nor any reproof from ghosts. Hence it is said, His movements are those of
Heaven; his stillness is that of Earth; his whole mind is fixed, and he
rules over the world. The spirits of his dead do not come to scare him; he
is not worn out by their souls. His words proceeding from his vacancy and
stillness, yet reach to heaven and earth, and show a communication with all
things:—this is what is called the joy of Heaven. This joy of Heaven forms
the mind of the sage whereby he nurtures all under the sky.'"'
3:
It was the Way of the Ti s and Kings to regard Heaven and Earth as their
Author, the Tao and its characteristics as their Lord, and Doing-nothing as
their constant rule. Doing-nothing, they could use the whole world in their
service and might have done more; acting, they were not sufficient for the
service required of them by the world. Hence the men of old held
non-inaction in honour. When superiors do nothing and their inferiors also
do nothing, inferiors and superiors possess the same virtue; and when
inferiors and superiors possess the same virtue, there are none to act as
ministers. When inferiors act, and their superiors also act, then superiors
and inferiors possess the same Tao; and when superiors and inferiors possess
the same Tao, there is none to preside as Lord. But that the superiors do
nothing and yet thereby use the world in their service, and that the
inferiors, while acting, be employed in the service of the world, is an
unchangeable principle. Therefore the ancient kings who presided over the
world, though their knowledge embraced (all the operations of) Heaven and
Earth, took no thought of their own about them; though their nice
discrimination appreciated the fine fashioning of all things, they said not
a word about it; though their power comprehended all within the seas, they
did nothing themselves. Heaven produces nothing, yet all things experience
their transformations; Earth effects no growth, yet all things receive their
nurture; the Ti s and Kings did nothing, yet all the world testified their
effective services. Hence it is said,
'There is nothing more spirit-like than
Heaven; there is nothing richer than Earth; there are none greater than the
Ti s and Kings.'
Hence it is said (further),
'The attributes of the Tis and kings
corresponded to those of Heaven and Earth.'
It was thus that they availed themselves of
(the operations of) Heaven and Earth, carried all things on unceasingly (in
their courses), and employed the various classes of men in their service.
4:
Originating belongs to those in the higher position; details (of work) to
those who are in the lower. The compendious decision belongs to the lord;
the minutiae of execution, to his ministers. The direction of the three
hosts and their men with the five weapons is but a trifling quality; rewards
and penalties with their advantages and sufferings, and the inflictions of
the five punishments are but trivial elements of instruction; ceremonies,
laws, measures, and numbers, with all the minutiae of jurisprudence, are
small matters in government; the notes of bells and drums, and the display
of plumes and flags are the slightest things in music, and the various
grades of the mourning garments are the most unimportant manifestations of
grief. These five unimportant adjuncts required the operation of the excited
spirit and the employment of the arts of the mind, to bring them into use.
The men of old had them indeed, but they did not give them the first place.
The ruler precedes, and the minister
follows; the father precedes, and the son follows; the elder brother
precedes, and the younger follows; the senior precedes, and the junior
follows; the male precedes, and the female follows; the husband precedes,
and the wife follows.
This precedence of the more honourable and
sequence of the meaner is seen in the (relative) action of heaven and earth,
and hence the sages took them as their pattern. The more honourable position
of heaven and the lower one of earth are equivalent to a designation of
their spirit-like and intelligent qualities. The precedence of spring and
summer and the sequence of autumn and winter mark the order of the four
seasons. In the transformations and growth of all things, every bud and
feature has its proper form; and in this we have their gradual maturing and
decay, the constant flow of transformation and change. Thus since Heaven and
Earth, which are most spirit-like, are distinguished as more honourable and
less, and by precedence and sequence, how much more must we look for this in
the ways of men! In the ancestral temple it is to kinship that honour is
given; in court, to rank; in the neighbourhoods and districts, to age; in
the conduct of affairs, to wisdom; such is the order in those great ways. If
we speak of the course (to be pursued in them), and do not observe their
order, we violate their course. If we speak of the course, and do not
observe it, why do we apply that name to it?
5:
Therefore the ancients who clearly understood the great Tao first sought
to apprehend what was meant by Heaven, and the Tao and its characteristics
came next. When this was apprehended, then came Benevolence and
Righteousness. When these were apprehended, then came the Distinction of
duties and the observance of them. This accomplished, there came objects and
their names. After objects and their names, came the employment of men
according to their qualities: on this there followed the examination of the
men and of their work. This led to the approval or disapproval of them,
which again was succeeded by the apportioning of rewards and penalties.
After this the stupid and the intelligent understood what was required of
them, and the honourable and the mean occupied their several positions. The
good and the able, and those inferior to them, sincerely did their best.
Their ability was distributed; the duties implied in their official names
were fulfilled. In this way did they serve their superiors, nourish their
inferiors, regulate things, and cultivate their persons. They did not call
their knowledge and schemes into requisition; they were required to fall
back upon (the method of) Heaven:—this was what is called the Perfection of
the Rule of Great Peace. Hence it is said in the Book,
'There are objects and there are their
names.'
Objects and their names the ancients had;
but they did not put them in the foremost place.
When the ancients spoke of the Great Tao,
it was only after four other steps that they gave a place to 'Objects and
their Names,' and after eight steps that they gave a place to 'Rewards and
Penalties.'
If they had all at once spoken of 'Objects
and their Names,' they would have shown an ignorance of what is the Root (of
government); if they had all at once spoken of 'Rewards and Penalties,' they
would have shown an ignorance of the first steps of it. Those whose words
are thus an inversion of the (proper) course, or in opposition to it, are
(only fit to be) ruled by others; -how can they rule others? To speak all at
once of 'Objects and their Names,' and of 'Rewards and Penalties,' only
shows that the speaker knows the instruments of government, but does not
know the method of it, is fit to be used as an instrument in the world, but
not fit to use others as his instruments:—he is what we call a mere sophist,
a man of one small idea. Ceremonies, laws, numbers, measures, with all the
minutiae of jurisprudence, the ancients had; but it is by these that
inferiors serve their superiors; it is not by them that those superiors
nourish the world.
6:
Anciently, Shun asked Yao, saying,
'In what way does your Majesty by the Grace
of Heaven' exercise your mind?'
The reply was,
'I simply show no arrogance towards the
helpless; I do not neglect the poor people; I grieve for those who die; I
love their infant children; and I compassionate their widows.'
Shun rejoined,
'Admirable, as far as it goes; but it is
not what is Great.'
How then,' asked Yao, 'do you think I
should do?'
Shun replied,
'When (a sovereign) possesses the virtue of
Heaven, then when he shows himself in action, it is in stillness. The sun
and moon (simply) shine, and the four seasons pursue their courses. So it is
with the regular phenomena of day and night, and with the movement of the
clouds by which the rain is distributed.'
Yao said,
'Then I have only been persistently
troubling myself! What you wish is to be in harmony with Heaven, while I
wish to be in harmony with men.'
Now (the Way of) Heaven and Earth was much
thought of of old, and Hwang-Ti, Yao, and Shun united in admiring it. Hence
the kings of the world of old did nothing, but tried to imitate that Way.
7:
Confucius went to the west to deposit (some) writings in the library of
Kâu, when Tzu-lu counselled him, saying,
'I have heard that the officer in charge of
this Käng Repository of Kâu was one Lao Tan, who has given up his office,
and is living in his own house. As you, Master, wish to deposit these
writings here, why not go to him, and obtain his help (to accomplish your
object).'
Confucius said,
'Good;' and he went and saw Lao Tan, who
refused his assistance. On this he proceeded to give an abstract of the
Twelve Classics to bring the other over to his views. Lao Tan, however,
interrupted him while he was speaking, and said,
'This is too vague; let me hear the
substance of them in brief'. Confucius said,
'The substance of them is occupied with
Benevolence and Righteousness.'
The other said,
'Let me ask whether you consider
Benevolence and Righteousness to constitute the nature of man?'
'I do,' was the answer.
'If the superior man be not benevolent, he
will not fulfil his character; if he be not righteous, he might as well not
have been born. Benevolence and Righteousness are truly the nature of man.'
Lao Tan continued,
'Let me ask you what you mean by
Benevolence and Righteousness.'
Confucius said,
'To be in one's inmost heart in kindly
sympathy with all things; to love all men; and to allow no selfish thoughts;
—this is the nature of Benevolence and Righteousness.'
Lao Tan exclaimed,
'Ah! you almost show your inferiority by
such words! "To love all men!" is not that vague and extravagant? "To be
seeking to allow no selfish thoughts!"—that is selfishness! If you, Master,
wish men not to be without their (proper) shepherding, think of Heaven and
Earth, which certainly pursue their invariable course; think of the sun and
moon, which surely maintain their brightness; think of the stars in the
zodiac, which preserve their order and courses; think of birds and beasts,
which do not fail to collect together in their flocks and herds; and think
of the trees, which do not fail to stand up (in their places). Do you,
Master, imitate this way and carry it into practice; hurry on, following
this course, and you will reach your end. Why must you further be vehement
in putting forward your Benevolence and Righteousness, as if you were
beating a drum, and seeking a fugitive son, (only making him run away the
more)? Ah! Master, you are introducing disorder into the nature of man!'
8:
Shih-khäng Khi, having an interview with Master Lao, asked him, saying,
'I heard, Master, that you were a sage, and
I came here, wishing to see you, without grudging the length of the journey.
During the stages of the hundred days, the soles of my feet became quite
callous, but I did not dare to stop and rest. Now I perceive that you are
not a sage. Because there was some rice left about the holes of the rats,
you sent away your younger sister, which was unkind; when your food, whether
raw or cooked, remains before you not all consumed, you keep on hoarding it
up to any extent.'
Master Lao looked indifferent, and gave him
no answer.
Next day Khi again saw Master Lao, and
said,
'Yesterday I taunted you; but today I have
gone back to a better mood of mind. What is the cause (of the change)?'
Master Lao replied,
'I consider that I have freed myself from
the trammels of claiming to be artfully knowing, spirit-like, and sage.
Yesterday if you had called me an ox, you might have done so; or if you had
called me a horse, you might have done so. If there be a reality
(corresponding to men's ideas), and men give it a name, which another will
not receive, he will in the sequel suffer the more. My manner was what I
constantly observe; —I did not put it on for the occasion.'
Shih-khäng Khi sidled away out of Lao's
shadow; then he retraced his steps, advanced forward, and asked how he
should cultivate himself. The reply was,
'Your demeanour is repelling; you stare
with your eyes; your forehead is broad and yet tapering; you bark and growl
with your mouth; your appearance is severe and pretentious; you are like a
horse held by its tether, you would move, but are restrained, and (if let
go) would start off like an arrow from a bow; you examine all the minutiae
of a thing; your wisdom is artful, and yet you try to look at ease. All
these are to be considered proofs of your want of sincerity. If on the
borders one were to be found with them, he would be named a Thief.'
9:
The Master said,
'The Tao does not exhaust itself in what is
greatest, nor is it ever absent from what is least; and therefore it is to
be found complete and diffused in all things. How wide is its universal
comprehension! How deep is its unfathomableness! The embodiment of its
attributes in benevolence and righteousness is but a small result of its
spirit-like (working); but it is only the perfect man who can determine
this. The perfect man has (the charge of) the world; —is not the charge
great? and yet it is not sufficient to embarrass him. He wields the handle
of power over the whole world, and yet it is nothing to him. His
discrimination detects everything false, and no consideration of gain moves
him. He penetrates to the truth of things, and can guard that which is
fundamental. So it is that heaven and earth are external to him, and he
views all things with indifference, and his spirit is never straitened by
them. He has comprehended the Tho, and is in harmony with its
characteristics; he pushes back benevolence and righteousness (into their
proper place), and deals with ceremonies and music as (simply) guests:—yes,
the mind of the perfect man determines all things aright.'
10:
What the world thinks the most valuable exhibition of the Tao is to be
found in books. But books are only a collection of words. Words have what is
valuable in them; —what is valuable in words is the ideas they convey. But
those ideas are a sequence of something else; —and what that something else
is cannot be conveyed by words. When the world, because of the value which
it attaches to words, commits them to books, that for which it so values
them may not deserve to be valued; —because that which it values is not what
is really valuable.
Thus it is that what we look at and can see
is (only) the outward form and colour, and what we listen to and can hear is
(only) names and sounds. Alas! that men of the world should think that form
and colour, name and sound, should be sufficient to give them the real
nature of the Tao. The form and colour, the name and sound, are certainly
not sufficient to convey its real nature; and so it is that 'the wise do not
speak and those who do speak are not wise.'
How should the world know that real nature?
Duke Hwan, seated above in his hall, was
(once) reading a book, and the wheelwright Phien was making a wheel below
it. Laying aside his hammer and chisel, Phien went up the steps, and said,
'I venture to ask your Grace what words you
are reading?'
The duke said, 'The words of the sages.'
'Are those sages alive?' Phien continued.
'They are dead,' was the reply.
'Then,' said the other, 'what you, my
Ruler, are reading are only the dregs and sediments of those old men.'
The duke said,
'How should you, a wheelwright, have
anything to say about the book which I am reading? If you can explain
yourself, very well; if you cannot, you shall die!' The wheelwright said,
'Your servant will look at the thing from
the point of view of his own art. In making a wheel, if I proceed gently,
that is pleasant enough, but the workmanship is not strong; if I proceed
violently, that is toilsome and the joinings do not fit. If the movements of
my hand are neither (too) gentle nor (too) violent, the idea in my mind is
realised. But I cannot tell (how to do this) by word of mouth; there is a
knack in it. I cannot teach the knack to my son, nor can my son learn it
from me. Thus it is that I am in my seventieth year, and am (still) making
wheels in my old age. But these ancients, and what it was not possible for
them to Convey, are dead and gone:—so then what you, my Ruler, are reading
is but their dregs and sediments!'
1:
How (ceaselessly) heaven revolves! Flow (constantly) earth abides at
rest! And do the sun and moon contend about their (respective) places? Who
presides over and directs these (things)? Who binds and connects them
together? Who is it that, without trouble or exertion on his part, causes
and maintains them? Is it, perhaps, that there is some secret spring, in
consequence of which they cannot be but as they are? Or is it, perhaps, that
they move and turn as they do, and cannot stop of themselves?
(Then) how the clouds become rain! And how
the rain again forms the clouds! Who diffuses them so abundantly? Who is it
that, without trouble or exertion on his part, produces this elemental
enjoyment, and seems to stimulate it?
The winds rise in the north; one blows to
the west, and another to the east; while some rise upwards, uncertain in
their direction. By whose breathing are they produced? Who is it that,
without any trouble and exertion of his own, effects all their undulations?
I venture to ask their cause.
Wu-hsien Thiâo said,
'Come, and I will tell you. To heaven there
belong the six Extreme Points, and the five Elements. When the Tis and Kings
acted in accordance with them, there was good government; when they acted
contrary to them, there was evil. Observing the things (described) in the
nine divisions (of the writing) of Lo, their government was perfected and
their virtue was complete. They inspected and enlightened the kingdom
beneath them, and all under the sky acknowledged and sustained them. Such
was the condition under the august (sovereigns ) and those before them.'
2:
Tang, the chief administrator of Shang, asked Master Chuang about
Benevolence, and the answer was,
'Wolves and tigers are benevolent.'
'What do you mean?' said Tang.
Master Chuang replied,
'Father and son (among them) are
affectionate to one another. Why should they be considered as not
benevolent?'
'Allow me to ask about perfect
benevolence,' pursued the other.
Master Chuang said,
'Perfect benevolence does not admit (the
feeling) of affection.'
The minister said,
'I have heard that, without (the feeling
of) affection there is no love, and without love there is not filial duty;
—is it permissible to say that the perfectly benevolent are not filial?'
Master Chuang rejoined,
'That is not the way to put the case.
Perfect Benevolence is the very highest thing; —filial duty is by no means
sufficient to describe it. The saying which you quote is not to the effect
that (such benevolence) transcends filial duty; —it does not refer to such
duty at all. One, travelling to the south, comes (at last) to Ying, and
there, standing with his face to the north, he does not see mount Ming. Why
does he not see it? Because he is so far from it. Hence it is said, "Filial
duty as a part of reverence is easy, but filial duty as a part of love is
difficult. If it be easy as a part of love, yet it is difficult to forget
one's parents. It may be easy for me to forget my parents, but it is
difficult to make my parents forget me. If it were easy to make my parents
forget me, it is difficult for me to forget all men in the world. If it were
easy to forget all men in the world, it is difficult to make them all forget
me."
'This virtue might make one think light of
Yao and Shun, and not wish to be they. The profit and beneficial influences
of it extend to a myriad ages, and no one in the world knows whence they
come. How can you simply heave a great sigh, and speak (as you do) of
benevolence and filial duty? Filial duty, fraternal respect, benevolence,
righteousness, loyalty, sincerity, firmness, and purity; —all these may be
pressed into the service of this virtue, but they are far from sufficient to
come up to it. Therefore it is said, "To him who has what is most noble, all
the dignities of a state are as nothing; to him who has what is the greatest
riches, all the wealth of a state is as nothing; to him who has all that he
could wish, fame and praise are as nothing." It is thus that the Tao admits
of no substitute.'
3:
Pei-män Keng asked Hwang-Ti, saying,
'You were celebrating, O Ti, a performance
of the music of the Hsien-khih, in the open country near the Thung-thing
lake. When I heard the first part of it, I was afraid; the next made me
weary; and the last perplexed me. I became agitated and unable to speak, and
lost my self-possession.'
The Ti said,
'It was likely that it should so affect
you! It was performed with (the instruments of) men, and all attuned
according to (the influences of) Heaven. It proceeded according to (the
principles of) propriety and righteousness, and was pervaded by (the idea
of) the Grand Purity.
'The Perfect Music first had its response
in the affairs of men, and was conformed to the principles of Heaven; it
indicated the action of the five virtues, and corresponded to the
spontaneity (apparent in nature). After this it showed the blended
distinctions of the four seasons, and the grand harmony of all things; —the
succession of those seasons one after another, and the production of things
in their proper order. Now it swelled, and now it died away, its peaceful
and military strains clearly distinguished and given forth. Now it was
clear, and now rough, as if the contracting and expanding of the elemental
processes blended harmoniously (in its notes). Those notes then flowed away
in waves of light, till, as when the hibernating insects first begin to
move, I commanded the terrifying crash of thunder. Its end was marked by no
formal conclusion, and it began again without any prelude. It seemed to die
away, and then it burst into life; it came to a close, and then it rose
again. So it went on regularly and inexhaustibly, and without the
intervention of any pause:—it was this which made you afraid.
'In the second part (of the performance), I
made it describe the harmony of the Yin and Yang, and threw round it the
brilliance of the sun and moon. Its notes were now short and now long, now
soft and now hard. Their changes, however, were marked by an unbroken unity,
though not dominated by a fixed regularity. They filled every valley and
ravine; you might shut up every crevice, and guard your spirit (against
their entrance), yet there was nothing but gave admission to them. Yea,
those notes resounded slowly, and might have been pronounced high and clear.
Hence the shades of the dead kept in their obscurity; the sun and moon, and
all the stars of the zodiac, pursued their several courses. I made (my
instruments) leave off, when (the performance) came to an end, and their
(echoes) flowed on without stopping. You thought anxiously about it, and
were not able to understand it; you looked for it, and were not able to see
it; you pursued it, and were not able to reach it. All amazed, you stood in
the way all open around you, and then you leant against an old rotten
dryandra tree and hummed. The power of your eyes was exhausted by what you
wished to see; your strength failed in your desire to pursue it, while I
myself could not reach it. Your body was but so much empty vacancy while you
endeavoured to retain your self-possession:—it was that endeavour which made
you weary.
'In the last part (of the performance), I
employed notes which did not have that wearying effect. I blended them
together as at the command of spontaneity. Hence they came as if following
one another in confusion, like a clump of plants springing from one root, or
like the music of a forest produced by no visible form. They spread
themselves all around without leaving a trace (of their cause); and seemed
to issue from deep obscurity where there was no sound. Their movements came
from nowhere; their home was in the deep darkness; —conditions which some
would call death, and some life; some, the fruit, and some, (merely) the
flower. Those notes, moving and flowing on, separating and shifting, and not
following any regular sounds, the world might well have doubts about them,
and refer them to the judgement of a sage, for the sages understand the
nature of this music, and judge in accordance with the prescribed
(spontaneity). While the spring of that spontaneity has not been touched,
and yet the regulators of the five notes are all prepared; —this is what is
called the music of Heaven, delighting the mind without the use of words.
Hence it is said in the eulogy of the Lord of Piâo, "You listen for it, and
do not hear its sound; you look for it, and do not perceive its form; it
fills heaven and earth; it envelopes all within the universe." You wished to
hear it, but could not take it in; and therefore you were perplexed.
'I performed first the music calculated to
awe; and you were frightened as if by a ghostly visitation, I followed it
with that calculated to weary; and in your weariness you would have
withdrawn. I concluded with that calculated to perplex; and in your
perplexity you felt your stupidity. But that stupidity is akin to the Tao;
you may with it convey the Tao in your person, and have it (ever) with you.'
4:
When Confucius was travelling in the west in Wei, Yen Yü an asked the
music-master Kin, saying,
'How is it, do you think, with the course
of the Master?'
The music-master replied,
'Alas! it is all over with your Master!'
'How so?' asked Yen Yüan; and the other
said,
'Before the grass-dogs are set forth (at
the sacrifice), they are deposited in a box or basket, and wrapt up with
elegantly embroidered cloths, while the representative of the dead and the
officer of prayer prepare themselves by fasting to present them. After they
have been set forth, however, passers-by trample on their heads and backs,
and the grass-cutters take and burn them in cooking. That is all they are
good for. If one should again take them, replace them in the box or basket,
wrap them up with embroidered cloths, and then in rambling, or abiding at
the spot, should go to sleep under them, if he do not get (evil) dreams, he
is sure to be often troubled with the nightmare. Now here is your Master in
the same way taking the grass-dogs, presented by the ancient kings, and
leading his disciples to wander or abide and sleep under them. Owing to
this, the tree (beneath which they were practising ceremonies) in Sung was
cut down; he was obliged to leave Wei; he was reduced to extremities in
Shang and Kâu:—were not those experiences like having (evil) dreams? He was
kept in a state of siege between Khän and Zhâi, so that for seven days he
had no cooked food to eat, and was in a situation between life and
death:—were not those experiences like the nightmare?
'If you are travelling by water, your best
plan is to use a boat; if by land, a carriage. Take a boat, which will go
(easily) along on the water, and try to push it along on the land, and all
your lifetime it will not go so much as a fathom or two:—are not ancient
time and the present time like the water and the dry land? and are not Kâu
and Lu like the boat and the carriage? To seek now to practise (the old ways
of) Kâu in Lu is like pushing along a boat on the dry land. It is only a
toilsome labour, and has no success; he who does so is sure to meet with
calamity. He has not learned that in handing down the arts (of one time) he
is sure to be reduced to extremity in endeavouring to adapt them to the
conditions (of another). 'And have you not seen the working of a shadoof?
When (the rope of) it is pulled, it bends down; and when it is let go, it
rises up. It is pulled by a man, and does not pull the man; and so, whether
it bends down or rises up, it commits no offence against the man. In the
same way the rules of propriety, righteousness, laws, and measures of the
three Hwangs and five Tis derived their excellence, not from their being the
same as those of the present day, but from their (aptitude for) government.
We may compare them to haws, pears, oranges, and pummeloes, which are
different in flavour, but all suitable to be eaten. Just so it is that the
rules of propriety, righteousness, laws, and measures, change according to
the time.
'If now you take a monkey, and dress it in
the robes of the duke of Kâu, it will bite and tear them, and will not be
satisfied till it has got rid of them altogether. And if you look at the
difference between antiquity and the present time it is as great as that
between the monkey and the duke of Kâu. In the same way, when Hsi Shih was
troubled in mind, she would knit her brows and frown on all in her
neighbourhood. An ugly woman of the neighbourhood, seeing and admiring her
beauty, went home, and also laying her hands on her heart proceeded to stare
and frown on all around her. When the rich people of the village saw her,
they shut fast their doors and would not go out; when the poor people saw
her, they took their wives and children and ran away from her. The woman
knew how to admire the frowning beauty, but she did not know how it was that
she, though frowning, was beautiful. Alas! it is indeed all over with your
Master!'
5:
When Confucius was in his fifty-first year, he had not heard of the Tao,
and went south to Phei to see Lao Tan, who said to him,
'You have come, Sir; have you? I have heard
that you are the wisest man of the North; have you also got the Tao?'
'Not yet,' was the reply; and the other
went on,
'How have you sought it?'
Confucius said,
'I sought it in measures and numbers, and
after five years I had not got it.'
'And how then did you seek it?'
'I sought it in the Yin and Yang, and after
twelve years I have not found it.'
Master Lao said,
'Just so! If the Tao could be presented (to
another), men would all present it to their rulers; if it could be served up
(to others), men would all serve it up to their parents; if it could be told
(to others), men would all tell it to their brothers; if it could be given
to others, men would all give it to their sons and grandsons. The reason why
it cannot be transmitted is no other but this,—that if, within, there be not
the presiding principle, it will not remain there, and if, outwardly, there
be not the correct obedience, it will not be carried out. When that which is
given out from the mind (in possession of it) is not received by the mind
without, the sage will not give it out; and when, entering in from without,
there is no power in the receiving mind to entertain it, the sage will not
permit it to lie hid there. Fame is a possession common to all; we should
not seek to have much of it. Benevolence and righteousness were as the
lodging-houses of the former kings; we should only rest in them for a night,
and not occupy them for long. If men see us doing so, they will have much to
say against us.
'The perfect men of old trod the path of
benevolence as a path which they borrowed for the occasion, and dwelt in
Righteousness as in a lodging which they used for a night. Thus they rambled
in the vacancy of Untroubled Ease, found their food in the fields of
Indifference, and stood in the gardens which they had not borrowed.
Untroubled Ease requires the doing of nothing; Indifference is easily
supplied with nourishment; not borrowing needs no outlay. The ancients
called this the Enjoyment that Collects the True.
'Those who think that wealth is the proper
thing for them cannot give up their revenues; those who seek distinction
cannot give up the thought of fame; those who cleave to power cannot give
the handle of it to others. While they hold their grasp of those things,
they are afraid (of losing them). When they let them go, they are grieved;
and they will not look at a single example, from which they might perceive
the (folly) of their restless pursuits:-such men are under the doom of
Heaven.
'Hatred and kindness; taking and giving;
reproof and instruction; death and life:—these eight things are instruments
of rectification, but only those are able to use them who do not obstinately
refuse to comply with their great changes. Hence it is said, "Correction is
Rectification." When the minds of some do not acknowledge this, it is
because the gate of Heaven (in them) has not been opened.'
6:
At an interview with Lao Tan, Confucius spoke to him of benevolence and
righteousness. Lao Tan said,
'If you winnow chaff, and the dust gets
into your eyes, then the places of heaven and earth and of the four cardinal
points are all changed to you. If musquitoes or gadflies puncture your skin,
it will keep you all the night from sleeping. But this painful iteration of
benevolence and righteousness excites my mind and produces in it the
greatest confusion. If you, Sir, would cause men not to lose their natural
simplicity, and if you would also imitate the wind in its (unconstrained)
movements, and stand forth in all the natural attributes belonging to
you!—why must you use so much energy, and carry a great drum to seek for the
son whom you have lost? The snow-goose does not bathe every day to make
itself white, nor the crow blacken itself every day to make itself black.
The natural simplicity of their black and white does not afford any ground
for controversy; and the fame and praise which men like to contemplate do
not make them greater than they naturally are. When the springs (supplying
the pools) are dried up, the fishes huddle together on the dry land. Than
that they should moisten one another there by their gasping, and keep one
another wet by their milt, it would be better for them to forget one another
in the rivers and lakes.'
From this interview with Lao Tan, Confucius
returned home, and for three days did not speak. His disciples (then) asked
him, saying,
'Master, you have seen Lao Tan; in what way
might you admonish and correct him?'
Confucius said,
'In him (I may say) that I have now seen
the dragon. The dragon coils itself up, and there is its body; it unfolds
itself and becomes the dragon complete. It rides on the cloudy air, and is
nourished by the Yin and Yang. I kept my mouth open, and was unable to shut
it; —how could I admonish and correct Lao Tan?'
7:
Tzu-kung said,
'So then, can (this) man indeed sit still
as a representative of the dead, and then appear as the dragon? Can his
voice resound as thunder, when he is profoundly still? Can he exhibit
himself in his movements like heaven and earth? May I, Zhze, also get to see
him?'
Accordingly with a message from Confucius
he went to see Lao Tan.
Lao Tan was then about to answer (his
salutation) haughtily in the hall, but he said in a low voice,
'My years have rolled on and are passing
away, what do you, Sir, wish to admonish me about?'
Tzu-kung replied,
'The Three Kings and Five Tis ruled the
world not in the same way, but the fame that has accrued to them is the
same. How is it that you alone consider that they were not sages?'
'Come forward a little, my son. Why do you
say that (their government) was not the same?'
'Yao,' was the reply, 'gave the kingdom to
Shun, and Shun gave it to Yü. Yü had recourse to his strength, and Tang to
the force of arms. King Wän was obedient to Kâu (-hsin), and did not dare to
rebel; king Wu rebelled against Kâu, and would not submit to him. And I say
that their methods were not the same.'
Lao Tan said,
'Come a little more forward, my son, and I
will tell you how the Three Hwangs and the Five Tis ruled the world.
Hwang-Ti ruled it, so as to make the minds of the people all conformed to
the One (simplicity). If the parents of one of them died, and he did not
wail, no one blamed him. Yao ruled it so as to cause the hearts of the
people to cherish relative affection. If any, however, made the observances
on the death of other members of their kindred less than those for their
parents, no one blamed them. Shun ruled it, so as to produce a feeling of
rivalry in the minds of the people. Their wives gave birth to their children
in the tenth month of their pregnancy, but those children could speak at
five months; and before they were three years old, they began to call people
by their surnames and names. Then it was that men began to die prematurely.
Yü ruled it, so as to cause the minds of the people to become changed. Men's
minds became scheming, and they used their weapons as if they might
legitimately do so, (saying that they were) killing thieves and not killing
other men. The people formed themselves into different combinations; —so it
was throughout the kingdom. Everywhere there was great consternation, and
then arose the Literati and (the followers of) Mo (Ti). From them came first
the doctrine of the relationships (of society); and what can be said of the
now prevailing customs (in the marrying of) wives and daughters? I tell you
that the rule of the Three Kings and Five Tis may be called by that name,
but nothing can be greater than the disorder which it produced. The wisdom
of the Three Kings was opposed to the brightness of the sun and moon above,
contrary to the exquisite purity of the hills and streams below, and
subversive of the beneficent gifts of the four seasons between. Their wisdom
has been more fatal than the sting of a scorpion or the bite of a dangerous
beast. Unable to rest in the true attributes of their nature and
constitution, they still regarded themselves as sages:—was it not a thing to
be ashamed of? But they were shameless.'
Tzu-kung stood quite disconcerted and ill
at ease.
8:
Confucius said to Lao Tan,
'I have occupied myself with the Shih, the
Shu, the Li, the Yo, the Yi, and the Khun Khiu, those six Books, for what I
myself consider a long time, and am thoroughly acquainted with their
contents. With seventy-two rulers, all offenders against the right, I have
discoursed about the ways of the former kings, and set forth the examples of
(the dukes of Kâu and Shâo; and not one of them has adopted (my views) and
put them in practice:—how very difficult it is to prevail on such men, and
to make clear the path to be pursued!'
Master Lao replied,
'It is fortunate that you have not met with
a ruler fitted to rule the age. Those six writings are a description of the
vestiges left by the former kings, but do not tell how they made such
vestiges; and what you, Sir, speak about are still only the vestiges. But
vestiges are the prints left by the shoes; —are they the shoes that produced
them? A pair of white herons look at each other with pupils that do not
move, and impregnation takes place; the male insect emits its buzzing sound
in the air above, and the female responds from the air below, and
impregnation takes place; the creatures called lêi are both male and female,
and each individual breeds of itself. The nature cannot be altered; the
conferred constitution cannot be changed; the march of the seasons cannot be
arrested; the Tao cannot be stopped. If you get the Tao, there is no effect
that cannot be produced; if you miss it, there is no effect that can.'
Confucius (after this) did not go out, till
at the end of three months he went again to see Lao Tan, and said,
'I have got it. Ravens produce their young
by hatching; fishes by the communication of their milt; the small-waisted
wasp by transformation; when a younger brother comes, the elder weeps. Long
is it that I have not played my part in harmony with these processes of
transformation. But as I did not play my part in harmony with such
transformation, how could I transform men?'
Master Lao said,
'You will do. Khiu, you have found the
Tao.'
1:
Ingrained ideas and a high estimate of their own conduct; leaving the
world, and pursuing uncommon ways; talking loftily and in resentful
disparagement of others; —all this is simply symptomatic of arrogance. This
is what scholars who betake themselves to the hills and valleys, who are
always blaming the world, and who stand aloof like withered trees, or throw
themselves into deep pools, are fond of.
Discoursing of benevolence, righteousness,
loyalty, and good faith; being humble and frugal, self-forgetful and
courteous; —all this is simply symptomatic of (self-)cultivation. This is
what scholars who wish to tranquillise the world, teachers and instructors,
men who pursue their studies at home and abroad, are fond of.
Discoursing of their great merit and making
a great name for themselves; insisting on the ceremonies between ruler and
minister; and rectifying the relations between high and low; —all this shows
their one object to be the promotion of government. This is what officers of
the court, men who honour their lord and would strengthen the state and who
would do their utmost to incorporate other states with their own, are fond
of
Resorting to marshes and lakes; dwelling in
solitary places; occupying themselves with angling and living at ease; —all
this shows their one object to be to do nothing. This is what gentlemen of
the rivers and seas, men who avoid the society of the world and desire to
live at leisure, are fond of.
Blowing and breathing with open mouth;
inhaling and exhaling the breath; expelling the old breath and taking in
new; passing their time like the (dormant) bear, and stretching and twisting
(the neck) like a bird; —all this simply shows the desire for longevity.
This is what the scholars who manipulate their breath, and the men who
nourish the body and wish to live as long as Päng Zu, are fond of.
As to those who have a lofty character
without any ingrained ideas; who pursue the path of self-cultivation without
benevolence and righteousness; who succeed in government without great
services or fame; who enjoy their ease without resorting to the rivers and
seas; who attain to longevity without the management (of the breath); who
forget all things and yet possess all things; whose placidity is unlimited,
while all things to be valued attend them:—such men pursue the way of heaven
and earth, and display the characteristics of the sages. Hence it is said,
'Placidity, indifference, silence,
quietude, absolute vacancy, and non-action:—these are the qualities which
maintain the level of heaven and earth and are the substance of the Tao and
its characteristics.'
2:
In accordance with this it is said,
'The sage is entirely restful, and so (his
mind) is evenly balanced and at ease. This even balance and ease appears in
his placidity and indifference. In this state of even balance and ease, of
placidity and indifference, anxieties and evils do not find access to him,
no depraving influence can take him by surprise; his virtue is complete, and
his spirit continues unimpaired.'
Therefore it is (also) said,
'The life of the sage is (like) the action
of Heaven; and his death is the transformation common to (all) things. In
his stillness his virtue is the same as that of the Yin, and in movement his
diffusiveness is like that of the Yang. He does not take the initiative in
producing either happiness or calamity. He responds to the influence acting
on him, and moves as he feels the pressure. He rises to act only when he is
obliged to do so. He discards wisdom and the memories of the past; he
follows the lines of his Heaven (-given nature); and therefore he suffers no
calamity from Heaven, no involvement from things, no blame from men, and no
reproof from the spirits of the dead. His life seems to float along; his
death seems to be a resting. He does not indulge any anxious doubts; he does
not lay plans beforehand. His light is without display; his good faith is
without previous arrangement. His sleep is untroubled by dreams; his waking
is followed by no sorrows. His spirit is guileless and pure; his soul is not
subject to weariness. Vacant and without self-assertion, placid and
indifferent, he agrees with the virtue of Heaven.'
Therefore it is said (further),
'Sadness and pleasure show a depraving
element in the virtue (of those who feel them); joy and anger show some
error in their course; love and hatred show a failure of their virtue. Hence
for the mind to be free from sorrow and pleasure is the perfection of
virtue; to be of one mind that does not change is the perfection of
quietude; to be conscious of no opposition is the perfection of vacancy; to
have no intercourse with (external) things is the perfection of
indifference; and to have no rebellious dissatisfactions is the perfection
of purity.'
3:
Therefore it is said (still further),
'If the body be toiled, and does not rest,
it becomes worn out; if the spirit be used without cessation, it becomes
toiled; and when toiled, it becomes exhausted. It is the nature of water,
when free from admixture, to be clear, and, when not agitated, to be level;
while if obstructed and not allowed to flow, it cannot preserve its
clearness; —being an image of the virtue of Heaven.'
Hence it is said (once again),
'To be guileless and pure, and free from
all admixture; to be still and uniform, without undergoing any change; to be
indifferent and do nothing; to move and yet to act like Heaven:—this is the
way to nourish the spirit. Now he who possesses a sword made at Kan-yüeh
preserves it carefully in a box, and does not dare to use it; —it is
considered the perfection of valuable swords. But the human spirit goes
forth in all directions, flowing on without limit, reaching to heaven above,
and wreathing round the earth beneath. It transforms and nourishes all
things, and cannot be represented by any form. Its name is "the Divinity (in
man)." It is only the path of pure simplicity which guards and preserves the
Spirit. When this path is preserved and not lost, it becomes one with the
Spirit; and in this ethereal amalgamation, it acts in harmony with the
orderly operation of Heaven.'
There is the vulgar saying,
'The multitude of men consider gain to be
the most important thing; pure scholars, fame; those who are wise and able
value their ambition; the sage prizes essential purity.'
Therefore simplicity is the denomination of
that in which there is no admixture; purity of that in which the spirit is
not impaired. It is he who can embody simplicity and purity whom we call the
True Man.
1:
Those who would correct their nature by means of the vulgar learning,
seeking to restore it to its original condition, and those who would
regulate their desires by the vulgar [common] ways of thinking, seeking
thereby to carry their intelligence to perfection, must be pronounced to be
deluded and ignorant people. The ancients who regulated the Tao nourished
their faculty of knowledge by their placidity, and all through life
abstained from employing that faculty in action; —they must be pronounced to
have (thus also) nourished their placidity by their knowledge.
When the faculty of knowledge and the
placidity (thus) blend together, and they nourish each other, then from the
nature there come forth harmony and orderly method. The attributes (of the
Tao) constitute the harmony; the Tao (itself) secures the orderly method.
When the attributes appear in a universal practice of forbearance, we have
Benevolence; when the path is all marked by orderly method, we have
Righteousness; when the righteousness is clearly manifested, and (all)
things are regarded with affection, we have Leal-heartedness; when the
(heart's) core is thus (pure) and real, and carried back to its (proper)
qualities, we have Music; when this sincerity appears in all the range of
the capacity, and its demonstrations are in accordance with what is elegant,
we have Ceremony. If Ceremonies and Music are carried out in an imperfect
and one-sided manner, the world is thrown into confusion. When men would
rectify others, and their own virtue is beclouded, it is not sufficient to
extend itself to them. If an attempt be made so to extend it, they also will
lose their (proper) nature.
2:
The men of old, while the chaotic condition was yet undeveloped, shared
the placid tranquillity which belonged to the whole world. At that time the
Yin and Yang were harmonious and still; their resting and movement proceeded
without any disturbance; the four seasons had their definite times; not a
single thing received any injury, and no living being came to a premature
end. Men might be possessed of (the faculty of) knowledge, but they had no
occasion for its use. This was what is called the state of Perfect Unity. At
this time, there was no action on the part of any one, but a constant
manifestation of spontaneity.
This condition (of excellence) deteriorated
and decayed, till Sui-zän and Fu-hsi arose and commenced their
administration of the world; on which came a compliance (with their
methods), but the state of unity was lost. The condition going on to
deteriorate and decay, Shän Näng and Hwang-Ti arose, and took the
administration of the world, on which (the people) rested (in their
methods), but did not themselves comply with them. Still the deterioration
and decay continued till the lords of Tang and Yü began to administer the
world. These introduced the method of governing by transformation, resorting
to the stream (instead of to the spring), thus vitiating the purity and
destroying the simplicity (of the nature). They left the Tao, and
substituted the Good for it, and pursued the course of Haphazard Virtue.
After this they forsook their nature and followed (the promptings of) their
minds. One mind and another associated their knowledge, but were unable to
give rest to the world. Then they added to this knowledge (external and)
elegant forms, and went on to make these more and more numerous. The forms
extinguished the (primal) simplicity, till the mind was drowned by their
multiplicity. After this the people began to be perplexed and disordered,
and had no way by which they might return to their true nature, and bring
back their original condition.
3:
Looking at the subject from this point of view, we see how the world lost
the (proper) course, and how the course (which it took) only led it further
astray. The world and the Way, when they came together, being (thus) lost to
each other, how could the men of the Way make themselves conspicuous in the
world? and how could the world rise to an appreciation of the Way? Since the
Way had no means to make itself conspicuous in the world, and the world had
no means of rising to an appreciation of the Way, though sagely men might
not keep among the hills and forests, their virtue was hidden; —hidden, but
not because they themselves sought to hide it.
Those whom the ancients called 'Retired
Scholars' did not conceal their persons, and not allow themselves to be
seen; they did not shut up their words, and refuse to give utterance to
them; they did not hide away their knowledge, and refuse to bring it forth.
The conditions laid on them by the times were very much awry. If the
conditions of the times had allowed them to act in the world on a great
scale, they would have brought back the state of unity without any trace
being perceived (of how they did so), When those conditions shut them up
entirely from such action, they struck their roots deeper (in themselves),
were perfectly still and waited. It was thus that they preserved (the Way
in) their own persons.
4:
The ancients who preserved (the Way in) their own persons did not try by
sophistical reasonings to gloss over their knowledge; they did not seek to
embrace (everything in) the world in their knowledge, nor to comprehend all
the virtues in it. Solitary and trembling they remained where they were, and
sought the restoration of their nature. What had they to do with any further
action? The Way indeed is not to be pursued, nor (all) its characteristics
to be known on a small scale. A little knowledge is injurious to those
characteristics; small doings are injurious to the Way; —hence it is said,
'They simply rectified themselves.'
Complete enjoyment is what is meant by 'the
Attainment of the Aim.'
What was anciently called 'the Attainment
of the Aim' did not mean the getting of carriages and coronets; it simply
meant that nothing more was needed for their enjoyment. Now-a-days what is
called 'the Attainment of the Aim' means the getting of carriages and
coronets. But carriages and coronets belong to the body; they do not affect
the nature as it is constituted. When such things happen to come, it is but
for a time; being but for a time, their coming cannot be obstructed and
their going cannot be stopped. Therefore we should not because of carriages
and coronets indulge our aims, nor because of distress and straitness resort
to the vulgar (learning and thinking); the one of these conditions and the
other may equally conduce to our enjoyment, which is simply to be free from
anxiety. If now the departure of what is transient takes away one's
enjoyment, this view shows that what enjoyment it had given was worthless.
Hence it is said,
'They who lose themselves in their pursuit
of things, and lose their nature in their study of what is vulgar, must be
pronounced people who turn things upside down.'
1:
The time of the autumn floods was come, and the hundred streams were all
discharging themselves into the Ho. Its current was greatly swollen, so that
across its channel from bank to bank one could not distinguish an ox from a
horse. On this the (Spirit-) earl of the Ho laughed with delight, thinking
that all the beauty of the world was to be found in his charge. Along the
course of the river he walked east till he came to the North Sea, over which
he looked, with his face to the east, without being able to see where its
waters began. Then he began to turn his face round, looked across the
expanse, (as if he were) confronting Zo, and said with a sigh,
'What the vulgar saying expresses about him
who has learned a hundred points (of the Tao), and thinks that there is no
one equal to himself, was surely spoken of me. And moreover, I have heard
parties making little of the knowledge of Kung-ni and the righteousness of
Po-i, and at first I did not believe them. Now I behold the
all-but-boundless extent (of your realms). If I had not come to your gate, I
should have been in danger (of continuing in my ignorance), and been laughed
at for long in the schools of our great System.'
Zo, (the Spirit-lord) of the Northern Sea,
said,
'A frog in a well cannot be talked with
about the sea; —he is confined to the limits of his hole. An insect of the
summer cannot be talked with about ice; —it knows nothing beyond its own
season. A scholar of limited views cannot be talked with about the Tao; —he
is bound by the teaching (which he has received). Now you have come forth
from between your banks, and beheld the great sea. You have come to know
your own ignorance and inferiority, and are in the way of being fitted to be
talked with about great principles. Of all the waters under heaven there are
none so great as the sea. A myriad streams flow into it without ceasing, and
yet it is not filled; and afterwards it discharges them (also) without
ceasing, and yet it is not emptied. In spring and in autumn it undergoes no
change; it takes no notice of floods or of drought. Its superiority over
such streams even as the Kiang and the Ho cannot be told by measures or
numbers; and that I have never, notwithstanding this, made much of myself,
is because I compare my own bodily form with (the greatness of) heaven and
earth, and (remember that) I have received my breath from the Yin and Yang.
Between heaven and earth I am but as a small stone or a small tree on a
great hill. So long as I see myself to be thus small, how should I make much
of myself? I estimate all within the four seas, compared with the space
between heaven and earth, to be not so large as that occupied by a pile of
stones in a large marsh! I estimate our Middle States, compared with the
space between the four seas, to be smaller than a single little grain of
rice in a great granary! When we would set forth the number of things (in
existence), we speak of them as myriads; and man is only one of them. Men
occupy all the nine provinces; but of all whose life is maintained by
grain-food, wherever boats and carriages reach, men form only one portion.
Thus, compared with the myriads of things, they are not equal to a single
fine hair on the body of a horse. Within this range are comprehended all
(the territories) which the five Tis received in succession from one
another; all which the royal founders of the three dynasties contended for;
all which excited the anxiety of Benevolent men; and all which men in office
have toiled for. Po-i was accounted famous for declining (to share in its
government), and Kung-ni was accounted great because of the lessons which he
addressed to it. They acted as they did, making much of themselves; —therein
like you who a little time ago did so of yourself because of your (volume
of) water!'
2:
The earl of the Ho said,
'Well then, may I consider heaven and earth
as (the ideal of) what is great, and the point of a hair as that of what is
small?'
Zo of the Northern Sea replied,
'No. The (different) capacities of things
are illimitable; time never stops, (but is always moving on); man's lot is
ever changing; the end and the beginning of things never occur (twice) in
the same way. Therefore men of great wisdom, looking at things far off or
near at hand, do not think them insignificant for being small, nor much of
them for being great:—knowing how capacities differ illimitably. They appeal
with intelligence to things of ancient and recent occurrence, without being
troubled by the remoteness of the former, or standing on tiptoe to lay hold
of the latter:—knowing that time never stops in its course. They examine
with discrimination (cases of) fulness and of want, not overjoyed by
success, nor disheartened by failure:—knowing the inconstancy of man's lot.
They know the plain and quiet path (in which things proceed), therefore they
are not overjoyed to live, nor count it a calamity to die: the end and the
beginning of things never occurring (twice) in the same way.
'We must reckon that what men know is not
so much as what they do not know, and that the time since they were born is
not so long as that which elapsed before they were born. When they take that
which is most small and try to fill with it the dimensions of what is most
great, this leads to error and confusion, and they cannot attain their end.
Looking at the subject in this way, how can you know that the point of a
hair is sufficient to determine the minuteness of what is most small, or
that heaven and earth are sufficient to complete the dimensions of what is
most large?'
3:
The earl of the Ho said,
'The disputers of the world all say, "That
which is most minute has no bodily form; and that which is most great cannot
be encompassed; "—is this really the truth?'
Zo of the Northern Sea replied,
'When from the standpoint of what is small
we look at what is great, we do not take it all in; when from the standpoint
of what is great we look at what is small, we do not see it clearly. Now the
subtile essence is smallness in its extreme degree; and the vast mass is
greatness in its largest form. Different as they are, each has its
suitability,—according to their several conditions. But the subtile and the
gross both presuppose that they have a bodily form. Where there is no bodily
form, there is no longer a possibility of numerical division; where it is
not possible to encompass a mass, there is no longer a possibility of
numerical estimate. What can be discoursed about in words is the grossness
of things; what can be reached in idea is the subtilty of things. What
cannot be discoursed about in words, and what cannot be reached by nice
discrimination of thought, has nothing to do either with subtilty or
grossness.
'Therefore while the actions of the Great
Man are not directed to injure men, he does not plume himself on his
benevolence and kindness; while his movements are not made with a view to
gain, he does not consider the menials of a family as mean; while he does
not strive after property and wealth, he does not plume himself on declining
them; while he does not borrow the help of others to accomplish his affairs,
he does not plume himself on supporting himself by his own strength, nor
does he despise those who in their greed do what is mean; while he differs
in his conduct from the vulgar, he does not plume himself on being so
different from them; while it is his desire to follow the multitude, he does
not despise the glib-tongued flatterers. The rank and emoluments of the
world furnish no stimulus to him, nor does he reckon its punishments and
shame to be a disgrace. He knows that the right and the wrong can (often)
not be distinguished, and that what is small and what is great can (often)
not be defined. I have heard it said, "The Man of Tao does not become
distinguished; the greatest virtue is unsuccessful; the Great Man has no
thought of self; "—to so great a degree may the lot be restricted.'
4:
The earl of the Ho said,
'Whether the subject be what is external in
things, or what is internal, how do we come to make a distinction between
them as noble and mean, and as great or small?'
Zo of the Northern Sea replied,
'When we look at them in the light of the
Tao, they are neither noble nor mean. Looking at them in themselves, each
thinks itself noble, and despises others. Looking at them in the light of
common opinion, their being noble or mean does not depend on themselves.
Looking at them in their differences from one another, if we call those
great which are greater than others, there is nothing that is not great, and
in the same way there is nothing that is not small. We shall (thus) know
that heaven and earth is but (as) a grain of the smallest rice, and that the
point of a hair is (as) a mound or a mountain; —such is the view given of
them by their relative size. Looking at them from the services they render,
allowing to everything the service which it does, there is not one which is
not serviceable; and, extending the consideration to what it does not do,
there is not one which is not unserviceable. We know (for instance) that
East and West are opposed to each other, and yet that the one cannot be
without (suggesting the idea of) the other; —(thus) their share of mutual
service is determined. Looking at them with respect to their tendencies, if
we approve of what they approve, then there is no one who may not be
approved of; and, if we condemn what they condemn, there is no one who may
not be condemned. There are the cases of Yao and Kieh, each of whom approved
of his own course, and condemned the other; —such is the view arising from
the consideration of tendency and aim.
'Formerly Yao and Shun resigned (their
thrones), and yet each continued to be Ti; Kih-khwâi resigned (his
marquisate) which led to his ruin. Tang and Wu contended (for the
sovereignty), and each became king; the duke of Pâi contended (for Ku),
which led to his extinction. Looking at the subject from these examples of
striving by force and of resigning, and from the conduct of Yao (on the one
hand) and of Kieh (on the other), we see that there is a time for noble
acting, and a time for mean; —these characteristics are subject to no
regular rule.
5:
'A battering ram may be used against the wall of a city, but it cannot be
employed to stop up a hole; —the uses of implements are different. The
(horses) Khih-ki and Hwâ-liu could in one day gallop 1000 li, but for
catching rats they were not equal to a wild dog or a weasel; —the gifts of
creatures are different. The white horned owl collects its fleas in the
night-time, and can discern the point of a hair, but in bright day it stares
with its eyes and cannot see a mound or a hill; —the natures of creatures
are different.
'Hence the sayings, "Shall we not follow
and honour the right, and have nothing to do with the wrong? shall we not
follow and honour those who secure good government, and have nothing to do
with those who produce disorder?" show a want of acquaintance with the
principles of Heaven and Earth, and with the different qualities of things.
It is like following and honouring Heaven and taking no account of Earth; it
is like following and honouring the Yin and taking no account of the Yang.
It is clear that such a course cannot be pursued. Yet notwithstanding they
go on talking so:—if they are not stupid, they are visionaries. The Ti
sovereigns resigned their thrones to others in one way, and the rulers of
the three dynasties transmitted their thrones to their successors in
another. He who acts differently from the requirements of his time and
contrary to its custom is called an usurper; he who complies with the time
and follows the common practice is said to be righteous. Hold your peace, O
earl of the Ho. How should you know what constitutes being noble and being
mean, or who are the small and who the great?'
6:
The earl of the Ho said,
'Very well. But what am I to do? and what
am I not to do? How am I to be guided after all in regard to what I accept
or reject, and what I pursue or put away from me?'
Zo of the Northern Sea replied,
'From the standpoint of the Tao, what is
noble? and what is mean? These expressions are but the different extremes of
the average level. Do not keep pertinaciously to your own ideas, which put
you in such opposition to the Tao. What are few? and what are many? These
are denominations which we employ in thanking (donors) and dispensing gifts.
Do not study to be uniform in doing so; —it only shows how different you are
from the Tao. Be severe and strict, like the ruler of a state who does not
selfishly bestow his favours. Be scrupulous, yet gentle, like the tutelary
spirit of the land, when sacrifice is offered to him who does not bestow his
blessing selfishly. Be large-minded like space, whose four terminating
points are illimitable, and form no particular enclosures. Hold all things
in your love, favouring and supporting none specially. This is called being
without any local or partial regard; all things are equally regarded; there
is no long or short among them.
'There is no end or beginning to the Tao.
Things indeed die and are born, not reaching a perfect state which can be
relied on. Now there is emptiness, and now fulness; —they do not continue in
one form. The years cannot be reproduced; time cannot be arrested. Decay and
growth, fulness and emptiness, when they end, begin again. It is thus that
we describe the method of great righteousness, and discourse about the
principle pervading all things. The life of things is like the hurrying and
galloping along of a horse. With every movement there is a change; with
every moment there is an alteration. What should you be doing? what should
you not be doing? You have only to be allowing this course of natural
transformation to be going on.'
7:
The earl of the Ho said,
'What then is there so valuable in the
Tao?'
Zo of the Northern Sea replied,
'He who knows the Tao, is sure to be well
acquainted with the principles (that appear in the procedures of things).
Acquainted with (those) principles, he is sure to understand how to regulate
his conduct in all varying circumstances. Having that understanding, he will
not allow things to injure himself. Fire cannot burn him who is (so) perfect
in virtue, nor water drown him; neither cold nor heat can affect him
injuriously; neither bird nor beast can hurt him. This does not mean that he
is indifferent to these things; it means that he discriminates between where
he may safely rest and where he will be in peril; that he is tranquil
equally in calamity and happiness; that he is careful what he avoids and
what he approaches; —so that nothing can injure him. Hence it is said, "What
is heavenly is internal; what is human is external." The virtue (of man) is
in what is Heavenly. If you know the operation of what is Heavenly and what
is Human, you will have your root in what is Heavenly and your position in
Virtue. You will bend or stretch (only) after the (necessary) hesitation;
you will have returned to the essential, and may be pronounced to have
reached perfection.'
'What do you mean,' pursued the earl, 'by
the Heavenly, and by the Human?'
Zo replied,
'Oxen and horses have four feet; —that is
what I call their Heavenly (constitution). When horses' heads are haltered,
and the noses of oxen are pierced, that is what I call (the doing of) Man.
Hence it is said, "Do not by the Human (doing) extinguish the Heavenly
(constitution); do not for your (Human) purpose extinguish the appointment
(of Heaven); do not bury your (proper) fame in (such) a pursuit of it;
carefully guard (the Way) and do not lose it:—this is what I call reverting
to your True (Nature)."'
8:
The khwei [a sort of dragon with one foot, or a worm] desires to be like
the millipede; the millipede to be like the serpent; the serpent like the
wind; the wind to be like the eye; and the eye to be like the mind.
The khwei said to the millipede,
'With my one leg I hop about, and can
hardly manage to go along. Now you have a myriad feet which you can employ;
how is it that you are so abundantly furnished?'
The millipede said,
'It is not so. Have you not seen one
ejecting saliva? The largest portion of it is like a pearl, while the
smaller portions fall down like a shower of mist in innumerable drops. Now I
put in motion the springs set in me by Heaven, without knowing how I do so.'
The millipede said to the serpent,
'I go along by means of my multitude of
feet; and yet how is it that I do not go so fast as you who have no feet at
all?'
The serpent replied,
'How can the method of moving by the
springs set in us by Heaven be changed? How could I make use of feet?'
The serpent said to the wind,
'I get along by moving my backbone and
ribs, thus appearing to have some (bodily) means of progression. But now
you, Sir, rise with a blustering force in the North Sea, and go on in the
same way to the South Sea; —seemingly without any such means. How does it
take place?'
The wind said,
'Yes. With such a blustering force I rise
in the North Sea and go on to the: South Sea. But you can point to me, and
therein are superior to me, as you are also in treading on me. Yet
notwithstanding, it is only I who can break great trees, and blow down great
houses. Therefore he whom all that are small cannot overcome is a great
overcomer. But it is only he who is the sagely man that is the Great
Conqueror (of all).'
9:
When Confucius was travelling in Khwang, some people of Sung (once)
surrounded him (with a hostile intention) several ranks deep; but he kept
singing to his lute without stopping. Tzu-lu came in, and saw him, and said,
'How is it, Master, that you are so
pleased?'
Confucius said,
'Come here, and I will tell you. I have
tried to avoid being reduced to such a strait for a long time; and that I
have not escaped shows that it was so appointed for me. I have sought to
find a ruler that would employ me for a long time, and that I have not found
one, shows the character of the time. Under Yao and Shun there was no one in
the kingdom reduced to straits like mine; and it was not by their sagacity
that men succeeded as they did. Under Kieh and Kâu no (good and able man) in
the kingdom found his way to employment; and it was not for (want of)
sagacity that they failed to do so. It was simply owing to the times and
their character.
'People that do business on the water do
not shrink from meeting iguanodons and dragons; —that is the courage of
fishermen. Those who do business on land do not shrink from meeting
rhinoceroses and tigers; —that is the courage of hunters. When men see the
sharp weapons crossed before them, and look on death as going home; —that is
the courage of the determined soldier. When he knows that his strait is
determined for him, and that the employment of him by a ruler depends on the
character of the time, and then meeting with great distress is yet not
afraid; -that is the courage of the sagely man. Wait, my good Yu, and you
will see what there is determined for me in my lot.'
A little afterwards, the leader of the
armed men approached and took his leave, saying,
'We thought you were Yang Hu, and therefore
surrounded you. Now we see our mistake.'
(With this) he begged to take his leave,
and withdrew.
10:
Kung-sun Lung asked Mâu of Wei, saying,
'When I was young, I learned the teachings
of the former kings; and when I was grown up, I became proficient in the
practice of benevolence and righteousness. I brought together the views that
agreed and disagreed; I considered the questions about hardness and
whiteness; I set forth what was to be affirmed and what was not, and what
was allowable and what was not; I studied painfully the various schools of
thought, and made myself master of the reasonings of all their masters. I
thought that I had reached a good understanding of every subject; but now
that I have heard the words of Master Chuang, they throw me into a flutter
of surprise. I do not know whether it be that I do not come up to him in the
power of discussion, or that my knowledge is not equal to his. But now I do
not feel able to open my mouth, and venture to ask you what course I should
pursue.'
Kung Tzu Mâu leant forward on his stool,
drew a long breath, looked up to heaven, smiled, and said,
'Have you not heard of the frog of the
dilapidated well, and how it said to the turtle of the Eastern Sea, "How I
enjoy myself? I leap upon the parapet of this well. I enter, and having by
means of the projections formed by the fragments of the broken tiles of the
lining proceeded to the water, I draw my legs together, keep my chin up,
(and strike out). When I have got to the mud, I dive till my feet are lost
in it. Then turning round, I see that of the shrimps, crabs, and tadpoles
there is not one that can do like me. Moreover, when one has entire command
of all the water in the gully, and hesitates to go forward, it is the
greatest pleasure to enjoy one's self here in this dilapidated well; —why do
not you, Master, often come and enter, and see it for yourself? "The turtle
of the Eastern Sea (was then proceeding to go forward), but before he had
put in his left foot, he found his right knee caught and held fast. On this
he hesitated, drew back, and told (the frog) all about the sea, saying, "A
distance of a thousand li is not sufficient to express its extent, nor would
(a line of) eight thousand cubits be equal to sound its depth. In the time
of Yü, for nine years out of ten the flooded land (all drained into it), and
its water was not sensibly increased; and in the time of Tang for seven
years out of eight there was a drought, but the rocks on the shore (saw) no
diminution of the water because of it. Thus it is that no change is produced
in its waters by any cause operating for a short time or a long, and that
they do not advance nor recede for any addition or subtraction, whether
great or small; and this is the great pleasure afforded by the Eastern Sea."
When the frog of the dilapidated well heard this, he was amazed and
terror-struck, and lost himself in surprise.
'And moreover, when you, who have not
wisdom enough to know where the discussions about what is right and what is
wrong should end, still desire to see through the words of Master Chuang,
that is like employing a mosquito to carry a mountain on its back, or a
millipede to gallop as fast as the Ho runs; —tasks to which both the insects
are sure to be unequal. Still further, when you, who have not wisdom enough
to know the words employed in discussing very mysterious subjects, yet
hasten to show your sharpness of speech on any occasion that may occur, is
not this being like the frog of the dilapidated well?
'And that (Master Chuang) now plants his
foot on the Yellow Springs (below the earth), and anon rises to the height
of the Empyrean. Without any regard to south and north, with freedom he
launches out in every direction, and is lost in the unfathomable. Without
any regard to east and west, starting from what is abysmally obscure, he
comes back to what is grandly intelligible. (All the while), you, Sir, in
amazement, search for his views to examine them, and grope among them for
matter for discussion; —this is just like peeping at the heavens through a
tube, or aiming at the earth with an awl; are not both the implements too
small for the purpose? Go your ways, Sir.
'And have you not heard of the young
learners of Shâu-ling, and how they did in Han-tan? Before they had acquired
what they might have done in that capital, they had forgotten what they had
learned to do in their old city, and were marched back to it on their hands
and knees. If now you do not go away, you will forget your old acquirements,
and fail in your profession.'
Kung-sun Lung gaped on the speaker, and
could not shut his mouth, and his tongue clave to its roof. He slank away
and ran off.
11:
Master Chuang was (once) fishing in the river Phu, when the king of Ku
sent two great officers to him, with the message,
'I wish to trouble you with the charge of
all within my territories.'
Master Chuang kept on holding his rod
without looking round, and said,
'I have heard that in Ku there is a
spirit-like tortoise-shell, the wearer of which died 3000 years ago, and
which the king keeps, in his ancestral temple, in a hamper covered with a
cloth. Was it better for the tortoise to die, and leave its shell to be thus
honoured? Or would it have been better for it to live and keep on dragging
its tail through the mud?'
The two officers said,
'It would have been better for it to live
and draw its tail after it over the mud.'
'Go your ways. I will keep on drawing my
tail after me through the mud.'
12:
Master Hui being a minister of state in Liang, Master Chuang went to see
him. Some one had told Master Hui that Master Chuang was come with a wish to
supersede him in his office, on which he was afraid, and instituted a search
for the stranger all over the kingdom for three days and three nights.
(After this) Master Chuang went and saw him, and said,
'There is in the south a bird, called "the
Young Phoenix"; —do you know it? Starting from the South Sea, it flies to
the Northern; never resting but on the bignonia, never eating but the fruit
of the melia azederach, and never drinking but from the purest springs. An
owl, which had got a putrid rat, (once), when a phoenix went passing
overhead, looked up to it and gave an angry scream. Do you wish now, in your
possession of the kingdom of Liang, to frighten me with a similar scream?'
13:
Master Chuang and Master Hui were walking on the dam over the Hâo, when
the former said,
'These thryssas come out and play about at
their ease; —that is the enjoyment of fishes.'
The other said,
'You are not a fish; how do you know what
constitutes the enjoyment of fishes?'
Master Chuang rejoined,
'You are not I. How do you know that I do
not know what constitutes the enjoyment of fishes?'
Master Hui said,
'I am not you; and though indeed I do not
fully know you, you certainly are not a fish, and (the argument) is complete
against your knowing what constitutes the happiness of fishes.'
Master Chuang replied,
'Let us keep to your original question. You
said to me, "How do you know what constitutes the enjoyment of fishes?" You
knew that I knew it, and yet you put your question to me; —well, I know it
(from our enjoying ourselves together) over the Hâo.'
1:
Under the sky is perfect enjoyment to be found or not? Are there any who
can preserve themselves alive or not? If there be, what do they do? What do
they maintain? What do they avoid? What do they attend to? Where do they
resort to? Where do they keep from? What do they delight in? What do they
dislike?
What the world honours is riches,
dignities, longevity, and being deemed able. What it delights in is rest for
the body, rich flavours, fine garments, beautiful colours, and pleasant
music. What it looks down on are poverty and mean condition, short life and
being deemed feeble. What men consider bitter experiences are that their
bodies do not get rest and case, that their mouths do not get food of rich
flavour, that their persons are not finely clothed, that their eyes do not
see beautiful colours, and that their ears do not listen to pleasant music.
If they do not get these things, they are very sorrowful, and go on to be
troubled with fears. Their thoughts are all about the body; —are they not
silly?
Now the rich embitter their lives by their
incessant labours; they accumulate more wealth than they can use:—while they
act thus for the body, they make it external to themselves. Those who seek
for honours carry their pursuit of them from the day into the night, full of
anxiety about their methods whether they are skilful or not:—while they act
thus for the body they treat it as if it were indifferent to them. The birth
of man is at the same time the birth of his sorrow; and if he live long he
becomes more and more stupid, and the longer is his anxiety that he may not
die; how great is his bitterness!—while he thus acts for his body, it is for
a distant result. Meritorious officers are regarded by the world as good;
but (their goodness) is not sufficient to keep their persons alive. I do not
know whether the goodness ascribed to them be really good or really not
good. If indeed it be considered good, it is not sufficient to preserve
their persons alive; if it be deemed not good, it is sufficient to preserve
other men alive. Hence it is said,
'When faithful remonstrances are not
listened to, (the remonstrant) should sit still, let (his ruler) take his
course, and not strive with him.'
Therefore when Tzu-hsü strove with (his
ruler), he brought on himself the mutilation of his body. If he had not so
striven, he would not have acquired his fame:—was such (goodness) really
good or was it not?
As to what the common people now do, and
what they find their enjoyment in, I do not know whether the enjoyment be
really enjoyment or really not. I see them in their pursuit of it following
after all their aims as if with the determination of death, and as if they
could not stop in their course; but what they call enjoyment would not be so
to me, while yet I do not say that there is no enjoyment in it. Is there
indeed such enjoyment, or is there not? I consider doing nothing (to obtain
it) to be the great enjoyment', while ordinarily people consider it to be a
great evil. Hence it is said,
'Perfect enjoyment is to be without
enjoyment; the highest praise is to be without praise.'
The right and the wrong (on this point of
enjoyment) cannot indeed be determined according to (the view of) the world;
nevertheless, this doing nothing (to obtain it) may determine the right and
the wrong. Since perfect enjoyment is (held to be) the keeping the body
alive, it is only by this doing nothing that that end is likely to be
secured. Allow me to try and explain this (more fully):—Heaven does nothing,
and thence comes its serenity; Earth does nothing, and thence comes its
rest. By the union of these two inactivities, all things are produced. How
vast and imperceptible is the process!—they seem to come from nowhere! How
imperceptible and vast!—there is no visible image of it! All things in all
their variety grow from this Inaction. Hence it is said,
'Heaven and Earth do nothing, and yet there
is nothing that they do not do.'
But what man is there that can attain to
this inaction?
2:
When Master Chuang's wife died, Master Hui went to condole with him, and,
finding him squatted on the ground, drumming on the basin, and singing, said
to him,
'When a wife has lived with her husband,
and brought up children, and then dies in her old age, not to wail for her
is enough. When you go on to drum on this basin and sing, is it not an
excessive (and strange) demonstration?'
Master Chuang replied,
'It is not so. When she first died, was it
possible for me to be singular and not affected by the event? But I
reflected on the commencement of her being. She had not yet been born to
life; not only had she no life, but she had no bodily form; not only bad she
no bodily form, but she had no breath. During the intermingling of the waste
and dark chaos, there ensued a change, and there was breath; another change,
and there was the bodily form; another change, and there came birth and
life. There is now a change again, and she is dead. The relation between
these things is like the procession of the four seasons from spring to
autumn, from winter to summer. There now she lies with her face up, sleeping
in the Great Chamber; and if I were to fall sobbing and going on to wail for
her, I should think that I did not understand what was appointed (for all).
I therefore restrained myself!'
3:
Mr. Deformed and Mr. One-foot were looking at the mound-graves of the
departed in the wild of Kun-lun, where Hwang-Ti had entered into his rest.
Suddenly a tumour began to grow on their left wrists, which made them look
distressed as if they disliked it. The former said to the other,
'Do you dread it?'
'No,' replied he, 'why should I dread it?
Life is a borrowed thing. The living frame thus borrowed is but so much
dust. Life and death are like day and night. And you and I were looking at
(the graves of) those who have undergone their change. If my change is
coming to me, why should I dislike it?'
4:
When Master Chuang went to Ku, he saw an empty skull, bleached indeed,
but still retaining its shape. Tapping it with his horse-switch, he asked
it, saying,
'Did you, Sir, in your greed of life, fail
in the lessons of reason, and come to this? Or did you do so, in the service
of a perishing state, by the punishment of the axe? Or was it through your
evil conduct, reflecting disgrace on your parents and on your wife and
children? Or was it through your hard endurances of cold and hunger? Or was
it that you had completed your term of life?'
Having given expression to these questions,
he took up the skull, and made a pillow of it when he went to sleep. At
midnight the skull appeared to him in a dream, and said,
'What you said to me was after the fashion
of an orator. All your words were about the entanglements of men in their
lifetime. There are none of those things after death. Would you like to hear
me, Sir, tell you about death?'
'I should,' said Master Chuang, and the
skull resumed:
'In death there are not (the distinctions
of) ruler above and minister below. There are none of the phenomena of the
four seasons. Tranquil and at ease, our years are those of heaven and earth.
No king in his court has greater enjoyment than we have.'
Master Chuang did not believe it, and said,
'If I could get the Ruler of our Destiny to
restore your body to life with its bones and flesh and skin, and to give you
back your father and mother, your wife and children, and all your village
acquaintances, would you wish me to do so?'
The skull stared fixedly at him, knitted
its brows, and said,
'How should I cast away the enjoyment of my
royal court, and undertake again the toils of life among mankind?'
5:
When Yen Yü an went eastwards to Khi, Confucius wore a look of sorrow.
Tzu-kung left his mat, and asked him, saying,
'Your humble disciple ventures to ask how
it is that the going eastwards of Hui to Khi has given you such a look of
sadness.'
Confucius said,
'Your question is good. Formerly Master
Chuang used words of which I very much approve. He said, "A small bag cannot
be made to contain what is large; a short rope cannot be used to draw water
from a deep well." So it is, and man's appointed lot is definitely
determined, and his body is adapted for definite ends, so that neither the
one nor the other can be augmented or diminished. I am afraid that Hui will
talk with the marquis of Khi about the ways of Hwang-Ti, Yao, and Shun, and
go on to relate the words of Sui-zän and Shän Näng. The marquis will seek
(for the correspondence of what he is told) in himself; and, not finding it
there, will suspect the speaker; and that speaker, being suspected, will be
put to death. And have you not heard this?—Formerly a sea-bird alighted in
the suburban country of Lu. The marquis went out to meet it, (brought it) to
the ancestral temple, and prepared to banquet it there. The Kiu-shâo was
performed to afford it music; an ox, a sheep, and a pig were killed to
supply the food. The bird, however, looked at everything with dim eyes, and
was very sad. It did not venture to eat a single bit of flesh, nor to drink
a single cupful; and in three days it died.
'The marquis was trying to nourish the bird
with what he used for himself, and not with the nourishment proper for a
bird. They who would nourish birds as they ought to be nourished should let
them perch in the deep forests, or roam over sandy plains; float on the
rivers and lakes; feed on the eels and small fish; wing their flight in
regular order and then stop; and be free and at ease in their
resting-places. It was a distress to that bird to hear men speak; what did
it care for all the noise and hubbub made about it? If the music of the
Kiu-shâo or the Hsien-khih were performed in the wild of the Thung-thing
lake, birds would fly away, and beasts would run off when they heard it, and
fishes would dive down to the bottom of the water; while men, when they hear
it, would come all round together, and look on. Fishes live and men die in
the water. They are different in constitution, and therefore differ in their
likes and dislikes. Hence it was that the ancient sages did not require
(from all) the same ability, nor demand the same performances. They gave
names according to the reality of what was done, and gave their approbation
where it was specially suitable. This was what was called the method of
universal adaptation and of sure success.'
6:
Master Lieh (once) upon a journey took a meal by the road-side. There he
saw a skull a hundred years old, and, pulling away the bush (under which it
lay), he pointed to it and said,
'It is only you and I who know that you
are not dead, and that (aforetime) you were not alive. Do you indeed
really find (in death) the nourishment (which you like)? Do I really find
(in life my proper) enjoyment? The seeds (of things) are multitudinous and
minute. On the surface of the water they form a membranous texture. When
they reach to where the land and water join they become the (lichens which
we call the) clothes of frogs and oysters. Coming to life on mounds and
heights, they become the plantain; and, receiving manure, appear as crows'
feet. The roots of the crow's foot become grubs, and its leaves,
butterflies. This butterfly, known by the name of hsü, is changed into an
insect, and comes to life under a furnace. Then it has the form of a moth,
and is named the khü-to. The khü-to after a thousand days becomes a bird,
called the kan-yü-ku. Its saliva becomes the sze-mi, and this again the
shih-hsi (or pickle-eater). The i-lo is produced from the pickle-eater; the
hwang-kwang from the kiu-yu; the mâu-zui from the pu-khwan. The ying-hsi
uniting with a bamboo, which has long ceased to put forth sprouts, produces
the khing-ning; the khing-ning, the panther; the panther, the horse; and the
horse, the man. Man then again enters into the great Machinery (of
Evolution), from which all things come forth (at birth), and which they
enter at death.'
1:
He who understands the conditions of life does not strive after what is
of no use to life; and he who understands the conditions of Destiny does not
strive after what is beyond the reach of knowledge. In nourishing the body
it is necessary to have beforehand the things (appropriate to its support);
but there are cases where there is a superabundance of such things, and yet
the body is not nourished'. In order to have life it is necessary that it do
not have left the body; but there are cases when the body has not been left
by it, and yet the life has perished.
When life comes, it cannot be declined;
when it goes, it cannot be detained. Alas! the men of the world think that
to nourish the body is sufficient to preserve life; and when such
nourishment is not sufficient to preserve the life, what can be done in the
world that will be sufficient? Though (all that men can do) will be
insufficient, yet there are things which they feel they ought to do, and
they do not try to avoid doing them. For those who wish to avoid caring for
the body, their best plan is to abandon the world. Abandoning the world,
they are free from its entanglements. Free from its entanglements, their
(minds) are correct and their (temperament) is equable. Thus correct and
equable, they succeed in securing a renewal of life, as some have done'. In
securing a renewal of life, they are not far from the True (Secret of their
being). But how is it sufficient to abandon worldly affairs? and how is it
sufficient to forget the (business of) life? Through the renouncing of
(worldly) affairs, the body has no more toil; through forgetting the
(business of) life, the vital power suffers no diminution. When the body is
completed and the vital power is restored (to its original vigour), the man
is one with Heaven. Heaven and Earth are the father and mother of all
things. It is by their union that the body is formed; it is by their
separation that a (new) beginning is brought about. When the body and vital
power suffer no diminution, we have what may be called the transference of
power. From the vital force there comes another more vital, and man returns
to be the assistant of Heaven.
2:
My master Master Lieh asked Yin, (the warden) of the gate, saying,
'The perfect man walks under water without
encountering any obstruction, treads on fire without being burned, and walks
on high above all things without any fear; let me ask how he attains to do
this?'
The warden Yin replied,
'It is by his keeping of the pure breath
(of life); it is not to be described as an achievement of his skill or
daring. Sit down, and I will explain it to you. Whatever has form,
semblance, sound, and colour is a thing; how can one thing come to be
different from another? But it is not competent for any of these things to
reach to what preceded them all; —they are but (form and) visibility. But
(the perfect man) attains to be (as it were) without form, and beyond the
capability of being transformed. Now when one attains to this and carries it
out to the highest degree, how can other things come into his way to stop
him? He will occupy the place assigned to him without going beyond it, and
lie concealed in the clue which has no end. He will study with delight the
process which gives their beginning and ending to all things. By gathering
his nature into a unity, by nourishing his vital power, by concentrating his
virtue, lie will penetrate to the making of things. In this condition, with
his heavenly constitution kept entire, and with no crevice in his spirit,
how can things enter (and disturb his serenity)?
'Take the case of a drunken man falling
from his carriage; —though he may suffer injury, he will not die. His bones
and joints are the same as those of other men, but the injury which he
receives is different:—his spirit is entire. He knew nothing about his
getting into the carriage, and knew nothing about his falling from it. The
thought of death or life, or of any alarm or affright, does not enter his
breast; and therefore he encounters danger without any shrinking from it.
Completely under the influence of the liquor he has drunk, it is thus with
him; —how much more would it be so, if he were under the influence of his
Heavenly constitution! The sagely man is kept hid in his Heavenly
constitution, and therefore nothing can injure him.
'A man in the pursuit of vengeance would
not break the (sword) Mo-yê or Yü-kiang (which had done the deed); nor would
one, however easily made wrathful, wreak his resentment on the fallen brick.
In this way all under heaven there would be peace, without the disorder of
assaults and fighting, without the punishments of death and slaughter:—such
would be the issue of the course (which I have described). If the
disposition that is of human origin be not developed, but that which is the
gift of Heaven, the development of the latter will produce goodness, while
that of the former would produce hurt. If the latter were not wearied of,
and the former not slighted, the people would be brought nearly to their
True nature.'
3:
When Kung-ni was on his way to Ku, as he issued from a forest, he saw a
hunchback receiving cicadas (on the point of a rod), as if he were picking
them up with his hand.
'You are clever!' said he to the man. 'Is
there any method in it?'
The hunchback replied,
'There is. For five or six months, I
practised with two pellets, till they never fell down, and then I only
failed with a small fraction of the cicadas (which I tried to catch). Having
succeeded in the same way with three (pellets), I missed only one cicada in
ten. Having succeeded with five, I caught the cicadas as if I were gathering
them. My body is to me no more than the stump of a broken trunk, and my
shoulder no more than the branch of a rotten tree. Great as heaven and earth
are, and multitudinous as things are, I take no notice of them, but only of
the wings of my cicadas; neither turning nor inclining to one side. I would
not for them all exchange the wings of my cicadas; —how should I not succeed
in taking them?'
Confucius looked round, and said to his
disciples,
'Where the will is not diverted from its
object, the spirit is concentrated; "—this might have been spoken of this
hunchback gentleman.'
4:
Yen Yü an asked Kung-ni, saying,
'When 1 was crossing the gulf of Khang-shän,
the ferryman handled the boat like a spirit. I asked him whether such
management of a boat could be learned, and he replied, "It may. Good
swimmers can learn it quickly; but as for divers, without having seen a
boat, they can manage it at once." He did not directly tell me what I asked;
—I venture to ask you what he meant.'
Kung-ni replied,
'Good swimmers acquire the ability quickly;
—they forget the water (and its dangers). As to those who are able to dive,
and without having seen a boat are able to manage it at once, they look on
the watery gulf as if it were a hill-side, and the upsetting of a boat as
the going back of a carriage. Such upsettings and goings back have occurred
before them multitudes of times, and have not seriously affected their
minds. Wherever they go, they feel at ease on their occurrence.
'He who is contending for a piece of
earthenware puts forth all his skill. If the prize be a buckle of brass, he
shoots timorously; if it be for an article of gold, he shoots as if he were
blind. The skill of the archer is the same in all the cases; but (in the two
latter cases) he is under the influence of solicitude, and looks on the
external prize as most important. All who attach importance to what is
external show stupidity in themselves.'
5:
Thien Khâi-kih was having an interview with duke Wei of Kâu, who said to
him,
'I have heard that (your master) Ku Hsin
has studied the subject of Life. What have you, good Sir, heard from him
about it in your intercourse with him?'
Thien Khâi-kih replied,
'In my waiting on him in the courtyard with
my broom, what should I have heard from my master?'
Duke Wei said,
'Do not put the question off, Mr. Thien; I
wish to hear what you have to say.'
Khâi-kih then replied,
'I have heard my master say that they who
skilfully nourish their life are like shepherds, who whip up the sheep that
they see lagging behind.'
'What did he mean?' asked the duke. The
reply was,
'In Lu there was a Shan Pâo, who lived
among the rocks, and drank only water. He would not share with the people in
their toils and the benefits springing from them; and though he was now in
his seventieth year, he had still the complexion of a child. Unfortunately
he encountered a hungry tiger, which killed and ate him. There was also a
Kang Î, who hung up a screen at his lofty door, and to whom all the people
hurried (to pay their respects). In his fortieth year, he fell ill of a
fever and died. (Of these two men), Pho nourished his inner man, and a tiger
ate his outer; while I nourished his outer man, and disease attacked his
inner. Both of them neglected whipping up their lagging sheep.'
Kung-ni said,
'A man should not retire and hide himself;
he should not push forward and display himself; he should be like the
decayed tree which stands in the centre of the ground. Where these three
conditions are fulfilled, the name will reach its greatest height. When
people fear the dangers of a path, if one man in ten be killed, then fathers
and sons, elder brothers and younger, warn one another that they must not go
out on a journey without a large number of retainers; —and is it not a mark
of wisdom to do so? But there are dangers which men incur on the mats of
their beds, and in eating and drinking; and when no warning is given against
them; —is it not a mark of error?'
6:
The officer of Prayer in his dark and square-cut robes goes to the
pig-pen, and thus counsels the pigs,
'Why should you shrink from dying? I will
for three months feed you on grain. Then for ten days I will fast, and keep
vigil for three days, after which I will put down the mats of white grass,
and lay your shoulders and rumps on the carved stand; —will not this suit
you?'
If he had spoken from the standpoint of the
pigs, he would have said,
'The better plan will be to feed us with
our bran and chaff, and leave us in our pen.'
When consulting for himself, he preferred
to enjoy, while he lived, his carriage and cap of office, and after death to
be borne to the grave on the ornamented carriage, with the canopy over his
coffin. Consulting for the pigs, he did not think of these things, but for
himself he would have chosen them. Why did he think so differently (for
himself and) for the pigs?
7:
(Once), when duke Hwan was hunting by a marsh, with Kwan Kung driving the
carriage, he saw a ghost. Laying his hand on that of Kwan Kung, he said to
him,
'Do you see anything, Father Kung?'
'Your servant sees nothing,' was the reply.
The duke then returned, talking incoherently and becoming ill, so that for
several days he did not go out. Among the officers of Khi there was a Master
Hwang Kâo-âo, who said to the duke,
'Your Grace is injuring yourself; how could
a ghost injure you? When a paroxysm of irritation is dispersed, and the
breath does not return (to the body), what remains in the body is not
sufficient for its wants. When it ascends and does not descend, the patient
becomes accessible to gusts of anger. When it descends and does not ascend,
he loses his memory of things. When it neither ascends nor descends, but
remains about the heart in the centre of the body, it makes him ill.'
The duke said,
'Yes, but are there ghostly sprites?'
The officer replied,
'There are about mountain tarns there is
the Li; about furnaces, the Khieh; about the dust-heaps inside the door, the
Lei-thing. In low-lying places in the north-east, the Pei-a and Wa-lung leap
about, and in similar places in the north-west there dwells the Yi-yang.
About rivers there is the Wang-hsiang; about mounds, the Hsin; about hills,
the Khwei; about wilds, the Fang-hwang; about marshes, the Wei-tho.'
'Let me ask what is the Wei-tho like?'
asked the duke. Master Hwang said,
'It is the size of the nave of a chariot
wheel, and the length of the shaft. It wears a purple robe and a red cap. It
dislikes the rumbling noise of chariot wheels, and, when it hears it, it
puts both its hands to its head and stands up. He who sees it is likely to
become the leader of all the other princes.'
Duke Hwan burst out laughing and said,
'This was what I saw.'
On this he put his robes and cap to rights,
and made Master Hwang sit with him. Before the day was done, his illness was
quite gone, he knew not how.
Lin Hsi-hung: The story shows the many troubles that arise from not
renouncing the world. Ensnared by the world, men sacrifice for it their
higher life, and are not so wise as pigs are for their life.
8:
Master Ki Hsing was rearing a fighting-cock for the king. Being asked
after ten days if the bird were ready, he said,
'Not yet; he is still vain and quarrelsome,
and relies on his own vigour.'
Being asked the same after other ten days,
he said,
'Not yet; he still responds to the crow and
the appearance of another bird.'
After ten days more, he replied,
'Not yet. He still looks angrily, and is
full of spirit.'
When a fourth ten days had passed, he
replied to the question,
'Nearly so. Though another cock crows, it
makes no change in him. To look at him, you would say he was a cock of wood.
His quality is complete. No other cock will dare to meet him, but will run
from him.'
9:
Confucius was looking at the cataract near the gorge of Lü, which fell a
height of 240 cubits, and the spray of which floated a distance of forty li,
(producing a turbulence) in which no tortoise, gavial, fish, or turtle could
play. He saw, however, an old man swimming about in it, as if he had
sustained Some great calamity, and wished to end his life. Confucius made
his disciples hasten along the stream to rescue the man; and by the time
they had gone several hundred paces, he was walking along singing, with his
hair dishevelled, and enjoying himself at the foot of the embankment.
Confucius followed and asked him, saying,
'I thought you were a sprite; but, when I
look closely at you, I see that you are a man. Let me ask if you have any
particular way of treading the water.'
The man said,
'No, I have no particular way. I began (to
learn the art) at the very earliest time; as I grew up, it became my nature
to practise it; and my success in it is now as sure as fate. I enter and go
down with the water in the very centre of its whirl, and come up again with
it when it whirls the other way. I follow the way of the water, and do
nothing contrary to it of myself; —this is how I tread it.'
Confucius said,
'What do you mean by saying that you began
to learn the art at the very earliest time; that as you grew up, it became
your nature to practise it, and that your success in it now is as sure as
fate?'
The man replied,
'I was born among these hills and lived
contented among them; —that was why I say that I have trod this water from
my earliest time. I grew up by it, and have been happy treading it; —that is
why I said that to tread it had become natural to me. I know not how I do
it, and yet I do it; —that is why I say that my success is as sure as fate.'
10:
Khing, the Worker in Rottlera wood, carved a bell-stand, and when it was
completed, all who saw it were astonished as if it were the work of spirits.
The marquis of Lu went to see it, and asked by what art he had succeeded in
producing it.
'Your subject is but a mechanic,' was the
reply; 'what art should I be possessed of? Nevertheless, there is one thing
(which I will mention), When your servant had undertaken to make the
bell-stand, I did not venture to waste any of my power, and felt it
necessary to fast in order to compose my mind. After fasting for three days,
I did not presume to think of any congratulation, reward, rank, or emolument
(which I might obtain by the execution of my task); after fasting five days,
I did not presume to think of the condemnation or commendation (which it
would produce), or of the skill or want of skill (which it might display).
At the end of the seven days, I had forgotten all about myself; —my four
limbs and my whole person. By this time the thought of your Grace's court
(for which I was to make the thing) had passed away; everything that could
divert my mind from exclusive devotion to the exercise of my skill had
disappeared. Then I went into the forest, and looked at the natural forms of
the trees. When I saw one of a perfect form, then the figure of the
bell-stand rose up to my view, and I applied my hand to the work. Had I not
met with such a tree, I must have abandoned the object; but my Heaven-given
faculty and the Heaven-given qualities of the wood were concentrated on it.
So it was that my spirit was thus engaged in the production of the
bell-stand.'
11:
Tung-yê Ki was introduced to duke Kwang to exhibit his driving. His
horses went forwards and backwards with the straightness of a line, and
wheeled to the right and the left with the exactness of a circle. The duke
thought that the lines and circles could not be surpassed if they were woven
with silken strings, and told him to make a hundred circuits on the same
lines. On the road Yen Ho met the equipage, and on entering (the palace),
and seeing the duke, he said,
'Ki 's horses will break down,' but the
duke was silent, and gave him no reply. After a little the horses did come
back, having broken down; and the duke then said,' How did you know that it
would be so?'
Yen Ho said,
'The horses were exhausted, and he was
still urging them on. It was this which made me say that they would break
down.'
12:
The artisan Shui made things round (and square) more exactly than if he
had used the circle and square. The operation of his fingers on (the forms
of) things was like the transformations of them (in nature), and required no
application of his mind; and so his Intelligence I was entire and
encountered no resistance.
13:
To be unthought of by the foot that wears it is the fitness of a shoe; to
be unthought of by the waist is the fitness of a girdle. When one's wisdom
does not think of the right or the wrong (of a question under discussion),
that shows the suitability of the mind (for the question); when one is
conscious of no inward change, or outward attraction, that shows the mastery
of affairs. He who perceives at once the fitness, and never loses the sense
of it, has the fitness that forgets all about what is fitting.
14:
There was a Sun Hsiu who went to the door of Master Pien Khing Tzu, and
said to him in a strange perturbed way,
'When I lived in my village, no one took
notice of me, but all said that I did not cultivate (my fields); in a time
of trouble and attack, no one took notice of me, but all said that I had no
courage. But that I did not cultivate my fields, was really because I never
met with a good year; and that I did not do service for our ruler, was
because I did not meet with the suitable opportunity to do so. I have been
sent about my business by the villagers, and am driven away by the
registrars of the district; —what is my crime? O Heaven! how is it that I
have met with such a fate?'
Master Pien said to him,
'Have you not heard how the perfect man
deals with himself? He forgets that be has a liver and gall. He takes no
thought of his ears and eyes. He seems lost and aimless beyond the dust and
dirt of the world, and enjoys himself at ease in occupations untroubled by
the affairs of business. He may be described as acting and yet not relying
on what he does, as being superior and yet not using his superiority to
exercise any control. But now you would make a display of your wisdom to
astonish the ignorant; you would cultivate your person to make the
inferiority of others more apparent; you seek to shine as if you were
carrying the sun and moon in your hands. That you are complete in your
bodily frame, and possess all its nine openings; that you have not met with
any calamity in the middle of your course, such as deafness, blindness, or
lameness, and can still take your place as a man among other men; —in all
this you are fortunate. What leisure have you to murmur against Heaven? Go
away, Sir.'
Master Sun on this went out, and Master
Pien went inside. Having sitten down, after a little time he looked up to
heaven, and sighed. His disciples asked him why he sighed, and he said to
them,
'Hsiu came to me a little while ago, and I
told him the characteristics of the perfect man. I am afraid he will be
frightened, and get into a state of perplexity.'
His disciples said,
'Not so. If what he said was right, and
what you said was wrong, the wrong will certainly not be able to perplex the
right. If what he said was wrong, and what you said was right, it was just
because he was perplexed that he came to you. What was your fault in dealing
with him as you did?'
Master Pien said,
'Not so. Formerly a bird came, and took up
its seat in the suburbs of Lu. The ruler of Lu was pleased with it, and
provided an ox, a sheep, and a pig to feast it, causing also the Kiu-shâo to
be performed to delight it. But the bird began to be sad, looked dazed, and
did not venture to eat or drink. This was what is called "Nourishing a bird,
as you would nourish yourself." He who would nourish a bird as a bird should
be nourished should let it perch in a deep forest, or let it float on a
river or lake, or let it find its food naturally and undisturbed on the
level dry ground. Now Hsiu (came to me), a man of slender intelligence, and
slight information, and I told him of the characteristics of the perfect
man, it was like using a carriage and horses to convey a mouse, or trying to
delight a quail with the music of bells and drums; could the creatures help
being frightened?'
1:
Master Chuang was walking on a mountain, when he saw a great tree with
huge branches and luxuriant foliage. A wood-cutter was resting by its side,
but he would not touch it, and, when asked the reason, said, that it was of
no use for anything, Master Chuang then said to his disciples,
'This tree, because its wood is good for
nothing, will succeed in living out its natural term of years.'
Having left the mountain, the Master lodged
in the house of an old friend, who was glad to see him, and ordered his
waiting-lad to kill a goose and boil it. The lad said,
'One of our geese can cackle, and the other
cannot; —which of them shall I kill?'
The host said,
'Kill the one that cannot cackle.'
Next day, his disciples asked Master Chuang,
saying,
'Yesterday the tree on the mountain (you
said) would live out its years because of the uselessness of its wood, and
now our host's goose has died because of its want of power (to cackle);
—which of these conditions, Master, would you prefer to be in?'
Master Chuang laughed and said,
'(If I said that) I would prefer to be in a
position between being fit to be useful and wanting that fitness, that would
seem to be the right position, but it would not be so, for it would not put
me beyond being involved in trouble; whereas one who takes his seat on the
Tao and its Attributes, and there finds his ease and enjoyment, is not
exposed to such a contingency. He is above the reach both of praise and of
detraction; now he (mounts aloft) like a dragon, now he (keeps beneath) like
a snake; he is transformed with the (changing) character of the time, and is
not willing to addict himself to any one thing; now in a high position and
now in a low, he is in harmony with all his surroundings; he enjoys himself
at case with the Author of all things; he treats things as things, and is
not a thing to them:—where is his liability to be involved in trouble? This
was the method of Shän Näng and Hwang-Ti. As to those who occupy themselves
with the qualities of things, and with the teaching and practice of the
human relations, it is not so with them. Union brings on separation;
success, overthrow; sharp corners, the use of the file; honour, critical
remarks; active exertion, failure; wisdom, scheming; inferiority, being
despised:—where is the possibility of unchangeableness in any of these
conditions? Remember this, my disciples. Let your abode be here,-in the Tao
and its Attribute.'
2:
Î-liâo, an officer of Shih-nan, having an interview with the marquis of
Lu, found him looking sad, and asked him why he was so. The marquis said,
'I have studied the ways of the former
kings, and cultivated the inheritance left me by my predecessors. I
reverence the spirits of the departed and honour the men of worth, doing
this with personal devotion, and without the slightest intermission.
Notwithstanding, I do not avoid meeting with calamity, and this it is which
makes me sad.'
The officer said,
'The arts by which you try to remove
calamity are shallow. Think of the close-furred fox and of the
elegantly-spotted leopard. They lodge in the forests on the hills, and lurk
in their holes among the rocks; —keeping still. At night they go about, and
during day remain in their lairs; so cautious are they. Even if they are
suffering from hunger, thirst, and other distresses, they still keep aloof
from men, seeking their food about the Kiang and the Ho; —so resolute are
they. Still they are not able to escape the danger of the net or the trap;
and what fault is it of theirs? It is their skins which occasion them the
calamity.
'And is not the state of Ku your lordship's
skin? I wish your lordship to rip your skin from your body, to cleanse your
heart, to put away your desires, and to enjoy yourself where you will be
without the presence of any one. In the southern state of Yüeh, there is a
district called "the State of Established Virtue." The people are ignorant
and simple; their object is to minimise the thought of self and make their
desires few; they labour but do not lay up their gains; they give but do not
seek for any return; they do not know what righteousness is required of them
in any particular case, nor by what ceremonies their performances should be
signalised; acting in a wild and eccentric way as if they were mad, they yet
keep to the grand rules of conduct. Their birth is an occasion for joy;
their death is followed by the rites of burial. I should wish your lordship
to leave your state; to give up your ordinary ways, and to proceed to that
country by the directest course.'
The ruler said,
'The way to it is distant and difficult;
there are rivers and hills; and as I have neither boat nor carriage, how am
I to go?'
The officer from Shih-nan rejoined,
'If your lordship abjure your personal
state, and give up your wish to remain here, that will serve you for a
carriage.'
The ruler rejoined,
'The way to it is solitary and distant, and
there are no people on it; —whom shall 1 have as my companions? I have no
provisions prepared, and how shall I get food?-how shall I be able to get
(to the country)?'
The officer said,
'Minimise your lordship's expenditure, and
make your wants few, and though you have no provisions prepared, you will
find you have enough. Wade through the rivers and float along on the sea,
where however you look, you see not the shore, and, the farther you go, you
do not see where your journey is to end; —those who escorted you to the
shore will return, and after that you will feel yourself far away. Thus it
is that he who owns men (as their ruler) is involved in troubles, and he who
is owned by men (as their ruler) suffers from sadness; and hence Yao would
neither own men, nor be owned by them. I wish to remove your trouble, and
take away your sadness, and it is only (to be done by inducing you) to enjoy
yourself with the Tao in the land of Great Vacuity.
'If a man is crossing a river in a boat,
and another empty vessel comes into collision with it, even though he be a
man of a choleric temper, he will not be angry with it. If there be a
person, however, in that boat, he will bawl out to him to haul out of the
way. If his shout be not heard, he will repeat it; and if the other do not
then hear, he will call out a third time, following up the shout with
abusive terms. Formerly he was not angry, but now he is; formerly (he
thought) the boat was empty, but now there is a person in it. If a man can
empty himself of himself, during his time in the world, who can harm him?'
3:
Pei-kung Shê was collecting taxes for duke Ling of Wei, to be employed in
making (a peal of) bells. (In connexion with the work) he built an altar
outside the gate of the suburban wall; and in three months the bells were
completed, even to the suspending of the upper and lower (tiers). The king's
son Khing-ki saw them, and asked what arts he had employed in the making of
them. Shê replied,
'Besides my undivided attention to them, 1
did not venture to use any arts. I have heard the saying, "After all the
carving and the chiselling, let the object be to return to simplicity." I
was as a child who has no knowledge; I was extraordinarily slow and
hesitating; they grew like the springing plants of themselves. In escorting
those who went and meeting those who came, my object was neither to hinder
the corners nor detain the goers. I suffered those who strongly opposed to
take their way, and accepted those who did their best to come to terms. I
allowed them all to do the utmost they could, and in this way morning and
evening I collected the taxes. I did not have the slightest trouble, and how
much more will this be the case with those who pursue the Great Way (on a
grand scale)!'
4:
Confucius was kept (by his enemies) in a state of siege between Khän and
Zhâi, and for seven days had no food cooked with fire to eat. The Tai-kung
Zân went to condole with him, and said,
'You had nearly met with your death.'
'Yes,' was the reply.
'Do you dislike death?'
'I do.'
Then Zän continued,
'Let me try and describe a way by which
(such a) death may be avoided.—In the eastern sea there are birds which go
by the name of Î-i s; they fly low and slowly as if they were deficient in
power. They fly as if they were leading and assisting one another, and they
press on one another when they roost. No one ventures to take the lead in
going forward, or to be the last in going backwards. In eating no one
ventures to take the first mouthful, but prefers the fragments left by
others. In this way (the breaks in) their line are not many, and men outside
them cannot harm them, so that they escape injury.
'The straight tree is the first to be cut
down; the well of sweet water is the first to be exhausted. Your aim is to
embellish your wisdom so as to startle the ignorant, and to cultivate your
person to show the unsightliness of others. A light shines around you as if
you were carrying with you the sun and moon, and thus it is that you do not
escape such calamity. Formerly I heard a highly accomplished man say, "Those
who boast have no merit. The merit which is deemed complete will begin to
decay. The fame which is deemed complete will begin to wane." Who can rid
himself of (the ideas of) merit and fame, and return and put himself on the
level of the masses of men? The practice of the Tao flows abroad, but its
master does not care to dwell where it can be seen; his attainments in it
hold their course, but he does not wish to appear in its display. Always
simple and commonplace, he may seem to be "bereft of reason. He obliterates
the traces of his action, gives up position and power, and aims not at merit
and fame. Therefore he does not censure men, and men do not censure him. The
perfect man does not seek to be heard of; how is it that you delight in
doing so?'
Confucius said,
'Excellent;' and thereupon he took leave of
his associates, forsook his disciples, retired to the neighbourhood of a
great marsh, wore skins and hair cloth, and ate acorns and chestnuts. He
went among animals without causing any confusion among their herds, and
among birds without troubling their movements. Birds and beasts did not
dislike him; how much less would men do so!
5:
Confucius asked Tzu-sang Hu, saying,
'I was twice driven from Lu; the tree was
felled over me in Sung; I was obliged to disappear from Wei; I was reduced
to extreme distress in Shang and Kâu; and I was kept in a state of siege
between Khän and Zhâi. I have encountered these various calamities; my
intimate associates are removed from me more and more; my followers and
friends are more and more dispersed; —why have all these things befallen
me?'
Tzu-sang Hu replied,
'Have you not heard of the flight of Lin
Hui of Kiâ[3]; —how he abandoned his round jade symbol of rank, worth a
thousand pieces of silver, and hurried away with his infant son on his back?
If it be asked, "Was it because of the market value of the child?" But that
value was small (compared with the value of the jade token). If it be asked
again, "Was it because of the troubles (of his office)?" But the child would
occasion him much more trouble. Why was it then that, abandoning the jade
token, worth a thousand pieces of silver, he hurried away with the child on
his back? Lin Hui (himself) said, "The union between me and the token rested
on the ground of gain; that between me and the child was of Heaven's
appointment." Where the bond of union is its profitableness, when the
pressure of poverty, calamity, distress, and injury come, the parties
abandon one another; when it is of Heaven's appointment, they hold in the
same circumstances to one another. Now between abandoning one another, and
holding to one another, the difference is great. Moreover, the intercourse
of superior men is tasteless as water, while that of mean men is sweet as
new wine. But the tastelessness of the superior men leads on to affection,
and the sweetness of the mean men to aversion. The union which originates
without any cause will end in separation without any cause.'
Confucius said,
'I have reverently received your
instructions.'
And hereupon, with a slow step and an
assumed air of ease, he returned to his own house. There he made an end of
studying and put away his books. His disciples came no more to make their
bow to him (and be taught), but their affection for him increased the more.
Another day Sang Hu said further to him,
'When Shun was about to die, he charged Yü,
saying,
'Be on your guard. (The attraction of) the
person is not like that of sympathy; the (power of) affection is not like
the leading (of example). Where there is sympathy, there will not be
separation; where there is (the leading of) example, there will be no toil.
Where there is neither separation nor toil, you will not have to seek the
decoration of forms to make the person attractive, and where there is no
such need of those forms, there will certainly be none for external things.'
6:
Master Chuang in a patched dress of coarse cloth, and having his shoes
tied together with strings, was passing by the king of Wei, who said to him,
'How great, Master, is your distress?'
Master Chuang replied,
'It is poverty, not distress! While a
scholar possesses the Tao and its Attributes, he cannot be going about in
distress. Tattered clothes and shoes tied on the feet are the sign of
poverty, and not of distress. This is what we call not meeting with the
right time. Has your majesty not seen the climbing monkey? When he is among
the plane trees, rottleras, oaks, and camphor trees, he grasps and twists
their branches (into a screen), where he reigns quite at his ease, so that
not even Î or Phäng Mäng could spy him out. When, however, he finds himself
among the prickly mulberry and date trees, and other thorns, he goes
cautiously, casts sidelong glances, and takes every trembling movement with
apprehension; —it is not that his sinews and bones are straitened, and have
lost their suppleness, but the situation is unsuitable for him, and he
cannot display his agility. And now when I dwell under a benighted ruler,
and seditious ministers, how is it possible for me not to be in distress? My
case might afford an illustration of the cutting out the heart of Pi-kan!'
7:
When Confucius was reduced to great distress between Khän and Khâi, and
for seven days he had no cooked food to eat, he laid hold of a decayed tree
with his left hand, and with his right hand tapped it with a decayed branch,
singing all the while the ode of Piâo-shih. He had his instrument, but the
notes were not marked on it. There was a noise, but no blended melody. The
sound of the wood and the voice of the man came together like the noise of
the plough through the ground, yet suitably to the feelings of the disciples
around. Yen Hui, who was standing upright, with his hands crossed on his
breast, rolled his eyes round to observe him. Kung-ni, fearing that Hui
would go to excess in manifesting how he honoured himself, or be plunged in
sorrow through his love for him, said to him,
'Hui, not to receive (as evils) the
inflictions of Heaven is easy; not to receive (as benefits) the favours of
men is difficult. There is no beginning which was not an end. The Human and
the Heavenly may be one and the same. Who, for instance, is it that is now
singing?'
Hui said,
'I venture to ask how not to receive (as
evils) the inflictions of Heaven is easy.'
Kung-ni said,
'Hunger, thirst, cold, and heat, and having
one's progress entirely blocked up; —these are the doings of Heaven and
Earth, necessary incidents in the revolutions of things. They are
occurrences of which we say that we will pass on (composedly) along with
them. The minister of another does not dare to refuse his commands; and if
he who is discharging the duty of a minister feels it necessary to act thus,
how much more should we wait with case on the commands of Heaven!'
'What do you mean by saying that not to
receive (as benefits) the favours of men is difficult?'
Kung-ni said,
'As soon as one is employed in office, he
gets forward in all directions; rank and emolument come to him together, and
without end. But these advantages do not come from one's self; —it is my
appointed lot to have such external good. The superior man is not a robber;
the man of worth is no filcher; —if I prefer such things, what am I? Hence
it is said, "There is no bird wiser than the swallow." Where its eye lights
on a place that is not suitable for it, it does not give it a second glance.
Though it may drop the food from its mouth, it abandons it, and hurries off.
It is afraid of men, and yet it stealthily takes up its dwelling by his;
finding its protection in the altars of the Land and Grain.
'What do you mean by saying that there is
no beginning which was not an end?'
Kung-ni said,
'The change—rise and dissolution—of all
things (continually) goes on, but we do not know who it is that maintains
and continues the process. How do we know when any one begins? How do we
know when he will end? We have simply to wait for it, and nothing more.'
'And what do you mean by saying that the
Human and the Heavenly are one and the same?'
Kung-ni said,
'Given man, and you have Heaven; given
Heaven, and you still have Heaven (and nothing more). That man can not have
Heaven is owing to the limitation of his nature'. The sagely man quietly
passes away with his body, and there is an end of it.'
8:
As Kwang Kâu was rambling in the park of Tiâo-ling he saw a strange bird
which came from the south. Its wings were seven cubits in width, and its
eyes were large, an inch in circuit. It touched the forehead of Kâu as it
passed him, and lighted in a grove of chestnut trees.
'What bird is this?'said he, 'with such
great wings not to go on! and with such large eyes not to see me!' He lifted
up his skirts, and hurried with his cross-bow, waiting for (an opportunity
to shoot) it. (Meanwhile) he saw a cicada, which had just alighted in a
beautiful shady spot, and forgot its (care for its) body. (Just then), a
preying mantis raised its feelers, and pounced on the cicada, in its
eagerness for its prey, (also) forgetting (its care for) its body; while the
strange bird took advantage of its opportunity to secure them both, in view
of that gain forgetting its true (instinct of preservation). Kwang Kâu with
an emotion of pity, said,
'Ah! So it is that things bring evil on one
another, each of these creatures invited its own calamity.'
(With this) he put away his cross-bow, and
was hurrying away back, when the forester pursued him with terms of
reproach.
When he returned and went into his house,
he did not appear in his courtyard for three [days]. (When he came out), Lan
Zü (his disciple) asked him, saying,
'Master, why have you for this some time
avoided the courtyard so much?'
Master Chuang replied,
'I was guarding my person, and forgot
myself; I was looking at turbid water, till I mistook the clear pool. And
moreover I have heard the Master say', "Going where certain customs prevail,
you should follow those customs." I was walking about in the park of Tiâo-ling,
and forgot myself. A strange bird brushed past my forehead, and went flying
about in the grove of chestnuts, where it forgot the true (art of preserving
itself). The forester of the chestnut grove thought that I was a fitting
object for his reproach. These are the reasons why I have avoided the
courtyard.'
9:
Master Yang, having gone to Sung, passed the night in a lodging-house,
the master of which had two concubines; —one beautiful, the other ugly. The
ugly one was honoured, however, and the beautiful one contemned. Master Yang
asked the reason, and a little boy of the house replied,
'The beauty knows her beauty, and we do not
recognise it. The ugly one knows her ugliness, and we do not recognise it.'
Master Yang said,
'Remember it, my disciples. Act virtuously,
and put away the practice of priding yourselves on your virtue. If you do
this, where can you go to that you will not be loved?'
1:
Thien Tzu-fang, sitting in attendance on the marquis Wän of Wei, often
quoted (with approbation) the words of Khi Kung. The marquis said,
'Is Khi Kung your preceptor?'
Tzu-fang replied,
'No. He only belongs to the same
neighbourhood. In speaking about the Tao, his views are often correct, and
therefore I quote them as I do.'
The marquis went on,
'Then have you no preceptor?'
'I have.'
'And who is he?'
'He is Master Tung-kwo Shun.'
'And why, my Master, have I never heard you
quote his words?'
Tzu-fang replied,
'He is a man who satisfies the true (ideal
of humanity); a man in appearance, but (having the mind of) Heaven. Void of
any thought of himself, he accommodates himself to others, and nourishes the
true ideal that belongs to him. With all his purity, he is forbearing to
others. Where they are without the Tao, he rectifies his demeanour, so that
they understand it, and in consequence their own ideas melt away and
disappear. How should one like me be fit to quote his words?'
When Tzu-fang went out, the marquis Wän
continued in a state of dumb amazement all the day. He then called Lung Li-khin,
and said to him,
'How far removed from us is the superior
man of complete virtue! Formerly I thought the words of the sages and wise
men, and the practice of benevolence and righteousness, to be the utmost we
could reach to. Since I have heard about the preceptor of Tzu-fang, my body
is all unstrung, and I do not wish to move, and my mouth is closed up, and I
do not wish to speak; —what I have learned has been only a counterfeit of
the truth. Yes, (the possession of Wei) has been an entanglement to me.'
2:
Master Wän-po Hsüeh, on his way to Khï, stayed some time in Lu, where
some persons of the state begged to have an interview with him. He refused
them, saying,
'I have heard that the superior men of
these Middle States understand the (subjects of) ceremony and righteousness,
but are deplorably ignorant of the minds of men. I do not wish to see them.'
He went on to Khi; and on his way back (to
the south), he again stayed in Lu, when the same persons begged as before
for an interview. He then said,
'Formerly they asked to see me, and now
again they seek an interview. They will afford me some opportunity of
bringing out my sentiments.'
He went out accordingly and saw the
visitors, and came in again with a sigh. Next day the same thing occurred,
and his servant said to him,
'How is it that whenever you see those
visitors, you are sure to come in again sighing?'
'I told you before,' was the reply, 'that
the people of these Middle States understand (the subjects of) ceremony and
righteousness, but are deplorably ignorant of the minds of men. Those men
who have just seen me, as they came in and went out would describe, one a
circle and another a square, and in their easy carriage would be like, one a
dragon and another a tiger. They remonstrated with me as sons (with their
fathers), and laid down the way for me as fathers (for their sons). It was
this which made me sigh.'
Kung-ni saw the man, but did not speak a
word to him. Tzu-lu said,
'You have wished, Sir, to see this Master
Wän-po Hsüeh for a long time; what is the reason that when you have seen
him, you have not spoken a word?'
Kung-ni replied,
'As soon as my eyes lighted on that man,
the Tao in him was apparent. The situation did not admit of a word being
spoken.'
3:
Yen Yü an asked Kung-ni, saying,
'Master, when you pace quietly along, I
also pace along; when you go more quickly, I also do the same; when you
gallop, I also gallop; but when you race along and spurn the dust, then I
can only stand and look, and keep behind you'.'
The Master said,
'Hui, what do you mean?'
The reply was,
'In saying that when you, Master, pace
quietly along, I also pace along," I mean that when you speak, I also speak.
By saying, "When you go more quickly, I also do the same," I mean I that
when you reason, I also reason. By saying, "When you gallop, I also gallop,"
I mean that when you speak of the Way, I also speak of the Way; but by
saying, "When you race along and spurn the dust, then I can only stare, and
keep behind you," I am thinking how though you do not speak, yet all men
believe you; though you are no partisan, yet all parties approve your
catholicity; and though you sound no instrument, yet people all move on
harmoniously before you, while (all the while) I do not know how all this
comes about; and this is all which my words are intended to express.'
Kung-ni said,
'But you must try and search the matter
out. Of all causes for sorrow there is none so great as the death of the
mind; —the death of man's (body) is only next to it. The sun comes forth in
the east, and sets in the extreme West; —all things have their position
determined by these two points. All that have eyes and feet wait for this
(sun), and then proceed to do what they have to do. When this comes forth,
they appear in their places; when it sets, they disappear. It is so with all
things. They have that for which they wait, and (on its arrival) they die;
they have that for which they wait, and then (again) they live. When once I
receive my frame thus completed, I remain unchanged, awaiting the
consummation of my course. I move as acted on by things, day and night
without cessation, and I do not know when I will come to an end. Clearly I
am here a completed frame, and even one who (fancies that he) knows what is
appointed cannot determine it beforehand. I am in this way daily passing on,
but all day long I am communicating my views to you; and now, as we are
shoulder to shoulder you fail (to understand me); —is it not matter for
lamentation? You are able in a measure to set forth what I more clearly set
forth; but that is passed away, and you look for it, as if it were still
existing, just as if you were looking for a horse in the now empty place
where it was formerly exhibited for sale. You have very much forgotten my
service to you, and I have very much forgotten wherein I served you. But
nevertheless why should you account this such an evil? What you forget is
but my old self; that which cannot be forgotten remains with me.'
4:
Confucius went to see Lao Tan, and arrived just as he had completed the
bathing of his head, and was letting his dishevelled hair get dry. There be
was, motionless, and as if there were not another man in the world.
Confucius waited quietly; and, when in a little time he was introduced, he
said,
'Were my eyes dazed? Is it really you? Just
now, your body, Sir, was like the stump of a rotten tree. You looked as if
you had no thought of anything, as if you had left the society of men, and
were standing in the solitude (of yourself).'
Lao Tan replied,
'I was enjoying myself in thinking about
the commencement of things.'
'What do you mean?'
'My mind is so cramped, that I hardly know
it; my tongue is so tied that I cannot tell it; but I will try to describe
it to you as nearly as I can. When the state of Yin was perfect, all was
cold and severe; when the state of Yang was perfect, all was turbulent and
agitated. The coldness and severity came forth from Heaven; the turbulence
and agitation issued from Earth. The two states communicating together, a
harmony ensued and things were produced. Some one regulated and controlled
this, but no one has seen his form. Decay and growth; fulness and emptiness;
darkness and light; the changes of the sun and the transformations of the
moon:—these are brought about from day to day; but no one sees the process
of production. Life has its origin from which it springs, and death has its
place from which it returns. Beginning and ending go on in mutual
contrariety without any determinable commencement, and no one knows bow
either comes to an end. If we disallow all this, who originates and presides
over all these phenomena?'
Confucius said,
'I beg to ask about your enjoyment in these
thoughts.'
Lao Tan replied,
'The comprehension of this is the most
admirable and the most enjoyable (of all acquisitions). The getting of the
most admirable and the exercise of the thoughts in what is the most
enjoyable, constitutes what we call the Perfect man.'
Confucius said,
'I should like to hear the method of
attaining to it.'
The reply was,
'Grass-eating animals do not dislike to
change their pastures; creatures born in the water do not dislike to change
their waters. They make a small change, but do not lose what is the great
and regular requirement (of their nature); joy, anger, sadness, and delight
do not enter into their breasts (in connexion with such events). Now the
space under the sky is occupied by all things in their unity. When they
possess that unity and equally share it, then the four limbs and hundred
members of their body are but so much dust and dirt, while death and life,
their ending and beginning, are but as the succession of day and night,
which cannot disturb their enjoyment; and how much less will they be
troubled by gains and losses, by calamity and happiness! Those who renounce
the paraphernalia of rank do it as if they were casting away so much mud;
they know that they are themselves more honourable than those paraphernalia.
The honour belonging to one's self is not lost by any change (of condition).
Moreover, a myriad transformations may take place before the end of them is
reached. What is there in all this sufficient to trouble the mind? Those who
have attained to the Tao understand the subject.'
Confucius said,
'O Master, your virtue is equal to that of
Heaven and Earth, and still I must borrow (some of your) perfect words (to
aid me) in the cultivation of my mind. Who among the superior men of
antiquity could give such expression to them?'
Lao Tan replied,
'Not so. Look at the spring, the water of
which rises and overflows; it does nothing, but it naturally acts so. So
with the perfect man and his virtue; —he does not cultivate it, and nothing
evades its influence. He is like heaven which is high of itself, like earth
which is solid of itself, like the sun and moon which shine of themselves;
—what need is there to cultivate it?'
Confucius went out and reported the
conversation to Yen Hui, saying,
'In the (knowledge of the) Tao am I any
better than an animalcule in vinegar? But for the Master's lifting the veil
from me, I should not have known the grand perfection of Heaven and Earth.'
5:
At an interview of Master Chuang with duke Âi of Lu, the duke said,
'There are many of the Learned class in Lu;
but few of them can be compared with you, Sir.'
Master Chuang replied,
'There are few Learned men in Lu .'
'Everywhere in Lu,' rejoined the duke, 'you
see men wearing the dress of the learned; —how can you say that they are
few?'
'I have heard,' said Master Chuang, 'that
those of them who wear round caps know the times of heaven; that those who
wear square shoes know the contour of the ground; and that those who saunter
about with semicircular stones at their girdle-pendents settle matters in
dispute as they come before them. But superior men who are possessed of such
knowledge will not be found wearing the dress, and it does not follow that
those who wear the dress possess the knowledge. If your Grace think
otherwise, why not issue a notification through the state, that it shall be
a capital offence to wear the dress without possessing the knowledge.'
On this the duke issued such a
notification, and in five days, throughout all Lu, there was no one who
dared to wear the dress of the Learned. There was only one old man who came
and stood in it at the duke's gate. The duke instantly called him in, and
questioned him about the affairs of the state, when he talked about a
thousand points and ten thousand divergences from them. Master Chuang said,
'When the state of Lu can thus produce but
one man of the Learned class, can he be said to be many?'
6:
The ideas of rank and emolument did not enter the mind of Pâi-li Hsi, and
so he became a cattle-feeder, and his cattle were all in fine condition.
This made duke Mu of Khin forget the meanness of his position, and put the
government (of his state) into his hands. Neither life nor death entered
into the mind of (Shun), the Lord of Yü, and therefore he was able to
influence others.
7:
The ruler Yü an of Sung wishing to have a map drawn, the masters of the
pencil all came (to undertake the task). Having received his instructions
and made their bows, they stood, licking their pencils and preparing their
ink. Half their number, however, remained outside. There was one who came
late, with an air of indifference, and did not hurry forward. When he had
received his instructions and made his bow, he did not keep standing, but
proceeded to his shed. The duke sent a man to see him, and there he was,
with his upper garment off, sitting cross-legged, and nearly naked. The
ruler said,
'He is the man; he is a true draughtsman.'
8:
King Wän was (once) looking about him at Zang, when he saw an old man
fishing. But his fishing was no fishing. It was not the fishing of one whose
business is fishing. He was always fishing (as if he had no object in the
occupation). The king wished to raise him to office, and put the government
into his hands, but was afraid that such a step would give dissatisfaction
to his great ministers, his uncles, and cousins. He then wished to dismiss
the man altogether from his mind, but he could not bear the thought that his
people should be without (such a) Heaven (as their Protector). On this,
(next) morning, he called together his great officers, and said to them,
'Last night, I dreamt that I saw a good man
with a dark complexion and a beard, riding on a piebald horse, one half of
whose hoofs were red, who commanded me, saying, "Lodge your government in
the hands of the old man of Zang; and perhaps the evils of your people will
be cured."' The great officers said eagerly,
'It was the king, your father.'
King Wän said,
'Let us then submit the proposal to the
tortoise-shell.'
They replied,
'It is the order of your father. Let not
your majesty think of any other. Why divine about it?'
(The king) then met the old man of Zang,
and committed the government to him. The statutes and laws were not changed
by him; not a one-sided order (of his own) was issued; but when the king
made a survey of the kingdom after three years, he found that the officers
had destroyed the plantations (which harboured banditti), and dispersed
their occupiers, that the superintendents of the official departments did
not plume themselves on their successes, and that no unusual grain measures
were allowed within the different states. When the officers had destroyed
the dangerous plantations and dispersed their occupants, the highest value
was set on the common interests; when the chiefs of departments did not
plume themselves on their successes, the highest value was set on the common
business; when unusual grain measures did not enter the different states,
the different princes had no jealousies. On this king Min made the old man
his Grand Preceptor, and asked him, with his own face to the north, whether
his government might be extended to all the kingdom. The old man looked
perplexed and gave no reply, but with aimless look took his leave. In the
morning he had issued his orders, and at night he had gone his way; nor was
he heard of again all his life. Yen Yü an questioned Confucius, saying,
'Was even king Wän unequal to determine his
course? What had he to do with resorting to a dream?'
Kung-ni replied,
'Be silent and do not say a word! King Win
was complete in everything. What have you to do with criticising him? He
only had recourse (to the dream) to meet a moment's difficulty.'
9:
Lieh Yü-khâu was exhibiting his archery' to Po-hwän Wu-zän. Having drawn
the bow to its full extent, with a cup of water placed on his elbow, he let
fly. As the arrow was discharged, another was put in its place; and as that
was sent off, a third was ready on the string. All the while he stood like a
statue. Po-hwän Wu-zän said,
'That is the shooting of an archer, but not
of one who shoots without thinking about his shooting. Let me go up with you
to the top of a high mountain, treading with you among the tottering rocks,
till we arrive at the brink of a precipice, 800 cubits deep, and (I will
then see) if you can shoot.'
On this they went up a high mountain,
making their way among the tottering rocks, till they came to the brink of a
precipice 800 cubits deep. Then Wu-zän turned round and walked backwards,
till his feet were two-thirds of their length outside the edge, and beckoned
Yü-khâu to come forward. He, however, had fallen prostrate on the ground,
with the sweat pouring down to his heels. Then the other said,
'The Perfect man looks up to the azure sky
above, or dives down to the yellow springs beneath, or soars away to the
eight ends of the universe, without any change coming over his spirit or his
breath. But now the trepidation of your mind appears in your dazed eyes;
your inward feeling of peril is extreme!'
10:
Kien Wu asked Sun-shu Âo, saying,
'You, Sir, were three times chief minister,
and did not feel elated; you were three times dismissed from that position,
without manifesting any sorrow. At first I was in doubt about you, (but I am
not now, since) I see how regularly and quietly the breath comes through
your nostrils. How is it that you exercise your mind?'
Sun-shu Âo replied,
'In what do I surpass other men? When the
position came to me, I thought it should not be rejected; when it was taken
away, I thought it could not be retained. I considered that the getting or
losing it did not make me what I was, and was no occasion for any
manifestation of sorrow; —that was all. In what did I surpass other men? And
moreover, I did not know whether the honour of it belonged to the dignity,
or to myself. If it belonged to the dignity, it was nothing to me; if it
belonged to me, it had nothing to do with the dignity. While occupied with
these uncertainties, and looking round in all directions, what leisure had I
to take knowledge of whether men honoured me or thought me mean?'
Kung-ni heard of all this, and said,
'The True men of old could not be fully
described by the wisest, nor be led into excess by the most beautiful, nor
be forced by the most violent robber. Neither Fu-hsi nor Hwang-Ti could
compel them to be their friends. Death and life are indeed great
considerations, but they could make no change in their (true) self; and how
much less could rank and emolument do so? Being such, their spirits might
pass over the Tai mountain and find it no obstacle to them; they might enter
the greatest gulphs, and not be wet by them; they might occupy the lowest
and smallest positions without being distressed by them. Theirs was the
fulness of heaven and earth; the more that they gave to others, the more
they had.'
The king of Ku and the ruler of Fan were
sitting together. After a little while, the attendants of the king said,
'Fan has been destroyed three times.'
The ruler of Fan rejoined,
'The destruction of Fan has not been
sufficient to destroy what we had that was most deserving to be preserved.'
Now, if the destruction of Fan had not been
sufficient to destroy that which it had most deserving to be preserved, the
preservation of Ku had not been sufficient to preserve that in it most
deserving to be preserved. Looking at the matter from this point of view,
Fan had not begun to be destroyed, and Ku had not begun to be preserved.
1:
Knowledge had rambled northwards to the region of the Dark Water, where
he ascended the height of Imperceptible Slope, when it happened that he met
with Dumb Inaction. Knowledge addressed him, saying,
'I wish to ask you some questions:—By what
process of thought and anxious consideration do we get to know the Tao?
Where should we dwell and what should we do to find our rest in the Tao?
From what point should we start and what path should we pursue to make the
Tao our own?'
He asked these three questions, but Dumb
Inaction gave him no reply. Not only did he not answer, but he did not know
how to answer.
Knowledge, disappointed by the
fruitlessness of his questions, returned to the south of the Bright Water,
and ascended the height of the End of Doubt where he saw Heedless Blurter,
to whom he put the same questions, and who replied,
'Ah! I know, and will tell you.'
But while he was about to speak, he forgot
what he wanted to say.
Knowledge, (again) receiving no answer to
his questions, returned to the palace of the Ti, where he saw Hwang-Ti, and
put the questions to him.
Hwang-Ti said,
'To exercise no thought and no anxious
consideration is the first step towards knowing the Tao; to dwell nowhere
and do nothing is the first step towards resting in the Tao; to start from
nowhere and pursue no path is the first step towards making the Tao your
own.'
Knowledge then asked Hwang-Ti, saying,
'I and you know this; those two did not
know it; which of us is right?'
The reply was,
'Dumb Inaction is truly right; Heedless
Blurter has an appearance of being so; I and you are not near being so. (As
it is said), "Those who know (the Tao) do not speak of it; those who speak
of it do not know it; " and "Hence the sage conveys his instructions without
the use of speech." The Tao cannot be made ours by constraint; its
characteristics will not come to us (at our call). Benevolence may be
practised; Righteousness may be partially attended to; by Ceremonies men
impose on one another. Hence it is said, "When the Tao was lost, its
Characteristics appeared. When its Characteristics were lost, Benevolence
appeared. When Benevolence was lost, Righteousness appeared. When
Righteousness was lost, Ceremonies appeared. Ceremonies are but (the
unsubstantial) flowers of the Tao, and the commencement of disorder [l]."
Hence (also it is further said), "He who
practises the Tao, daily diminishes his doing. He diminishes it and again
diminishes it, till he arrives at doing nothing. Having arrived at this
non-inaction, there is nothing that he does not do."
Here now there is something, a regularly
fashioned utensil; —if you wanted to make it return to the original
condition of its materials, would it not be difficult to make it do so?
Could any but the Great Man accomplish this easily?
'Life is the follower of death, and death
is the predecessor of life; but who knows the Arranger (of this connexion
between them)? The life is due to the collecting of the breath. When that is
collected, there is life; when it is dispersed, there is death. Since death
and life thus attend on each other, why should I account (either of) them an
evil?
'Therefore all things go through one and
the same experience. (Life) is accounted beautiful because it is spirit-like
and wonderful, and death is accounted ugly because of its foetor and
putridity. But the foetid and putrid is transformed again into the
spirit-like and wonderful, and the spirit-like and wonderful is transformed
again into the foetid and putrid. Hence it is said, "All under the sky there
is one breath of life, and therefore the sages prized that unity,"'
Knowledge said to Hwang-Ti,
'I asked Dumb Inaction, and he did not
answer me. Not only did he not answer me, but he did not know how to answer
me. I asked Heedless Blurter, and while he wanted to tell me, he yet did not
do so. Not only did he not tell me, but while he wanted to tell me, he
forgot all about my questions. Now I have asked you, and you knew (all about
them); —why (do you say that) you are not near doing so?'
Hwang-Ti replied,
'Dumb Inaction was truly right, because he
did not know the thing. Heedless Blurter was nearly right, because he forgot
it. I and you are not nearly right, because we know it.'
Heedless Blurter heard of (all this), and
considered that Hwang-Ti knew how to express himself (on the subject).
2:
(The operations of) Heaven and Earth proceed in the most admirable way,
but they say nothing about them; the four seasons observe the clearest laws,
but they do not discuss them; all things have their complete and distinctive
constitutions, but they say nothing about them.
The sages trace out the admirable
operations of Heaven and Earth, and reach to and understand the distinctive
constitutions of all things; and thus it is that the Perfect Man (is said
to) do nothing and the Greatest Sage to originate nothing, such language
showing that they look to Heaven and Earth as their model. Even they, with
their spirit-like and most exquisite intelligence, as well as all the tribes
that undergo their transformations, the dead and the living, the square and
the round, do not understand their root and origin, but nevertheless they
all from the oldest time by it preserve their being.
Vast as is the space included within the
six cardinal points, it all (and all that it contains) lies within (this
twofold root of Heaven and Earth); small as is an autumn hair, it is
indebted to this for the completion of its form. All things beneath the sky,
now rising, now descending, ever continue the same through this. The Yin and
Yang, and the four seasons revolve and move by it, each in its proper order.
Now it seems to be lost in obscurity, but it continues; now it seems to
glide away, and have no form, but it is still spirit-like. All things are
nourished by it, without their knowing it. This is what is called the Root
and Origin; by it we may obtain a view of what we mean by Heaven.
Not a few names of places in this section are metaphorical and Taoistic,
writes James Legge.
3:
Nieh Khüeh asked about the Tao from Phei-i who replied,
'If you keep your body as it should be, and
look only at the one thing, the Harmony of Heaven will come to you. Call in
your knowledge, and make your measures uniform, and the spiritual (belonging
to you) will come and lodge with you; the Attributes (of the Tao) will be
your beauty, and the Tao (itself) will be your dwelling-place. You will have
the simple look of a new-born calf, and will not seek to know the cause (of
your being what you are).'
Phei-i had not finished these words when
the other dozed off into a sleep.
Phei-i was greatly pleased, and walked
away, singing as he went,
Like stump of rotten tree his frame,
Like lime when slaked his mind became.
Real is his wisdom, solid, true,
Nor cares what's hidden to pursue.
O dim and dark his aimless mind!
No one from him can counsel find.
What sort of man is he?'
4:
Shun asked (his attendant) Keng,
'Can I get the Tao and hold it as mine?'
The reply was,
'Your body is not your own to hold; how
then can you get and hold the Tao?'
Shun resumed,
'If my body be not mine to possess and
hold, who holds it?'
Keng said,
'It is the bodily form entrusted to you by
Heaven and Earth. Life is not yours to hold. It is the blended harmony (of
the Yin and Yang), entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth. Your nature,
constituted as it is, is not yours to hold. It is entrusted to you by Heaven
and Earth to act in accordance with it. Your grandsons and sons are not
yours to hold. They are the exuviae entrusted to you by Heaven and Earth.
Therefore when we walk, we should not know where we are going; when we stop
and rest, we should not know what to occupy ourselves with when we eat, we
should not know the taste of our food; —all is done by the strong Yang
influence of Heaven and Earth. How then can you get (the Tao), and hold it
as your own?'
5:
Confucius asked Lao Tan, saying,
'Being at leisure today, I venture to ask
you about the Perfect Tao.'
Lao Tan replied,
'You must, as by fasting and vigil, clear
and purge your mind, wash your spirit white as snow, and sternly repress
your knowledge. The subject of the Tao is deep, and difficult to describe;
—I will give you an outline of its simplest attributes.
'The Luminous was produced from the
Obscure; the Multiform from the Unembodied; the Spiritual from the Tao; and
the bodily from the seminal essence. After this all things produced one
another from their bodily organisations. Thus it is that those which have
nine apertures are born from the womb, and those with eight from eggs
But their coming leaves no trace, and their
going no monument; they enter by no door; they dwell in no apartment:—they
are in a vast arena reaching in all directions. They who search for and find
(the Tao) in this are strong in their limbs, sincere and far-reaching in
their thinking, acute in their hearing, and clear in their seeing. They
exercise their minds without being toiled; they respond to everything aright
without regard to place or circumstance. Without this heaven would not be
high, nor earth broad; the sun and moon would not move, and nothing would
flourish:—such is the operation of the Tao.
'Moreover, the most extensive knowledge
does not necessarily know it; reasoning will not make men wise in it; —the
sages have decided against both these methods. However you try to add to it,
it admits of no increase; however you try to take from it, it admits of no
diminution; —this is what the sages maintain about it. How deep it is, like
the sea! How grand it is, beginning again when it has come to an end! If it
carried along and sustained all things, without being overburdened or weary,
that would be like the way of the superior man, merely an external
operation; when all things go to it, and find their dependence in it; —this
is the true character of the Tao.
'Here is a man (born) in one of the middle
states. He feels himself independent both of the Yin and Yang, and dwells
between heaven and earth; only for the present a mere man, but he will
return to his original source. Looking at him in his origin, when his life
begins, we have (but) a gelatinous substance in which the breath is
collecting. Whether his life be long or his death early, how short is the
space between them! It is but the name for a moment of time, insufficient to
play the part of a good Yao or a bad Kieh in.
'The fruits of trees and creeping plants
have their distinctive characters, and though the relationships of men,
according to which they are classified, are troublesome, the sage, when he
meets with them, does not set himself in opposition to them, and when he has
passed through them, he does not seek to retain them; he responds to them in
their regular harmony according to his virtue; and even when he accidentally
comes across any of them, he does so according to the Tao. It was thus that
the Tis flourished, thus that the kings arose.
'Men's life between heaven and earth is
like a white colt's passing a crevice, and suddenly disappearing. As with a
plunge and an effort they all come forth; easily and quietly they all enter
again. By a transformation they live, and by another transformation they
die. Living things are made sad (by death), and mankind grieve for it; but
it is (only) the removal of the bow from its sheath, and the emptying the
natural satchel of its contents. There may be some confusion amidst the
yielding to the change; but the intellectual and animal souls are taking
their leave, and the body will follow them:—This is the Great Returning
home.
'That the bodily frame came from
incorporeity, and will return to the same, is what all men in common know,
and what those who are on their way to (know) it need not strive for. This
is what the multitudes of men discuss together. Those whose (knowledge) is
complete do not discuss it; —such discussion shows that their (knowledge) is
not complete. Even the most clear-sighted do not meet (with the Tao); —it is
better to be silent than to reason about it. The Tao cannot be heard with
the ears; —it is better to shut the ears than to try and hear it. This is
what is called the Great Attainment.'
6:
Master Tung-kwo asked Master Chuang, saying,
'Where is what you call the Tao to be
found?'
Master Chuang replied,
'Everywhere.'
The other said,
'Specify an instance of it. That will be
more satisfactory.'
'It is here in this ant.'
'Give a lower instance.'
'It is in this panic grass.'
'Give me a still lower instance.'
'It is in this earthenware tile.'
'Surely that is the lowest instance?'
'It is in that excrement.'
To this Master Tung-kwo answered nothing.
Master Chuang said,
'Your questions, my master, do not touch
the fundamental point (of the Tao). They remind me of the questions
ad-dressed by the superintendents of the market to the inspector about
examining the value of a pig by treading on it, and testing its weight as
the foot descends lower and lower on the body. You should not specify any
particular thing. There is not a single thing without (the Tao). So it is
with the Perfect Tao. And if we call it the Great (Tao), it is just the
same. There are the three terms,—"Complete," "All-embracing," "the Whole."
These names are different, but the reality (sought in them) is the same
referring to the One thing.
'Suppose we were to try to roam about in
the palace of No-where; —when met there, we might discuss (about the
subject) without ever coming to an end. Or suppose we were to be together in
(the region of) Non-action; —should we say that (the Tao was) Simplicity and
Stillness? or Indifference and Purity? or Harmony and Ease? My will would be
aimless. If it went nowhere, I should not know where it had got to; if it
went and came again, I should not know where it had stopped; if it went on
going and coming, I should not know when the process would end. In vague
uncertainty should I be in the vastest waste. Though I entered it with the
greatest knowledge, I should not know how inexhaustible it was. That which
makes things what they are has not the limit which belongs to things, and
when we speak of things being limited, we mean that they are so in
themselves. (The Tao) is the limit of the unlimited, and the boundlessness
of the unbounded.
'We speak of fulness and emptiness; of
withering and decay. It produces fulness and emptiness, but is neither
fulness nor emptiness; it produces withering and decay, but is neither
withering nor decay. It produces the root and branches, but is neither root
nor branch; it produces accumulation and dispersion, but is itself neither
accumulated nor dispersed.'
7:
A-ho Kan and Shän Näng studied together under Läo-lung Ki. Shän Näng was
leaning forward on his stool, having shut the door and gone to sleep in the
day time. At midday A-ho Kan pushed open the door and entered, saying,
'Lao-lung is dead.'
Shän Näng leant forward on his stool, laid
hold of his staff and rose. Then he laid the staff aside with a clash,
laughed and said,
'That Heaven knew how cramped and mean, how
arrogant and assuming I was, and therefore he has cast me off, and is dead.
Now that there is no Master to correct my heedless words, it is simply for
me to die!' Yen Kang, (who had come in) to condole, heard these words, and
said,
'It is to him who embodies the Tao that the
superior men everywhere cling. Now you who do not understand so much as the
tip of an autumn hair of it, not even the ten-thousandth part of the Tao,
still know how to keep hidden your heedless words about it and die; —how
much more might he who embodied the Tao do so! We look for it, and there is
no form; we hearken for it, and there is no sound. When men try to discuss
it, we call them dark indeed. When they discuss the Tao, they misrepresent
it.'
Hereupon Grand Purity asked Infinitude,
saying,
'Do you know the Tao?'
'I do not know it,' was the reply. He then
asked Do-nothing, who replied,
'I know it.'
'Is your knowledge of it determined by
various points?'
'It is.'
'What are they?'
Do-nothing said,
'I know that the Tao may be considered
noble, and may be considered mean, that it may be bound and compressed, and
that it may be dispersed and diffused. These are the marks by which I know
it.'
Grand Purity took the words of those two,
and asked No-beginning, saying,
'Such were their replies; which was right?
and which was wrong? Infinitude's saying that he did not know it? or
Do-nothing's saying that he knew it?'
No-beginning said,
'The "I do not know it" was profound, and
the "I know it" was shallow. The former had reference to its internal
nature; the latter to its external conditions. Grand Purity looked up and
sighed, saying,
'Is "not to know it" then to know it? And
is "to know it" not to know it? But who knows that he who does not know it
(really) knows it?'
No-beginning replied,
'The Tao cannot be heard; what can be heard
is not It. The Tao cannot be seen; what can be seen is not It. The Tao
cannot be expressed in words; what can be expressed in words is not It. Do
we know the Formless which gives form to form? In the same way the Tao does
not admit of being named.'
No-beginning (further) said,
'If one ask about the Tao and another
answer him, neither of them knows it. Even the former who asks has never
learned anything about the Tao. He asks what does not admit of being asked,
and the latter answers where answer is impossible. When one asks what does
not admit of being asked, his questioning is in (dire) extremity. When one
answers where answer is impossible, he has no internal knowledge of the
subject. When people without such internal knowledge wait to be questioned
by others in dire extremity, they show that externally they see nothing of
space and time, and internally know nothing of the Grand Commencement.
Therefore they cannot cross over the Kun-lun, nor roam in the Grand Void.'
8:
Starlight [the points of light all over the sky] asked Non-entity,
saying,
'Master, do you exist? Or Don't you exist?'
He got no answer to his question, however,
and looked stedfastly to the appearance of the other, which was that of a
deep void. All day long he looked to it, but could see nothing; he listened
for it, but could hear nothing; he clutched at it, but got hold of nothing.
Starlight then said,
'Perfect! Who can attain to this? I can
(conceive the ideas of) existence and non-existence, but I cannot (conceive
the ideas of) non-existing non-existence, and still there be a non-existing
existence. How is it possible to reach to this?'
9:
The forger of swords for the Minister of War had reached the age of
eighty, and had not lost a hair's-breadth of his ability. The Minister said
to him,
'You are indeed skilful, Sir. Have you any
method that makes you so?'
The man said,
'Your servant has (always) kept to his
work. When I was twenty, I was fond of forging swords. I looked at nothing
else. I paid no attention to anything but swords. By my constant practice of
it, I came to be able to do the work without any thought of what I was
doing. By length of time one acquires ability at any art; and how much more
one who is ever at work on it! What is there which does not depend on this,
and succeed by it?'
10:
Zän Khiu asked Kung-ni, saying,
'Can it be known how it was before heaven
and earth?'
The reply was,
'It can. It was the same of old as now.'
Zän Khiu asked no more and withdrew. Next
day, however, he had another interview, and said,
'Yesterday I asked whether it could be
known how it was before heaven and earth, and you, Master, said, "It can. As
it is now, so it was of old." Yesterday, I seemed to understand you clearly,
but today it is dark to me. I venture to ask you for an explanation of
this.'
Kung-ni said,
'Yesterday you seemed to understand me
clearly, because your own spiritual nature had anticipated my reply. Today
it seems dark to you, for you are in an unspiritual mood, and are trying to
discover the meaning. (In this matter) there is no old time and no present;
no beginning and no ending. Could it be that there were grandchildren and
children before there were (other) grandchildren and children?'
Zän Khiu had not made any reply, when Kung-ni
went on,
'Let us have done. There can be no
answering (on your part). We cannot with life give life to death; we cannot
with death give death to life. Do death and life wait (for each other)?
There is that which contains them both in its one comprehension. Was that
which was produced before Heaven and Earth a thing? That which made things
and gave to each its character was not itself a thing. Things came forth and
could not be before things, as if there had (previously) been things; —as if
there had been things (producing one another) without end. The love of the
sages for others, and never coming to an end, is an idea taken from this.'
11:
Yen Yü an asked Kung-ni, saying,
'Master, I have heard you say, "There
should be no demonstration of welcoming; there should be no movement to
meet; "—I venture to ask in what way this affection of the mind may be
shown.'
The reply was,
'The ancients, amid (all) external changes,
did not change internally; now-a-days men change internally, but take no
note of external changes. When one only notes the changes of things, himself
continuing one and the same, he does not change. How should there be (a
difference between) his changing and not changing? How should he put himself
in contact with (and come under the influence of) those external changes? He
is sure, however, to keep his points of contact with them from being many.
The park of Shih-wei, the garden of Hwang-Ti, the palace of the Lord of Yü,
and the houses of Tang and Wu; —(these all were places in which this was
done). But the superior men (so called, of later days), such as the masters
of the Literati and of Mohism, were bold to attack each other with their
controversies; and how much more so are the men of the present day! Sages in
dealing with others do not wound them; and they who do not wound others
cannot be wounded by them. Only he whom others do not injure is able to
welcome and meet men.
'Forests and marshes make me joyful and
glad; but before the joy is ended, sadness comes and succeeds to it. When
sadness and joy come, I cannot prevent their approach; when they go, I
cannot retain them. How sad it is that men should only be as lodging-houses
for things, (and the emotions which they excite)! They know what they meet,
but they do not know what they do not meet; they use what power they have,
but they cannot be strong where they are powerless. Such ignorance and
powerlessness is what men cannot avoid. That they should try to avoid what
they cannot avoid, is not this also sad? Perfect speech is to put speech
away; perfect action is to put action away; to digest all knowledge that is
known is a thing to be despised.'
1:
Among the disciples of Lao Tan there was a Käng-sang Ku, who had got a
greater knowledge than the others of his doctrines, and took up his
residence with it in the north at the hill of Wei-lêi. His servants who were
pretentious and knowing he sent away, and his concubines who were officious
and kindly he kept at a distance; living (only) with those who were boorish
and rude, and employing (only) the bustling and ill-mannered. After three
years there was great prosperity in Wei-lêi, and the people said to one
another,
'When Mr. Käng-sang first came here, he
alarmed us, and we thought him strange; our estimate of him after a short
acquaintance was that he could not do us much good; but now that we have
known him for years, we find him a more than ordinary benefit. Must he not
be near being a sage? Why should you not unite in blessing him as the
representative of our departed (whom we worship), and raise an altar to him
as we do to the spirit of the grain?'
Käng-sang heard of it, kept his face indeed
to the south but was dissatisfied.
His disciples thought it strange in him,
but he said to them,
'Why, my disciples, should you think this
strange in me? When the airs of spring come forth, all vegetation grows;
and, when the autumn arrives, all the previous fruits of the earth are
matured. Do spring and autumn have these effects without any adequate cause?
The processes of the Great Tao have been in operation. I have heard that the
Perfect man dwells idly in his apartment within its surrounding walls, and
the people get wild and crazy, not knowing how they should repair to him.
Now these small people of Wei-lêi in their opinionative way want to present
their offerings to me, and place me among such men of ability and virtue.
But am I a man to be set up as such a model? It is on this account that I am
dissatisfied when I think of the words of Lao Tan.'
2:
His disciples said,
'Not so. In ditches eight cubits wide, or
even twice as much, big fishes cannot turn their bodies about, but minnows
and eels find them sufficient for them; on hillocks six or seven cubits
high, large beasts cannot conceal themselves, but foxes of evil omen find it
a good place for them. And moreover, honour should be paid to the wise,
offices given to the able, and preference shown to the good and the
beneficial. From of old Yao and Shun acted thus; —how much more may the
people of Wei-lêi do so! O Master, let them have their way!'
Käng-sang replied,
'Come nearer, my little children. If a
beast that could hold a carriage in its mouth leave its hill by itself, it
will not escape the danger that awaits it from the net; or if a fish that
could swallow a boat be left dry by the flowing away of the water, then
(even) the ants are able to trouble it. Thus it is that birds and beasts
seek to be as high as possible, and fishes and turtles seek to lie as deep
as possible. In the same way men who wish to preserve their bodies and lives
keep their persons concealed, and they do so in the deepest retirement
possible. And moreover, what was there in those sovereigns to entitle them
to your laudatory mention? Their sophistical reasonings (resembled) the
reckless breaking down of walls and enclosures and planting the wild rub us
and wormwood in their place; or making the hair thin before they combed it;
or counting the grains of rice before they cooked them. They would do such
things with careful discrimination; but what was there in them to benefit
the world? If you raise the men of talent to office, you will create
disorder; making the people strive with one another for promotion; if you
employ men for their wisdom, the people will rob one another (of their
reputation). These various things are insufficient to make the people good
and honest. They are very eager for gain; —a son will kill his father, and a
minister his ruler (for it). In broad daylight men will rob, and at midday
break through walls. I tell you that the root of the greatest disorder was
planted in the times of Yao and Shun. The branches of it will remain for a
thousand ages; and after a thousand ages men will be found eating one
another.'
3:
(On this) Nan-yung Ku abruptly sat right up and said,
'What method can an old man like me adopt
to become (the Perfect man) that you have described?'
Master Käng-sang said,
'Maintain your body complete; hold your
life in close embrace; and do not let your thoughts keep working
anxiously:—do this for three years, and you may become the man of whom I
have spoken.'
The other rejoined,
'Eyes are all of the same form, I do not
know any difference between them:—yet the blind have no power of vision.
Ears are all of the same form; I do not know any difference between
them:—yet the deaf have no power of hearing. Minds are all of the same
nature, I do not know any difference between them; —yet the mad cannot make
the minds of other men their own. (My) personality is indeed like (yours),
but things seem to separate between us. I wish to find in myself what there
is in you, but I am not able to do so'. You have now said to me, "Maintain
your body complete; hold your life in close embrace; and do not let your
thoughts keep working anxiously." With all my efforts to learn your Way,
(your words) reach only my ears.'
Käng-sang replied,
'I can say nothing more to you,' and then
he added,
'Small flies cannot transform the bean
caterpillar; Yüeh fowls cannot hatch the eggs of geese, but Lu fowls can. It
is not that the nature of these fowls is different; the ability in the one
case and inability in the other arise from their different capacities as
large and small. My ability is small and not sufficient to transform you.
Why should you not go south and see Master Lao?'
4:
Nan-yung Ku hereupon took with him some rations, and after seven days and
seven nights arrived at the abode of Master Lao, who said to him,
'Are you come from Khû's?'
'I am,' was the reply.
'And why, Sir, have you come with such a
multitude of attendants?'
Nan-yung was frightened, and turned his
head round to look behind him. Master Lao said,
'Don't you understand my meaning?'
The other held his head down and was
ashamed, and then he lifted it up, and sighed, saying,
'I forgot at the moment what I should reply
to your question, and in consequence I have lost what I wished to ask you.'
'What do you mean?'
If I have not wisdom, men say that I am
stupid, while if I have it, it occasions distress to myself. If I have not
benevolence, then (I am charged) with doing hurt to others, while if I have
it, I distress myself. If I have not righteousness, I (am charged with)
injuring others, while if I have it, I distress myself. How can I escape
from these dilemmas? These are the three perplexities that trouble me; and I
wish at the suggestion of Ku to ask you about them.'
Master Lao replied,
'A little time ago, when I saw you and
looked right into your eyes, I understood you, and now your words confirm
the judgement which I formed. You look frightened and amazed. You have lost
your parents, and are trying with a pole to find them at the (bottom of) the
sea. You have gone astray; you are at your wit's end. You wish to recover
your proper nature, and you know not what step to take first to find it. You
are to be pitied!'
5:
Nan-yung Ku asked to be allowed to enter (the establishment), and have an
apartment assigned to him. (There) he sought to realise the qualities which
he loved, and put away those which he hated. For ten days he afflicted
himself, and then waited again on Master Lao, who said to him,
'You must purify yourself thoroughly! But
from your symptoms of distress, and signs of impurity about you, I see there
still seem to cling to you things that you dislike. When the fettering
influences from without become numerous, and you try to seize them (you will
find it a difficult task); the better plan is to bar your inner man against
their entrance. And when the similar influences within get intertwined, it
is a difficult task to grasp (and hold them in check); the better plan is to
bar the outer door against their exit. Even a master of the Tao and its
characteristics will not be able to control these two influences together,
and how much less can one who is only a student of the Tao do so!' Nan-yung
Ku said,
'A certain villager got an illness, and
when his neighbours asked about it, he was able to describe the malady,
though it was one from which he had not suffered before. When I ask you
about the Grand Tao, it seems to me like drinking medicine which (only
serves to) increase my illness. I should like to hear from you about the
regular method of guarding the life; —that will be sufficient for me.'
Master Lao replied,
'(You ask me about) the regular method of
guarding the life; —can you hold the One thing fast in your embrace? Can you
keep from losing it? Can you know the lucky and the unlucky without having
recourse to the tortoise-shell or the divining stalks? Can you rest (where
you ought to rest)? Can you stop (when you have got enough)? Can you give
over thinking of other men, and seek what you want in yourself (alone)? Can
you flee (from the allurements of desire)? Can you maintain an entire
simplicity? Can you become a little child? The child will cry all the day,
without its throat becoming hoarse; —so perfect is the harmony (of its
physical constitution). It will keep its fingers closed all the day without
relaxing their grasp; —such is the concentration of its powers. It will keep
its eyes fixed all day, without their moving; —so is it unaffected by what
is external to it. It walks it knows not where; it rests where it is placed,
it knows not why; it is calmly indifferent to things, and follows their
current. This is the regular method of guarding the life.'
6:
Nan-yung Ku said,
'And are these all the characteristics of
the Perfect man?'
Master Lao replied,
'No. These are what we call the breaking up
of the ice, and the dissolving of the cold. The Perfect man, along with
other men, gets his food from the earth, and derives his joy from his Heaven
(-conferred nature). But he does not like them allow himself to be troubled
by the consideration of advantage or injury coming from men and things; he
does not like them do strange things, or form plans, or enter on
undertakings; he flees from the allurements of desire, and pursues his way
with an entire simplicity. Such is the way by which he guards his life.'
'And is this what constitutes his
perfection?'
'Not quite. I asked you whether you could
become a little child. The little child moves unconscious of what it is
doing, and walks unconscious of where it is going. Its body is like the
branch of a rotten tree, and its mind is like slaked lime. Being such,
misery does not come to it, nor happiness. It has neither misery nor
happiness; —how can it suffer from the calamities incident to men?'
7:
[2] He whose mind is thus grandly fixed emits a Heavenly light. In him
who emits this heavenly light men see the (True) man. When a man has
cultivated himself (up to this point), thenceforth he remains constant in
himself. When he is thus constant in himself, (what is merely) the human
element will leave him', but Heaven will help him. Those whom their human
element has left we call the people of Heaven. Those whom Heaven helps we
call the Sons of Heaven. Those who would by learning attain to this seek for
what they cannot learn. Those who would by effort attain to this, attempt
what effort can never effect. Those who aim by reasoning to reach it reason
where reasoning has no place. To know to stop where they cannot arrive by
means of knowledge is the highest attainment. Those who cannot do this will
be destroyed on the lathe of Heaven.
8:
Where things are all adjusted to maintain the body; where a provision
against unforeseen dangers is kept up to maintain the life of the mind;
where an inward reverence is cherished to be exhibited (in all intercourse)
with others; —where this is done, and yet all evils arrive, they are from
Heaven, and not from the men themselves. They will not be sufficient to
confound the established (virtue of the character), or be admitted into the
Tower of Intelligence. That Tower has its Guardian, who acts unconsciously,
and whose care will not be effective, if there be any conscious purpose in
it. If one who has not this entire sincerity in himself make any outward
demonstration, every such demonstration will be incorrect. The thing will
enter into him, and not let go its hold. Then with every fresh demonstration
there will be still greater failure. If he do what is not good in the light
of open day, men will have the opportunity of punishing him; if he do it in
darkness and secrecy, spirits Will inflict the punishment. Let a man
understand this—his relation both to men and spirits, and then he will do
what is good in the solitude of himself.
He whose rule of life is in himself does
not act for the sake of a name. He whose rule is outside himself has his
will set on extensive acquisition. He who does not act for the sake of a
name emits a light even in his ordinary conduct; he whose will is set on
extensive acquisition is but a trafficker. Men see how he stands on tiptoe,
while he thinks that he is overtopping others. Things enter (and take
possession of) him who (tries to) make himself exhaustively (acquainted with
them), while when one is indifferent to them, they do not find any lodgment
in his person. And how can other men find such lodgment? But when one denies
lodgment to men, there are none who feel attachment to him. In this
condition he is cut off from other men. There is no weapon more deadly than
the will; —even Mu-yê was inferior to it. There is no robber greater than
the Yin and Yang, from whom nothing can escape of all between heaven and
earth. But it is not the Yin and Yang that play the robber; —it is the mind
that causes them to do so.
9:
The Tao is to be found in the subdivisions (of its subject); (it is to be
found) in that when complete, and when broken up. What I dislike in
considering it as subdivided, is that the division leads to the
multiplication of it; —and what I dislike in that multiplication is that it
leads to the (thought of) effort to secure it. Therefore when (a man) comes
forth (and is born), if he did not return (to his previous non-existence),
we should have (only) seen his ghost; when he comes forth and gets this
(return), he dies (as we say). He is extinguished, and yet has a real
existence:—this is another way of saying that in life we have) only man's
ghost. By taking the material as an emblem of the immaterial do we arrive at
a settlement of the case of man. He comes forth, but from no root; he
reenters, but by no aperture. He has a real existence. but it has nothing to
do with place; he has continuance, but it has nothing to do with beginning
or end. He has a real existence, but it has nothing to do with place, such
is his relation to space; he has continuance, but it has nothing to do with
beginning or end, such is his relation to time; he has life; he has death;
he comes forth; he enters; but we do not see his form; —all this is what is
called the door of Heaven. The door of Heaven is Non-Existence. All things
come from non-existence. The (first) existences could not bring themselves
into existence; they must have come from non-existence. And non-existence is
just the same as non-existing. Herein is the secret of the sages.
10:
Among the ancients there were those whose knowledge reached the extreme
point. And what was that point? There were some who thought that in the
beginning there was nothing. This was the extreme point, the completest
reach of their knowledge, to which nothing could be added. Again, there were
those who supposed that (in the beginning) there were existences, proceeding
to consider life to be a (gradual) perishing, and death a returning (to the
original state). And there they stopped, making, (however), a distinction
between life and death. Once again there were those who said,
'In the beginning there was nothing; by and
by there was life; and then in a little time life was succeeded by death. We
hold that non-existence was the head, life the body, and death the os
coccygis. But of those who acknowledge that existence and nonexistence,
death and life, are all under the One Keeper, we are the friends.'
Though those who maintained these three
views were different, they were so as the different branches of the same
ruling Family (of Ku),—the Kâos and the Kings, bearing the surname of
the lord whom they honoured as the author of their branch, and the Kiâs
named from their appanage; —(all one, yet seeming) not to be one.
The possession of life is like the soot
that collects under a boiler. When that is differently distributed, the life
is spoken of as different. But to say that life is different in different
lives, and better in one than in another, is an improper mode of speech. And
yet there may be something here which we do not know. (As for instance), at
the lâsacrifice the paunch and the divided hoofs may be set forth on
separate dishes, but they should not be considered as parts of different
victims; (and again), when one is inspecting a house, he goes over it all,
even the adytum for the shrines of the temple, and visits also the most
private apartments; doing this, and setting a different estimate on the
different parts.
Let me try and speak of this method of
apportioning one's approval:—life is the fundamental consideration in it;
knowledge is the instructor. From this they multiply their approvals and
disapprovals, determining what is merely nominal and what is real. They go
on to conclude that to themselves must the appeal be made in everything, and
to try to make others adopt them as their model; prepared even to die to
make good their views on every point. In this way they consider being
employed in office as a mark of wisdom, and not being so employed as a mark
of stupidity, success as entitling to fame, and the want of it as
disgraceful. The men of the present day who follow this differentiating
method are like the cicada and the little dove; —there is no difference
between them.
11:
When one treads on the foot of another in the market-place, he apologises
on the ground of the bustle. If an elder tread on his younger brother, he
proceeds to comfort him; if a parent tread on a child, he says and does
nothing. Hence it is said,
'The greatest politeness is to show no
special respect to others; the greatest righteousness is to take no account
of things; the greatest wisdom is to lay no plans; the greatest benevolence
is to make no demonstration of affection; the greatest good faith is to give
no pledge of sincerity.'
Repress the impulses of the will; unravel
the errors of the mind; put away the entanglements to virtue; and clear away
all that obstructs the free course of the Tao. Honours and riches,
distinctions and austerity, fame and profit; these six things produce the
impulses of the will. Personal appearance and deportment, the desire of
beauty and subtle reasonings, excitement of the breath and cherished
thoughts; these six things produce errors of the mind. Hatred and longings,
joy and anger, grief and delight; these six things are the entanglements to
virtue. Refusals and approachments, receiving and giving, knowledge and
ability; these six things obstruct the course of the Tao. When these four
conditions, with the six causes of each, do not agitate the breast, the mind
is correct. Being correct, it is still; being still, it is pellucid; being
pellucid, it is free from pre-occupation; being free from pre-occupation, it
is in the state of inaction, in which it accomplishes everything.
The Tao is the object of reverence to all
the virtues. Life is what gives opportunity for the display of the virtues.
The nature is the substantive character of the life. The movement of the
nature is called action. When action becomes hypocritical, we say that it
has lost (its proper attribute).
The wise communicate with what is external
to them and are always laying plans. This is what with all their wisdom they
are not aware of; —they look at things askance. When the action (of the
nature) is from external constraint, we have what is called virtue; when it
is all one's own, we have what is called government. These two names seem to
be opposite to each other, but in reality they are in mutual accord.
12:
Î was skilful in hitting the minutest mark, but stupid in wishing men to
go on praising him without end. The sage is skilful Heavenwards, but stupid
manwards. It is only the complete man who can be both skilful Heavenwards
and good manwards.
Only an insect can play the insect, only an
insect show the insect nature. Even the complete man hates the attempt to
exemplify the nature of Heaven. He hates the manner in which men do so, and
how much more would he hate the doing so by himself before men!
When a bird came in the way of Î, he was
sure to obtain it; —such was his mastery with his bow. If all the world were
to be made a cage, birds would have nowhere to escape to. Thus it was that
Tang caged Î Yin by making him his cook, and that duke Mu of Khin caged
Pâi-li Hsi by giving the skins of five rams for him. But if you try to cage
men by anything but what they like, you will never succeed.
A man, one of whose feet has been cut off,
discards ornamental (clothes); —his outward appearance will not admit of
admiration. A criminal under sentence of death will ascend to any height
without fear; —he has ceased to think of life or death.
When one persists in not reciprocating the
gifts (of friendship), he forgets all others. Having forgotten all others,
he may be considered as a Heaven-like man. Therefore when respect is shown
to a man, and it awakens in him no joy, and when contempt awakens no anger,
it is only one who shares in the Heaven-like harmony that can be thus. When
he would display anger and yet is not angry, the anger comes out in that
repression of it. When he would put forth action, and yet does not do so,
the action is in that not-acting. Desiring to be quiescent, he must pacify
all his emotions; desiring to be spirit-like, he must act in conformity with
his mind. When action is required of him, he wishes that it may be right;
and it then is under an inevitable constraint. Those who act according to
that inevitable constraint pursue the way of the sage.
1:
Hsü Wu-kwei having obtained through Nü Shang an introduction to the
marquis Wu of Wei, the marquis, speaking to him with kindly sympathy, said,
'You are ill, Sir; you have suffered from
your hard and laborious toils in the forests, and still you have been
willing to come and see poor me.'
Hsü Wu-kwei replied,
'It is I who have to comfort your lordship;
what occasion have you to comfort me? If your lordship go on to fill up the
measure of your sensual desires, and to prolong your likes and dislikes,
then the condition of your mental nature will be diseased, and if you
discourage and repress those desires, and deny your likings and dislikings,
that will be an affliction to your ears and eyes (deprived of their
accustomed pleasures); —it is for me to comfort your lordship, what occasion
have you to comfort me?'
The marquis looked contemptuous, and made
no reply.
After a little time, Hsü Wu-kwei said,
'Let me tell your lordship something:—I
look at dogs and judge of them by their appearance. One of the lowest
quality seizes his food, satiates himself, and stops; —he has the attributes
of a fox. One of a medium quality seems to be looking at the sun. One of the
highest quality seems to have forgotten the one thing,—himself. But I judge
still better of horses than I do of dogs. When I do so, I find that one goes
straightforward, as if following a line; that another turns off, so as to
describe a hook; that a third describes a square as if following the measure
so called; and that a fourth describes a circle as exactly as a compass
would make it. These are all horses of a state; but they are not equal to a
horse of the kingdom. His qualities are complete. Now he looks anxious; now
to be losing the way; now to be forgetting himself. Such a horse prances
along, or rushes on, spurning the dust and not knowing where he is.'
The marquis was greatly pleased and
laughed.
When Hsü Wu-kwei came out, Nü Shang said to
him,
'How was it, Sir, that you by your counsels
produced such an effect on our ruler? In my counsellings of him, now
indirectly, taking my subjects from the Books of Poetry, History, Rites, and
Music; now directly, from the Metal Tablets, and the six Bow-cases, all
calculated for the service (of the state), and to be of great benefit; —in
these counsellings, repeated times without number, I have never seen the
ruler show his teeth in a smile:—by what counsels have you made him so
pleased today?'
Hsü Wu-kwei replied,
'I only told him how I judged of dogs and
horses by looking at their appearance.'
'So?' said Nü Shang, and the other
rejoined,
'Have you not heard of the wanderer from
Yüeh? when he had been gone from the state several days, he was glad when he
saw any one whom he had seen in it; when he had been gone a month, he was
glad when he saw any one whom he had known in it; and when he had been gone
a round year, he was glad when he saw any one who looked like a native of
it. The longer he was gone, the more longingly did he think of the people;
—was it not so? The men who withdraw to empty valleys, where the hellebore
bushes stop up the little paths made by the weasels, as they push their way
or stand amid the waste, are glad when they seem to hear the sounds of human
footsteps; and how much more would they be so, if it were their brothers and
relatives talking and laughing by their side! How long it is since the words
of a True man were heard as he talked and laughed by our ruler's side!'
2:
At (another) interview of Hsü Wu-kwei with the marquis Wu, the latter
said,
'You, Sir, have been dwelling in the
forests for a long time, living on acorns and chestnuts, and satiating
yourself with onions and chives, without thinking of poor me. Now (that you
are here), is it because you are old? or because you wish to try again the
taste of wine and meat? or because (you wish that) I may enjoy the happiness
derived from the spirits of the altars of the Land and Grain?'
Hsü Wu-kwei replied,
'I was born in a poor and mean condition,
and have never presumed to drink of your lordship's wine, or eat of your
meat. My object in coming was to comfort your lordship under your troubles.'
'What? comfort me under my troubles?'
'Yes, to comfort both your lordship's
spirit and body.'
The marquis said,
'What do you mean?'
His visitor replied,
'Heaven and Earth have one and the same
purpose in the production (of all men). However high one man be exalted, he
should not think that he is favourably dealt with; and however low may be
the position of another, he should not think that he is unfavourably dealt
with. You are indeed the one and only lord of the 10,000 chariots (of your
state), but you use your dignity to embitter (the lives of) all the people,
and to pamper your cars, eyes, nose, and mouth. But your spirit does not
acquiesce in this. The spirit (of man) loves to be in harmony with others
and hates selfish indulgence. This selfish indulgence is a disease, and
therefore I would comfort you under it. How is it that your lordship more
than others brings this disease on yourself?'
The marquis said,
'I have wished to see you, Sir, for a long
time. I want to love my people, and by the exercise of righteousness to make
an end of war; —will that be enough?'
Hsü Wu-kwei replied,
'By no means. To love the people is the
first step to injure them'. By the exercise of righteousness to make an end
of war is the root from which war is produced'. If your lordship try to
accomplish your object in this way, you are not likely to succeed. All
attempts to accomplish what we think good (with an ulterior end) is a bad
contrivance. Although your lordship practise benevolence and righteousness
(as you propose), it will be no better than hypocrisy. You may indeed assume
the (outward) form, but successful accomplishment will lead to (inward)
contention, and the change thence arising will produce outward fighting.
Your lordship also must not mass files of soldiers in the passages of your
galleries and towers, nor have footmen and horsemen in the apartments about
your altars. Do not let thoughts contrary to your success lie hidden in your
mind; do not think of conquering men by artifice, or by (skilful) plans, or
by fighting. If I kill the officers and people of another state, and annex
its territory, to satisfy my selfish desires, while in my spirit I do not
know whether the fighting be good, where is the victory that I gain? Your
lordship's best plan is to abandon (your purpose). If you will cultivate in
your breast the sincere purpose (to love the people), and so respond to the
feeling of Heaven and Earth, and not (further) vex yourself, then your
people will already have- escaped death; —what occasion will your lordship
have to make an end of war?'
3:
Hwang-Ti was going to see Tâ-kwei at the hill of Kü-zhze. Fang Ming was
acting as charioteer, and Khang Yü was occupying the third place in the
carriage. Kang Zo and Hsi Phäng went before the horses; and Kun Hwun and Ku
Khi followed the carriage. When they arrived at the wild of Hsiang-khäng,
the seven sages were all perplexed, and could find no place at which to ask
the way. just then they met with a boy tending some horses, and asked the
way of him.
'Do you know,' they said, 'the hill of
Kü-zhze?'
He replied that he did. He also said that
he knew where Tâ-kwei was living.
'A strange boy is this!' said Hwang-Ti. 'He
not only knows the hill of Kü-zhze, but he also knows where Tâ-kwei is
living. Let me ask him about the government of mankind.'
The boy said,
'The administration of the kingdom is like
this (which I am doing); —what difficulty should there be in it? When I was
young, I enjoyed myself roaming over all within the six confines of the
world of space, and then I began to suffer from indistinct sight. A wise
elder taught me, saying, "Ride in the chariot of the sun, and roam in the
wild of Hsiang-Keng." Now the trouble in my eyes is a little better, and I
am again enjoying myself roaming outside the six confines of the world of
space. As to the government of the kingdom, it is like this (which I am
doing); what difficulty should there be in it?'
Hwang-Ti said,
'The administration of the world is indeed
not your business, my son. Nevertheless, I beg to ask you about it.'
The little lad declined to answer, but on
Hwang-Ti putting the question again, he said,
'In what does the governor of the kingdom
differ from him who has the tending of horses, and who has only to put away
whatever in him would injure the horses?'
Hwang-Ti bowed to him twice with his head
to the ground, called him his 'Heavenly Master,' and withdrew.
4:
If officers of wisdom do not see the changes which their anxious thinking
has suggested, they have no joy; if debaters are not able to set forth their
views in orderly style, they have no joy; if critical examiners find no
subjects on which to exercise their powers of vituperation, they have no
joy:—they are all hampered by external restrictions.
Those who try to attract the attention of
their age (wish to) rise at court; those who try to win the regard of the
people count holding office a glory; those who possess muscular strength
boast of doing what is difficult; those who are bold and daring exert
themselves in times of calamity; those who are able swordmen and spearmen
delight in fighting; those whose powers are decayed seek to rest in the name
(they have gained); those who are skilled in the laws seek to enlarge the
scope of government; those who are proficient in ceremonies and music pay
careful attention to their deportment; and those who profess benevolence and
righteousness value opportunities (for displaying them).
The husbandmen who do not keep their fields
well weeded are not equal to their business, nor are traders who do not
thrive in the markets. When the common people have their appropriate
employment morning and evening, they stimulate one another to diligence; the
mechanics who are masters of their implements feel strong for their work. If
their wealth does not increase, the greedy are distressed; if their power
and influence is not growing, the ambitious are sad.
Such creatures of circumstance and things
delight in changes, and if they meet with a time when they can show what
they can do, they cannot keep themselves from taking advantage of it. They
all pursue their own way like (the seasons of) the year, and do not change
as things do. They give the reins to their bodies and natures, and allow
themselves to sink beneath (the pressure of) things, and all their lifetime
do not come back (to their proper selves):—is it not sad?
5:
Master Chuang said,
'An archer, without taking aim beforehand,
yet may hit the mark. If we say that he is a good archer, and that all the
world may be is Îs, is this allowable?'
Master Hui replied,
'It is.'
Master Chuang continued,
'All men do not agree in counting the same
thing to be right, but every one maintains his own view to be right; (if we
say) that all men may be Yaos, is this allowable?'
Master Hui (again) replied,
'It is.'
And Master Chuang went on,
'Very well; there are the literati, the
followers of Mo (Ti), of Yang (Ku), and of Ping; —making four (different
schools). Including yourself, Master, there are five. Which of your views is
really right? Or will you take the position of La Kü? One of his disciples
said to him, "Master, I have got hold of your method. I can in winter heat
the furnace under my tripod, and in summer can produce ice." Lu Kü said,
"That is only with the Yang element to call out the same, and with the Yin
to call out the yin; —that is not my method. I will show you what my method
is." On this he tuned two citherns, placing one of them in the hall, and the
other in one of the inner apartments. Striking the note Kung in the one, the
same note vibrated in the other, and so it was with the note Kio; the two
instruments being tuned in the same way. But if he had differently tuned
them on other strings different from the normal arrangement of the five
notes, the five-and-twenty strings would all have vibrated, without any
difference of their notes, the note to which he had tuned them ruling and
guiding all the others. Is your maintaining your view to be right just like
this?'
Master Hui replied,
'Here now are the literati, and the
followers of Mo, Yang, and Ping. Suppose that they have come to dispute with
me. They put forth their conflicting statements; they try vociferously to
put me down; but none of them have ever proved me wrong —what do you say to
this?'
Master Chuang said,
'There was a man of Khi who cast away his
son in Sung to be a gatekeeper there, and thinking nothing of the mutilation
lie would incur; the same man, to secure one of his sacrificial vessels or
bells, would have it strapped and secured, while to find his son who was
lost, he would not go out of the territory of his own state:—so forgetful
was he of the relative importance of things. If a man of Ku, going to
another state as a lame gate-keeper, at midnight, at a time when no one was
nigh, were to fight with his boatman, he would not be able to reach the
shore, and he would have done what he could to provoke the boatman's
animosity.'
6:
As Master Chuang was accompanying a funeral, when passing by the grave of
Master Hui, he looked round, and said to his attendants,
'On the top of the nose of that man of Ying
there is a (little) bit of mud like a fly's wing.'
He sent for the artisan Shih to cut it
away. Shih whirled his axe so as to produce a wind, which at once carried
off the mud entirely, leaving the nose uninjured, and the (statue of) the
man of Ying' standing undisturbed. The ruler Yüan of Sung heard of the feat,
called the artisan Shih, and said to him,
'Try and do the same thing on me.'
The artisan said,
'Your servant has been able to trim things
in that way, but the material on which I have worked has been dead for a
long time.'
Master Chuang said,
'Since the death of the Master, I have had
no material to work on. I have had no one to talk with.'
7:
Kwan Kung being ill, duke Hwan went to ask for him, and said,
'Your illness, father Kung, is very severe;
should you not speak out your mind to me? Should this prove the great
illness, to whom will it be best for me to entrust my State?'
Kwan Kung said,
'To whom does your grace wish to entrust
it?'
'To Pâo Shu-yâ,' was the reply.
'He won't do. He is an admirable officer,
pure and incorruptible, but with others who are not like himself he won't
associate. And when he once hears of another man's faults, he never forgets
them. If you employ him to administer the state, above, he will take the
leading of your Grace, and, below, he will come into collision with the
people; —in no long time you will be holding him as an offender.'
The duke said,
'Who, then, is the man?'
The reply was,
'If I must speak, there is Hsi Phäng; —he
will do. He is a man who forgets his own high position, and against whom
those below him won't revolt. He is ashamed that he is not equal to
Hwang-Ti, and pities those who are not equal to himself. Him who imparts of
his virtue to others we call a sage; him who imparts of his wealth to others
we call a man of worth. He who by his worth would preside over others, never
succeeds in winning them; he who with his worth condescends to others, never
but succeeds in winning them. Hsi Phäng has not been (much) heard of in the
state; he has not been (much) distinguished in his own clan. But as I must
speak, he is the man for you.'
8:
The king of Wu, floating about on the Kiang, (landed and) ascended the
Hill of monkeys, which all, when they saw him, scampered off in terror, and
hid themselves among the thick hazels. There was one, however, which, in an
unconcerned way, swung about on the branches, displaying its cleverness to
the king, who thereon discharged an arrow at it. With a nimble motion it
caught the swift arrow, and the king ordered his attendants to hurry forward
and shoot it; and thus the monkey was seized and killed. The king then,
looking round, said to his friend Yen Pu-i,
'This monkey made a display of its
artfulness, and trusted in its agility, to show me its arrogance; —this it
was which brought it to this fate. Take warning from it. Ah! do not by your
looks give yourself haughty airs!' Yen Pu-i, when he returned home, put
himself under the teaching of Tung Wu, to root up his pride. He put away
what he delighted in and abjured distinction. In three years the people of
the kingdom spoke of him with admiration.
9:
Nan-po Tzu Ki was seated, leaning forward on his stool, and sighing
gently as he looked up to heaven. (just then) Yen Tzu Keng came in, and
said, when he saw him,
'Master, you surpass all others. Is it
right to make your body thus like a mass of withered bones, and your mind
like so much slaked lime?'
The other said,
'I formerly lived in a grotto on a hill. At
that time Thien Ho once came to see me, and all the multitudes of Khi
congratulated him three times (on his having found the proper man). I must
first have shown myself, and so it was that he knew me; I must first have
been selling (what I had), and so it was that he came to buy. If I had not
shown what I possessed, how should he have known it; if I had not been
selling (myself), how should he have come to buy me? I pity the men who lose
themselves; I also pity the men who pity others (for not being known); and I
also pity the men who pity the men who pity those that pity others. But
since then the time is long cone by; (and so I am in the state in which you
have found me).
10:
Kung-ni, having gone to Ku, the king ordered wine to be presented to him.
Sun Shu-âo stood, holding the goblet in his hand. Î-liâo of Shih-nan, having
received (a cup), poured its contents out as a sacrificial libation, and
said,
'The men of old, on such an occasion as
this, made some speech.'
Kung-ni said,
'I have heard of speech without words; but
I have never spoken it; I will do so now. Î-liâo of Shih-nan kept (quietly)
handling his little spheres, and the difficulties between the two Houses
were resolved; Sun Shu-âo slept undisturbed on his couch, with his
(dancer's) feather in his hand, and the men of Ying enrolled themselves for
the war. I wish I had a beak three cubits long.'
In the case of those two (ministers) we
have what is called 'The Way that cannot be trodden; ' in (the case of Kung-ni)
we have what is called 'the Argument without words.'
Therefore when all attributes are
comprehended in the unity of the Tao, and speech stops at the point to which
knowledge does not reach, the conduct is complete. But where there is (not)
the unity of the Tao, the attributes cannot (always) be the same, and that
which is beyond the reach of knowledge cannot be exhibited by any reasoning.
There may be as many names as those employed by the Literati and the Mohists,
but (the result is) evil. Thus when the sea does not reject the streams that
flow into it in their eastward course, we have the perfection of greatness.
The sage embraces in his regard both Heaven and Earth; his beneficent
influence extends to all under the sky; and we do not know from whom it
comes. Therefore though when living one may have no rank, and when dead no
honorary epithet; though the reality (of what he is) may not be acknowledged
and his name not established; we have in him what is called 'The Great Man.'
A dog is not reckoned good because it barks
well; and a man is not reckoned wise because he speaks skilfully; —how much
less can he be deemed Great! If one thinks he is Great, he is not fit to be
accounted Great; —how much less is he so from the practice of the attributes
(of the Tao)! Now none are so grandly complete as Heaven and Earth; but do
they seek for anything to make them so grandly complete? He who knows this
grand completion does not seek for it; he loses nothing and abandons
nothing; he does not change himself from regard to (external) things; he
turns in on himself, and finds there an inexhaustible store; he follows
antiquity and does not feel about (for its lessons); —such is the perfect
sincerity of the Great Man.
11:
Tzu Ki had eight sons. Having arranged them before him, he called Kiu-fang
Yän, and said to him,
'Look at the physiognomy of my sons for me;
—which will be the fortunate one?'
Yän said,
'Kun is the fortunate one.'
Tzu Ki looked startled, and joyfully said,
'In what way?'
Yän replied,
'Kun will share the meals of the ruler of a
state to the end of his life.'
The father looked uneasy, burst into tears,
and said,
'What has my son done that he should come
to such a fate?'
Yin replied,
'When one shares the meals of the ruler of
a state, blessings reach to all within the three branches of his kindred,
and how much more to his father and mother! But you, Master, weep when you
hear this; —you oppose (the idea of) such happiness. It is the good fortune
of your son, and you count it his misfortune.'
Tzu Ki said,
'O Yän, what sufficient ground have you for
knowing that this will be Kun's good fortune? (The fortune) that is summed
up in wine and flesh affects only the nose and the mouth, but you are not
able to know how it will come about. I have never been a shepherd, and yet a
ewe lambed in the south-west corner of my house. I have never been fond of
hunting, and yet a quail hatched her young in the south-east corner. If
these were not prodigies, what can be accounted such? Where I wish to occupy
my mind with my son is in (the wide sphere of) heaven and earth; I wish to
seek his enjoyment and mine in (the idea of) Heaven, and our support from
the Earth. I do not mix myself up with him in the affairs (of the world);
nor in forming plans (for his advantage); nor in the practice of what is
strange. I pursue with him the perfect virtue of Heaven and Earth, and do
not allow ourselves to be troubled by outward things. I seek to be with him
in a state of undisturbed indifference, and not to practise what affairs
might indicate as likely to be advantageous. And now there is to come to us
this vulgar recompense. Whenever there is a strange realisation, there must
have been strange conduct. Danger threatens; —not through any sin of me or
of my son, but as brought about, I apprehend, by Heaven. It is this which
makes me weep!'
Not long after this, Tzu Ki sent off Kun to
go to Yen, when he was made prisoner by some robbers on the way. It would
have been difficult to sell him if he were whole and entire, and they
thought their easiest plan was to cut off (one of his) feet first. They did
so, and sold him in Khi, where he became Inspector of roads for a Mr. Khü.
Nevertheless he had flesh to eat till he died.
12:
Nieh Khüeh met Hsü Yu (on the way), and said to him,
'Where, Sir, are you going to?'
'I am fleeing from Yao,' was the reply.
'What do you mean?'
'Yao has become so bent on his benevolence
that I am afraid the world will laugh at him, and that in future ages men
will be found eating one another. Now the people are collected together
without difficulty. Love them, and they respond with affection; benefit
them, and they come to you; praise them, and they are stimulated (to please
you); make them to experience what they dislike, and they disperse. When the
loving and benefiting proceed from benevolence and righteousness, those who
forget the benevolence and righteousness, and those who make a profit of
them, are the many. In this way the practice of benevolence and
righteousness comes to be without sincerity and is like a borrowing of the
instruments with which men catch birds. In all this the one man's seeking to
benefit the world by his decisions and enactments (of such a nature) is as
if he were to cut through (the nature of all) by one operation; —Yao knows
how wise and superior men can benefit the world, but he does not also know
how they injure it. It is only those who stand outside such men that know
this.'
There are the pliable and weak; the easy
and hasty; the grasping and crooked. Those who are called the pliable and
weak learn the words of some one master, to which they freely yield their
assent, being secretly pleased with themselves, and thinking that their
knowledge is sufficient, while they do not know that they have not yet begun
(to understand) a single thing. It is this which makes them so pliable and
weak. The easy and hasty are like lice on a pig. The lice select a place
where the bristles are more wide apart, and look on it as a great palace or
a large park. The slits between the toes, the overlappings of its skin,
about its nipples and its thighs,—all these seem to them safe apartments and
advantageous places; —they do not know that the butcher one morning,
swinging about his arms, will spread the grass, and kindle the fire, so that
they and the pig will be roasted together. So do they appear and disappear
with the place where they harboured:—this is why they are called the easy
and hasty.
Of the grasping and crooked we have an
example in Shun. Mutton has no craving for ants, but ants have a craving for
mutton, for it is rank. There was a rankness about the conduct of Shun, and
the people were pleased with him. Hence when he three times changed his
residence, every one of them became a capital city. When he came to the wild
of Täng, he had 100,000 families about him. Yao having heard of the virtue
and ability of Shun, appointed him to a new and uncultivated territory,
saying,
'I look forward to the benefit of his
coming here.'
When Shun was appointed to this new
territory, his years were advanced, and his intelligence was decayed; —and
yet he could not find a place of rest or a home. This is an example of being
grasping and wayward.
Therefore (in opposition to such) the
spirit-like man dislikes the flocking of the multitudes to him. When the
multitudes come, they do not agree; and when they do not agree, no benefit
results from their coming. Hence there are none whom he brings very near to
himself, and none whom he keeps at a great distance. He keeps his virtue in
close embrace, and warmly nourishes (the spirit of) harmony, so as to be in
accordance with all men. This is called the True man . Even the knowledge of
the ant he puts away; his plans are simply those of the fishes; even the
notions of the sheep he discards. His seeing is simply that of the eye; his
hearing that of the ear; his mind is governed by its general exercises.
Being such, his course is straight and level as if marked out by a line, and
its every change is in accordance (with the circumstances of the case).
13:
The True men of old waited for the issues of events as the arrangements
of Heaven, and did not by their human efforts try to take the place of
Heaven. The True men of old (now) looked on success as life and on failure
as death; and (now) on success as death and on failure as life. The
operation of medicines will illustrate this:—there are monk's-bane, the
kieh-käng, the tribulus fruit, and china-root; each of these has the time
and case for which it is supremely suitable; and all such plants and their
suitabilities cannot be mentioned particularly. Kâu-kien took his station on
(the hill of) Kwâi-khi with 3,000 men with their buff-coats and
shields:—(his minister) Kung knew how the ruined (Yüeh) might still be
preserved, but the same man did not know the sad fate in store for himself.
Hence it is said,
'The eye of the owl has its proper fitness;
the leg of the crane has its proper limit, and to cut off any of it would
distress (the bird).'
Hence (also) it is (further) said,
'When the wind passes over it, the volume
of the river is diminished, and so it is when the sun passes over it. But
let the wind and sun keep a watch together on the river, and it won't begin
to feel that they are doing it any injury:—it relies on its springs and
flows on.'
Thus, water does its part to the ground
with undeviating exactness; and so does the shadow to the substance; and one
thing to another. Therefore there is danger from the power of vision in the
eyes, of hearing in the ears, and of the inordinate thinking of the mind;
yea, there is danger from the exercise of every power of which man's
constitution is the depository. When the danger has come to a head, it
cannot be averted, and the calamity is perpetuated, and goes on increasing.
The return from this (to a state of security) is the result of (great)
effort, and success can be attained only after a long time; and yet men
consider (their power of self-determination) as their precious
possession:—is it not sad? It is in this way that we have the ruin of states
and the slaughtering of the people without end; while no one knows how to
ask how it comes about.
14:
Therefore, the feet of man on the earth tread but on a small space, but
going on to where he has not trod before, he traverses a great distance
easily; so his knowledge is but small, but going on to what he does not
already know, he comes to know what is meant by Heaven. He knows it as The
Great Unity; The Great Mystery; The Great Illuminator; The Great Framer; The
Great Boundlessness; The Great Truth; The Great Determiner. This makes his
knowledge complete. As The Great Unity, he comprehends it; as The Great
Mystery, he unfolds it; as the Great Illuminator, he contemplates it; as the
Great Framer, it is to him the Cause of all; as the Great Boundlessness, all
is to him its embodiment; as The Great Truth, he examines it; as The Great
Determiner, he holds it fast.
Thus Heaven is to him all; accordance with
it is the brightest intelligence. Obscurity has in this its pivot; in this
is the beginning. Such being the case, the explanation of it is as if it
were no explanation; the knowledge of it is as if it were no knowledge. (At
first) he does not know it, but afterwards he comes to know it. In his
inquiries, he must not set to himself any limits, and yet he cannot be
without a limit. Now ascending, now descending, then slipping from the
grasp, (the Tao) is yet a reality, unchanged now as in antiquity, and always
without defect:—may it not be called what is capable of the greatest display
and expansion? Why should we not inquire into it? Why should we be perplexed
about it? With what does not perplex let us explain what perplexes, till we
cease to be perplexed. So may we arrive at a great freedom from all
perplexity!
1:
Zeh-yang having travelled to Ku, Î Kieh spoke of him to the king, and
then, before the king had granted him an interview, (left him, and) returned
home. Zeh-yang went to see Wang Kwo, and said to him,
'Master, why don't you mention me to the
king?'
Wang Kwo replied,
'I am not so good a person to do that as
Kung-yüeh Hsiu.'
'What sort of man is he?' asked the other,
and the reply was,
'In winter he spears turtles in the Kiang,
and in summer he rests in shady places on the mountain. When passers-by ask
him (what he is doing there), he says, "This is my abode." Since Î Kieh was
not able to induce the king to see you, how much less should I, who am not
equal to him, be able to do so! Î Kieh's character is this:—he has no (real)
virtue, but he has knowledge. If you do not freely yield yourself to him,
but employ him to carry on his spirit-like influence (with you), you will
certainly get upset and benighted in the region of riches and honours. His
help won't be of a virtuous character, but will go to make your virtue less;
—it will be like heaping on clothes in spring as a protection against cold,
or bringing back the cold winds of winter as a protection against heat (in
summer). Now the king of Ku is of a domineering presence and stern. He has
no forgiveness for offenders, but is merciless as a tiger. It is only a man
of subtle speech, or one of correct virtue, who can bend him from his
purpose.
'But the sagely man, when he is left in
obscurity, causes the members of his family to forget their poverty; and,
when he gets forward to a position of influence, causes kings and dukes to
forget their rank and emoluments, and transforms them to be humble. With the
inferior creatures, he shares their pleasures, and they enjoy themselves the
more; with other men, he rejoices in the fellowship of the Tao, and
preserves it in himself. Therefore though he may not speak, he gives them to
drink of the harmony (of his spirit). Standing in association with them, he
transforms them till they become in their feeling towards him as sons with a
father. His wish is to return to the solitude of his own mind, and this is
the effect of his occasional intercourse with them. So far-reaching is his
influence on the minds of men; and therefore I said to you. "Wait for Kung-yüeh
Hsiu .'''
2:
The sage comprehends the connexions between himself and others, and how
they all go to constitute him of one body with them, and he does not know
how it is so; —he naturally does so. In fulfilling his constitution, as
acted on and acting, he (simply) follows the direction of Heaven; and it is
in consequence of this that men style him (a sage). If he were troubled
about (the insufficiency of) his knowledge, what he did would always be but
small, and sometimes would be arrested altogether; —how would he in this
case be (the sage)? When (the sage) is born with all his excellence, it is
other men who see it for him. If they did not tell him, he would not know
that he was more excellent than others. And when he knows it, he is as if he
did not know it; when he hears it, he is as if he did not hear it. His
source of joy in it has no end, and men's admiration of him has no end; —all
this takes place naturally. The love of the sage for others receives its
name from them. If they did not tell him of it, he would not know that he
loved them; and when he knows it, he is as if he knew it not; when he hears
it, he is as if he heard it not. His love of others never has an end, and
their rest in him has also no end:—all this takes place naturally.
3:
When one sees at a distance his old country and old city, he feels a
joyous satisfaction. Though it be full of mounds and an overgrowth of trees
and grass, and when he enters it he finds but a tenth part remaining, still
he feels that satisfaction. How much more when he sees what he saw, and
hears what he heard before! All this is to him like a tower eighty cubits
high exhibited in the sight of all men.
(The sovereign) Zän-hsiang was possessed of
that central principle round which all things revolve, and by it he could
follow them to their completion. His accompanying them had neither ending
nor beginning, and was independent of impulse or time. Daily he witnessed
their changes, and himself underwent no change; and why should he not have
rested in this? If we (try to) adopt Heaven as our Master, we incapacitate
ourselves from doing so. Such endeavour brings us under the power of things.
If one acts in this way, what is to be said of him? The sage never thinks of
Heaven nor of men. He does not think of taking the initiative, nor of
anything external to himself. He moves along with his age, and does not vary
or fail. Amid all the completeness of his doings, he is never exhausted. For
those who wish to be in accord with him, what other course is there to
pursue?
When Tang got one to hold for him the reins
of government, namely, Män-yin Täng-häng, he employed him as his teacher. He
followed his master, but did not allow himself to be hampered by him, and so
he succeeded in following things to their completion. The master had the
name; but that name was a superfluous addition to his laws, and the twofold
character of his government was made apparent. Kung-ni 's 'Task your
thoughts to the utmost' was his expression of the duties of a master. Yung-khäng
said,
'Take the days away and there will be no
year; without what is internal there will be nothing external.'
4:
(King) Yung of Wei made a treaty with the marquis Thien Mâu (of Khi),
which the latter violated. The king was enraged, and intended to send a man
to assassinate him. When the Minister of War heard of it, he was ashamed,
and said (to the king),
'You are a ruler of 10,000 chariots, and by
means of a common man would avenge yourself on your enemy. I beg you to give
me, Yen, the command of 200,000 soldiers to attack him for you. I will take
captive his people and officers, halter (and lead off) his oxen and horses,
kindling a fire within him that shall burn to his backbone. I will then
storm his capital; and when he shall run away in terror, I will flog his
back and break his spine.'
Master Ki heard of this advice, and was
ashamed of it, and said (to the king),
'We have been raising the wall (of our
capital) to a height of eighty cubits, and the work has been completed. If
we now get it thrown down, it will be a painful toil to the convict
builders. It is now seven years since our troops were called out, and this
is the foundation of the royal sway. Yen would introduce disorder; —he
should not be listened to.'
Master Hwâ heard of this advice, and,
greatly disapproving of it, said (to the king),
'He who shows his skill in saying "Attack
Khi" would produce disorder; and he who shows his skill in saying "Do not
attack it" would also produce disorder. And one who should (merely) say,
"The counsellors to attack Khi and not to attack it would both produce
disorder," would himself also lead to the same result.'
The king said,
'Yes, but what am I to do?'
The reply was,
'You have only to seek for (the rule of)
the Tao (on the subject).'
Master Hui, having heard of this counsel,
introduced to the king Tâi Zin-zän, who said,
'There is the creature called a snail; does
your majesty know it?'
'I do.'
'On the left horn of the snail there is a
kingdom which is called Provocation, and on the right horn another which is
called Stupidity. These two kingdoms are continually striving about their
territories and fighting. The corpses that lie on the ground amount to
several myriads. The army of one may be defeated and put to flight, but in
fifteen days it will return.'
The king said,
'Pooh! that is empty talk!' The other
rejoined,
'Your servant begs to show your majesty its
real significance. When your majesty thinks of space—east, west, north, and
south, above and beneath—can you set any limit to it?'
'It is illimitable,' said the king; and his
visitor went on,
'Your majesty knows how to let your mind
thus travel through the illimitable, and yet (as compared with this) does it
not seem insignificant whether the kingdoms that communicate one with
another exist or not?'
The king replies,
'It does so; ' and Tâi Zin-zän said,
finally,
'Among those kingdoms, stretching one after
another, there is this Wei; in Wei there is this (city of) Liang; and in
Liang there is your majesty. Can you make any distinction between yourself,
and (the king of that kingdom of) Stupidity?'
To this the king answered,
'There is no distinction,' and his visitor
went out, while the king remained disconcerted and seemed to have lost
himself.
When the visitor was gone, Master Hui came
in and saw the king, who said,
'That stranger is a Great man. An
(ordinary) sage is not equal to him.'
Master Hui replied,
'If you blow into a flute, there come out
its pleasant notes; if you blow into a sword-hilt, there is nothing but a
wheezing sound. Yao and Shun are the subjects of men's praises, but if you
speak of them before Tai Zin-zän, there will be but the wheezing sound.'
5:
Confucius, having gone to Ku, was lodging in the house of a seller of
Congee at Ant-hill. On the roof of a neighbouring house there appeared the
husband and his wife, with their servants, male and female. Tzu-lu said,
'What are those people doing, collected
there as we see them?'
Kung-ni replied,
'The man is a disciple of the sages. He is
burying himself among the people, and hiding among the fields. Reputation
has become little in his eyes, but there is no bound to his cherished aims.
Though he may speak with his mouth, he never tells what is in his mind.
Moreover, he is at variance with the age, and his mind disdains to associate
with it; —he is one who may be said to lie hid at the bottom of the water on
the dry land. Is he not a sort of Î Liâo of Shih-nan?'
Tzu-lu asked leave to go and call him, but
Confucius said,
'Stop. He knows that I understand him well.
He knows that I am come to Ku, and thinks that I am sure to try and get the
king to invite him (to court). He also thinks that I am a man swift to
speak. Being such a man, he would feel ashamed to listen to the words of one
of voluble and flattering tongue, and how much more to come himself and see
his person! And why should we think that he will remain here?'
Tzu-lu, however, went to see how it was,
but found the house empty.
6:
The Border-warden of Khang-wu, in questioning Tzu-lâo, said,
'Let not a ruler in the exercise of his
government be (like the farmer) who leaves the clods unbroken, nor, in
regulating his people, (like one) who recklessly plucks up the shoots.
Formerly, in ploughing my corn-fields, I left the clods unbroken, and my
recompense was in the rough unsatisfactory crops; and in weeding, I
destroyed and tore up (many good plants), and my recompense was in the
scantiness of my harvests. In subsequent years I changed my methods,
ploughing deeply and carefully covering up the seed; and my harvests were
rich and abundant, so that all the year I had more than I could eat.'
When Master Chuang heard of his remarks, he
said,
'Now-a-days, most men, in attending to
their bodies and regulating their minds, correspond to the description of
the Border-warden. They hide from themselves their Heaven(-given being);
they leave (all care of) their (proper) nature; they extinguish their
(proper) feelings; and they leave their spirit to die:—abandoning themselves
to what is the general practice. Thus dealing with their nature like the
farmer who is negligent of the clods in his soil, the illegitimate results
of their likings and dislikings become their nature. The bushy sedges,
reeds, and rushes, which seem at first to spring up to support our bodies,
gradually eradicate our nature, and it becomes like a mass of running sores,
ever liable to flow out, with scabs and ulcers, discharging in flowing
matter from the internal heat. So indeed it is!'
7:
Po Kü was studying with Lao Tan, and asked his leave to go and travel
everywhere. Lao Tan said,
'Nay; —elsewhere it is just as here.'
He repeated his request, and then Lao Tan
said,
'Where would you go first?'
'I would begin with Khi,' replied the
disciple. Having got there, I would go to look at the criminals (who had
been executed). With my arms I would raise (one of) them up and set him on
his feet, and, taking off my court robes, I would cover him with them,
appealing at the same time to Heaven and bewailing his lot, while I said,
"My son, my son, you have been one of the first to suffer from the great
calamities that afflict the world."' (Lao Tan) said,
'(It is said), —-Do not rob. Do not kill."
(But) in the setting up of (the ideas of) glory and disgrace, we see the
cause of those evils; in the accumulation of property and wealth, we see the
causes of strife and contention. If now you set up the things against which
men fret; if you accumulate what produces strife and contention among them;
if you put their persons in such a state of distress, that they have no rest
or ease, although you may wish that they should not come to the end of those
(criminals), can your wish be realised?
'The superior men (and rulers) of old
considered that the success (of their government) was to be found in (the
state of) the people, and its failure to be sought in themselves; that the
right might be with the people, and the wrong in themselves. Thus it was
that if but a single person lost his life, they retired and blamed
themselves. Now, however, it is not so. (Rulers) conceal what they want
done, and hold those who do not know it to be stupid; they require what is
very difficult, and condemn those who do not dare to undertake it; they
impose heavy burdens, and punish those who are unequal to them; they require
men to go far, and put them to death when they cannot accomplish the
distance. When the people know that the utmost of their strength will be
insufficient, they follow it up with deceit. When (the rulers) daily exhibit
much hypocrisy, how can the officers and people not be hypocritical?
Insufficiency of strength produces hypocrisy; insufficiency of knowledge
produces deception; insufficiency of means produces robbery. But in this
case against whom ought the robbery and theft to be charged?'
8:
When Kü Po-yü was in his sixtieth year, his views became changed in the
course of it. He had never before done anything but consider the views which
he held to be right, but now he came to condemn them as wrong; he did not
know that what he now called right was not what for fifty-nine years he had
been calling wrong. All things have the life (which we know), but we do not
see its root; they have their goings forth, but we do not know the door by
which they depart. Men all honour that which lies within the sphere of their
knowledge, but they do not know their dependence on what lies without that
sphere which would be their (true) knowledge:—may we not call their case one
of great perplexity? Ah! Ah! there is no escaping from this dilemma. So it
is! So it is!
9:
Kung-ni asked the Grand Historiographer TâThâo, (along with) Po
Khang-khien and Khih-wei, saying,
'Duke Ling of Wei was so addicted to drink,
and abandoned to sensuality, that he did not attend to the government of his
state. Occupied in his pursuit of hunting with his nets and bows, he kept
aloof from the meetings of the princes. In what was it that he showed his
title to the epithet of Ling?'
TâThâo said,
'It was on account of those very things.'
Po Khang-khien said,
'Duke Ling had three mistresses with whom
he used to bathe in the same tub. (Once, however), when Shih-zhiu came to
him with presents from the imperial court, he made his servants support the
messenger in bearing the gifts. So dissolute was he in the former case, and
when he saw a man of worth, thus reverent was he to him. It was on this
account that he was styled "Duke Ling."'
Khih-wei said,
'When duke Ling died, and they divined
about burying him in the old tomb of his House, the answer was unfavourable;
when they divined about burying him on Shâ-khiu, the answer was favourable.
Accordingly they dug there to the depth of several fathoms, and found a
stone coffin. Having washed and inspected it, they discovered an
inscription, which said,
"This grave won't be available for your posterity;
Duke Ling will appropriate it for himself."
Thus that epithet of Ling had long been settled for the duke. But how
should those two be able to know this?
10:
Shâo Kih asked Tai-kung Thiâo, saying,
'What do we mean by "The Talk of the
Hamlets and Villages?"'
The reply was,
'Hamlets and Villages are formed by the
union—say of ten surnames and a hundred names, and are considered to be (the
source of) manners and customs. The differences between them are united to
form their common character, and what is common to them is separately
apportioned to form the differences. If you point to the various parts which
make up the body of a horse, you do not have the horse; but when the horse
is before you, and all its various parts stand forth (as forming the
animal), you speak of "the horse." So it is that the mounds and hills are
made to be the elevations that they are by accumulations of earth which
individually are but low. (So also rivers like) the Kiang and the Ho obtain
their greatness by the union of (other smaller) waters with them. And (in
the same way) the Great man exhibits the common sentiment of humanity by the
union in himself of all its individualities. Hence when ideas come to him
from without, though he has his own decided view, he does not hold it with
bigotry; and when he gives out his own decisions, which are correct, the
views of others do not oppose them. The four seasons have their different
elemental characters, but they are not the partial gifts of Heaven, and so
the year completes its course. The five official departments have their
different duties, but the ruler does not partially employ any one of them,
and so the kingdom is governed. (The gifts of) peace and war(are different),
but the Great man does not employ the one to the prejudice of the other, and
so the character (of his administration) is perfect. All things have their
different constitutions and modes of actions, but the Tao (which directs
them) is free from all partiality, and therefore it has no name. Having no
name, it therefore does nothing. Doing nothing, there is nothing which it
does not do.
'Each season has its ending and beginning;
each age has its changes and transformations; misery and happiness regularly
alternate. Here our views are thwarted, and yet the result may afterwards
have our approval; there we insist on our own views, and looking at things
differently from others, try to correct them, while we are in error
ourselves. The case may be compared to that of a great marsh, in which all
its various vegetation finds a place, or we may look at it as a great hill,
where trees and rocks are found on the same terrace. Such may be a
description of what is intended by "The Talk of the Hamlets and Villages."'
Shâo Kih said,
'Well, is it sufficient to call it (an
expression of) the Tao?'
Tai-kung Thiâo said,
'It is not so. If we reckon up the number
of things, they are not 10,000 merely. When we speak of them as "the Myriad
Things," we simply use that large number by way of accommodation to
denominate them. In this way Heaven and Earth are the greatest of all things
that have form; the Yin and Yang are the greatest of all elemental forces.
But the Tao is common to them. Because of their greatness to use the Tao or
(Course) as a title and call it "the Great Tao" is allowable. But what
comparison can be drawn between it and "the Talk of the Hamlets and
Villages?" To argue from this that it is a sufficient expression of the Tao,
is like calling a dog and a horse by the same name, while the difference
between them is so great.'
11:
Shâo Kih said,
'Within the limits of the four cardinal
points, and the six boundaries of space, how was it that there commenced the
production of all things?'
Tai-kung Thiâo replied,
'The Yin and Yang reflected light on each
other, covered each other, and regulated each the other; the four seasons
gave place to one another, produced one another, and brought one another to
an end. Likings and dislikings, the avoidings of this and movements towards
that, then arose (in the things thus produced), in their definite
distinctness; and from this came the separation and union of the male and
female. Then were seen now security and now insecurity, in mutual change;
misery and happiness produced each other; gentleness and urgency pressed on
each other; the movements of collection and dispersion were
established:—these names and processes can be examined, and, however minute,
can be recorded. The rules determining the order in which they follow one
another, their mutual influence now acting directly and now revolving, how,
when they are exhausted, they revive, and how they end and begin again;
these are the properties belonging to things. Words can describe them and
knowledge can reach to them; but with this ends all that can be said of
things. Men who study the Tao do not follow on when these operations end,
nor try to search out how they began:—with this all discussion of them
stops.'
Shâo Kih said,
'Ki Kän holds that (the Tao) forbids all
action, and Master Kieh holds that it may perhaps allow of influence. Which
of the two is correct in his statements, and which is one-sided in his
ruling?'
Tai-kung Thiâo replied,
'Cocks crow and dogs bark; —this is what
all men know. But men with the greatest wisdom cannot describe in words
whence it is that they are formed (with such different voices), nor can they
find out by thinking what they wish to do. We may refine on this small
point; till it is so minute that there is no point to operate on, or it may
become so great that there is no embracing it. "Some one caused it; " "No
one did it; " but we are thus debating about things; and the end is that we
shall find we are in error. "Some one caused it; "—then there was a real
Being. "No one did it; "—then there was mere vacancy. To have a name and a
real existence,-that is the condition of a thing. Not to have a name, and
not to have real being; —that is vacancy and no thing. We may speak and we
may think about it, but the more we speak, the wider shall we be of the
mark. Birth, before it comes, cannot be prevented; death, when it has
happened, cannot be traced farther. Death and life are not far apart; but
why they have taken place cannot be seen. That some one has caused them, or
that there has been no action in the case are but speculations of doubt.
When I look for their origin, it goes back into infinity; when I look for
their end, it proceeds without termination. Infinite, unceasing, there is no
room for words about (the Tao). To regard it as in the category of things is
the origin of the language that it is caused or that it is the result of
doing nothing; but it would end as it began with things. The Tao cannot have
a (real) existence; if it has, it cannot be made to appear as if it had not.
The name Tao is a metaphor, used for the purpose of description. To say that
it causes or does nothing is but to speak of one phase of things, and has
nothing to do with the Great Subject. If words were sufficient for the
purpose, in a day's time we might exhaust it; since they are not sufficient,
we may speak all day, and only exhaust (the subject of) things. The Tao is
the extreme to which things conduct us. Neither speech nor silence is
sufficient to convey the notion of it. Neither by speech nor by silence can
our thoughts about it have their highest expression.
1:
What comes from without cannot be determined beforehand. So it was that
Lung-fäng was killed; Pi-kan immolated; and the count of Ki (made to feign
himself) mad, (while) O-lâi died, and Kieh and Kâu both perished. Rulers all
wish their ministers to be faithful, but that faithfulness may not secure
their confidence; hence Wu Yün became a wanderer along the Kiang, and Khang
Hung died in Shu, where (the people) preserved his blood for three years,
when it became changed into green jade. Parents all wish their sons to be
filial, but that filial duty may not secure their love; hence Hsiâo-ki had
to endure his sorrow, and Zäng Shän his grief.
When wood is rubbed against wood, it begins
to burn; when metal is subjected to fire, it (melts and) flows. When the Yin
and Yang act awry, heaven and earth are greatly perturbed; and on this comes
the crash of thunder, and from the rain comes fire, which consumes great
locust trees. (The case of men) is still worse. They are troubled between
two pitfalls, from which they cannot escape. Chrysalis-like, they can
accomplish nothing. Their minds are as if hung up between heaven and earth.
Now comforted, now pitied, they are plunged in difficulties. The ideas of
profit and of injury rub against each other, and produce in them a very
great fire. The harmony (of the mind) is consumed in the mass of men. Their
moonlike intelligence cannot overcome the (inward) fire. They thereupon fall
away more and more, and the Course (which they should pursue) is altogether
lost.
2:
The family of Kwang Kâu being poor, he went to ask the loan of some rice
from the Marquis Superintendent of the Ho, who said,
'Yes, I shall be getting the (tax-) money
from the people (soon), and I will then lend you three hundred ounces of
silver; —will that do?'
Kwang Kâu flushed with anger, and said,
'On the road yesterday, as I was coming
here, I heard some one calling out. On looking round, I saw a goby in the
carriage rut, and said to it, "Goby fish, what has brought you here?" The
goby said, "I am Minister of Waves in the Eastern Sea. Have you, Sir, a
gallon or a pint of water to keep me alive?" I replied, "Yes, I am going
south to see the kings of Wu and Yüeh, and I will then lead a stream from
the Western Kiang to meet you; —will that do?" The goby flushed with anger,
and said, "I have lost my proper element, and I can here do nothing for
myself; but if I could get a gallon or a pint of water, I should keep alive.
Than do what you propose, you had better soon look for me in a stall of dry
fish."'
3:
A son of the duke of Zän, having provided himself with a great hook, a
powerful black line, and fifty steers to be used as bait, squatted down on
(mount) Kwâi Khi, and threw the line into the Eastern Sea. Morning after
morning he angled thus, and for a whole year caught nothing. At the end of
that time, a great fish swallowed the bait, and dived down, dragging the
great hook with him.
Then it rose to the surface in a flurry,
and flapped with its fins, till the white waves rose like hills, and the
waters were lashed into fury. The noise was like that of imps and spirits,
and spread terror for a thousand li. The prince having got such a fish, cut
it in slices and dried them. From the Keh river to the cast, and from
Zhang-Wu to the north, there was not one who did not eat his full from that
fish; and in subsequent generations, story-tellers of small abilities have
all repeated the story to one another with astonishment. (But) if the prince
had taken his rod, with a fine line, and gone to pools and ditches, and
watched for minnows and gobies, it would have been difficult for him to get
a large fish. Those who dress up their small tales to obtain favour with the
magistrates are far from being men of great understanding; and therefore one
who has not heard the story of this scion of Zän is not fit to take any part
in the government of the world; —far is he from being so.
4:
Some literati, students of the Odes and Ceremonies, were breaking open a
mound over a grave. The superior among them spoke down to the others,
'Day is breaking in the east; how is the
thing going on?'
The younger men replied,
'We have not yet opened his jacket and
skirt, but there is a pearl in the mouth. As it is said in the Ode,
"The bright, green grain
Is growing on the sides of the mound.
While living, he gave nothing away;
Why, when dead, should he hold a pearl in his mouth?"'
Thereupon they took hold of the whiskers and pulled at the beard, while
the superior introduced a piece of fine steel into the chin, and gradually
separated the jaws, so as not to injure the pearl in the mouth.
5:
A disciple of Master Lao Lâi, while he was out gathering firewood, met
with Kung-ni. On his return, he told (his master), saying,
'There is a man there, the upper part of
whose body is long and the lower part short. He is slightly hump-backed, and
his ears are far back. When you look at him, he seems occupied with the
cares of all within the four seas I don't know whose son he is.'
Master Lao Lâi said,
It is Khiu; call him here; ' and when Kung-ni
came, he said to him,
'Khiu, put away your personal conceit, and
airs of wisdom, and show yourself to be indeed a superior man.'
Kung-ni bowed and was retiring, when he
abruptly changed his manner, and asked,
'Will the object I am pursuing be thereby
advanced?'
Master Lao Lâi replied,
'You cannot bear the sufferings of this one
age, and are stubbornly regardless of the evils of a myriad ages:—is it that
you purposely make yourself thus unhappy? or is it that you have not the
ability to comprehend the case? Your obstinate purpose to make men rejoice
in a participation of your joy is your life-long shame, the procedure of a
mediocre man. You would lead men by your fame; you would bind them to you by
your secret art. Than be praising Yao and condemning Kieh, you had better
forget them both, and shut up your tendency to praise. If you reflect on it,
it does nothing but injury; your action in it is entirely wrong. The sage is
full of anxiety and indecision in undertaking anything, and so he is always
successful. But what shall I say of your conduct? To the end it is all
affectation.'
6:
The ruler Yüan of Sung (once) dreamt at midnight that a man with
dishevelled hair peeped in on him at a side door and said,
'I was coming from the abyss of
commissioned by the Clear Kiang to go to the place of the Earl of the Ho;
but the fisherman Yü Zü has caught me.'
When the ruler Yüan awoke, he caused a
diviner to divine the meaning (of the dream), and was told,
'This is a marvellous tortoise.'
The ruler asked if among the fishermen
there was one called Yü Zü, and being told by his attendants that there was,
he gave orders that he should be summoned to court. Accordingly the man next
day appeared at court, and the ruler said,
'What have you caught (lately) in fishing?'
The reply was,
'I have caught in my net a white tortoise,
sieve-like, and five cubits round.'
'Present the prodigy here,' said the ruler;
and, when it came, once and again he wished to kill it, once and again he
wished to keep it alive. Doubting in his mind (what to do), he had recourse
to divination, and obtained the answer,
'To kill the tortoise for use in divining
will be fortunate.'
Accordingly they cut the creature open, and
perforated its shell in seventy-two places, and there was not a single
divining slip which failed.
Kung-ni said,
'The spirit-like tortoise could show itself
in a dream to the ruler Yüan, and yet it could not avoid the net of Yü Zü.
Its wisdom could respond on seventy-two perforations without failing in a
single divination, and yet it could not avoid the agony of having its bowels
all scooped out. We see from this that wisdom is not without its perils, and
spirit-like intelligence does not reach to everything. A man may have the
greatest wisdom, but there are a myriad men scheming against him. Fishes do
not fear the net, though they fear the pelican. Put away your small wisdom,
and your great wisdom will be bright; discard your skilfulness, and you will
become naturally skilful. A child when it is born needs no great master, and
yet it becomes able to speak, living (as it does) among those who are able
to speak.'
7:
Master Hui said to Master Chuang,
'You speak, Sir, of what is of no use.'
The reply was,
'When a man knows what is not useful, you
can then begin to speak to him of what is useful. The earth for instance is
certainly spacious and great; but what a man uses of it is only sufficient
ground for his feet. If, however, a rent were made by the side of his feet,
down to the yellow springs, could the man still make use of it?'
Master Hui said,
'He could not use it,' and Master Chuang
rejoined,
'Then the usefulness of what is of no use
is clear.'
8:
Master Chuang said,
'If a man have the power to enjoy himself
(in any pursuit), can he be kept from doing so? If he have not the power,
can he so enjoy himself? There are those whose aim is bent on concealing
themselves, and those who are determined that their doings shall leave no
trace. Alas! they both shirk the obligations of perfect knowledge and great
virtue. The (latter) fall, and cannot recover themselves; the (former) rush
on like fire, and do not consider (what they are doing). Though men may
stand to each other in the relation of ruler and minister, that is but for a
time. In a changed age, the one of them would not be able to look down on
the other. Hence it is said, "The Perfect man leaves no traces of his
conduct."
'To honour antiquity and despise the
present time is the characteristic of learners; but even the disciples of
Khih-wei have to look at the present age; and who can avoid being carried
along by its course? It is only the Perfect man who is able to enjoy himself
in the world, and not be deflected from the right, to accommodate himself to
others and not lose himself. He does not learn their lessons; he only takes
their ideas into consideration, and does not discard them as different from
his own.
9:
'It is the penetrating eye that gives clear vision, the acute car that
gives quick hearing, the discriminating nose that gives discernment of
odours, the practised mouth that gives the enjoyment of flavours, the active
mind that acquires knowledge, and the far-reaching knowledge that
constitutes virtue. In no case does the connexion with what is without like
to be obstructed; obstruction produces stoppage; stoppage, continuing
without intermission, arrests all progress; and with this all injurious
effects spring up.
'The knowledge of all creatures depends on
their breathing. But if their breath be not abundant, it is not the fault of
Heaven, which tries to penetrate them with it, day and night without
ceasing; but men notwithstanding shut their pores against it. The womb
encloses a large and empty space; the heart has its spontaneous and
enjoyable movements. If their apartment be not roomy, wife and mother-in-law
will be bickering; if the heart have not its spontaneous and enjoyable
movements, the six faculties of perception will be in mutual collision. That
the great forests, the heights and hills, are pleasant to men, is because
their spirits cannot overcome (those distracting influences). Virtue
overflows into (the love of) fame; (the love of) fame overflows into
violence; schemes originate in the urgency (of circumstances); (the show of)
wisdom comes from rivalry; the fuel (of strife) is produced from the
obstinate maintenance (of one's own views); the business of offices should
be apportioned in accordance with the approval of all. In spring, when the
rain and the sunshine come seasonably, vegetation grows luxuriantly, and
sickles and hoes begin to be prepared. More than half of what had fallen
down becomes straight, and we don't know how.
10:
'Stillness and silence are helpful to those who are ill; rubbing the
corners of the eyes is helpful to the aged; rest serves to calm agitation;
but they are the toiled and troubled who have recourse to these things.
Those who are at ease, and have not had such experiences, do not care to ask
about them. The spirit-like man has had no experience of how it is that the
sagely man keeps the world in awe, and so he does not inquire about it; the
sagely man has had no experience of how it is that the man of ability and
virtue keeps his age in awe, and so he does not inquire about it; the man of
ability and virtue has had no experience of how it is that the superior man
keeps his state in awe, and so he does not inquire about it. The superior
man has had no experience of how it is that the small man keeps himself in
agreement with his times that he should inquire about it.'
11:
The keeper of the Yen Gate, on the death of his father, showed so much
skill in emaciating himself that he received the rank of 'Pattern for
Officers.'
Half the people of his neighbourhood (in
consequence) carried their emaciation to such a point that they died. When
Yao wished to resign the throne to Hsü Yu, the latter ran away. When Tang
offered his to Wu Kwang, Wu Kwang became angry. When Ki Thâ[3] heard it, he
led his disciples, and withdrew to the river Kho, where the feudal princes
came and condoled with him, and after three years, Shän Thu-ti threw himself
into the water. Fishing-stakes are employed to catch fish; but when the fish
are got, the men forget the stakes. Snares are employed to catch hares, but
when the hares are got, men forget the snares. Words are employed to convey
ideas; but when the ideas are apprehended, men forget the words. Fain would
I talk with such a man who has forgot the words!
1:
Of my sentences nine in ten are metaphorical; of my illustrations seven
in ten are from valued writers. The rest of my words are like the water that
daily fills the cup, tempered and harmonised by the Heavenly element in our
nature.
The nine sentences in ten which are
metaphorical are borrowed from extraneous things to assist (the
comprehension of) my argument. (When it is said, for instance),
'A father does not act the part of
matchmaker for his own son,' (the meaning is that) 'it is better for another
man to praise the son than for his father to do so.'
The use of such metaphorical language is
not my fault, but the fault of men (who would not otherwise readily
understand me).
Men assent to views which agree with their
own, and oppose those which do not so agree. Those which agree with their
own they hold to be right, and those which do not so agree they hold to be
wrong. The seven out of ten illustrations taken from valued writers are
designed to put an end to disputations. Those writers are the men of hoary
eld, my predecessors in time. But such as are unversed in the warp and woof,
the beginning and end of the subject, cannot be set down as of venerable eld,
and regarded as the predecessors of others. If men have not that in them
which fits them to precede others, they are without the way proper to man,
and they who are without the way proper to man can only be pronounced
defunct monuments of antiquity.
Words like the water that daily issues from
the cup, and are harmonised by the Heavenly Element (of our nature), may be
carried on into the region of the unlimited, and employed to the end of our
years. But without words there is an agreement (in principle). That
agreement is not effected by words, and an agreement in words is not
effected by it. Hence it is said,
'Let there be no words.'
Speech does not need words. One may speak
all his life, and not have spoken a (right) word; and one may not have
spoken all his life, and yet all his life been giving utterance to the
(right) words. There is that which makes a thing allowable, and that which
makes a thing not allowable. There is that which makes a thing right, and
that which makes a thing not right. How is a thing right? It is right
because it is right. How is a thing wrong? It is wrong because it is wrong.
How is a thing allowable? It is allowable because it is so. How is a thing
not allowable? It is not allowable because it is not so. Things indeed have
what makes them right, and what makes them allowable. There is nothing which
has not its condition of right; nothing which has not its condition of
allowability. But without the words of the (water-) cup in daily use, and
harmonised by the Heavenly Element (in our nature), what one can continue
long in the possession of these characteristics?
All things are divided into their several
classes, and succeed to one another in the same way, though of different
bodily forms. They begin and end as in an unbroken ring, though how it is
they do so be not apprehended. This is what is called the Lathe of Heaven;
and the Lathe of Heaven is the Heavenly Element in our nature.
2:
Master Chuang said to Hui-Sze,
'When Confucius was in his sixtieth year,
in that year his views changed. What he had before held to be right, he now
ended by holding to be wrong; and he did not know whether the things which
he now pronounced to be right were not those which he had for fifty-nine
years held to be wrong.'
Master Hui replied,
'Confucius with an earnest will pursued the
acquisition of knowledge, and acted accordingly.'
Master Chuang rejoined,
'Confucius disowned such a course, and
never said that it was his. He said, "Man receives his powers from the Great
Source (of his being), and he should restore them to their (original)
intelligence in his life. His singing should be in accordance with the
musical tubes, and his speech a model for imitation. When profit and
righteousness are set before him, and his liking (for the latter) and
dislike (of the former), his approval and disapproval, are manifested, that
only serves to direct the speech of men (about him). To make men in heart
submit, and not dare to stand up in opposition to him; to establish the
fixed law for all under heaven:—ah! ah! I have not attained to that."'
3:
Master Zäng twice took office, and on the two occasions his state of mind
was different. He said,
'While my parents were alive I took office,
and though my emolument was only three fu (of grain), my mind was happy.
Afterwards when I took office, my emolument was three thousand kung; but I
could not share it with my parents, and my mind was sad.'
The other disciples asked Kung-ni, saying,
'Such an one as Shän may be pronounced free
from all entanglement:—is he to be blamed for feeling as he did?'
The reply was,
'But he was subject to entanglement. If he
had been free from it, could he have had that sadness? He would have looked
on his three fu and three thousand kung no more than on a heron or a
mosquito passing before him.'
4:
Yen Tzu Keng Yu said to Tung-kwo, Tzu Ki,
'When I (had begun to) hear your
instructions, the first year, I continued a simple rustic; the second year,
I became docile; the third year, I comprehended (your teaching); the fourth
year, I was (plastic) as a thing; the fifth year, I made advances; the sixth
year, the spirit entered (and dwelt in me); the seventh year, (my nature as
designed by) Heaven was perfected; the eighth year, I knew no difference
between death and life; the ninth year, I attained to the Great Mystery.
'Life has its work to do, and death ensues,
(as if) the common character of each were a thing prescribed. Men consider
that their death has its cause; but that life from (the operation of) the
Yang has no cause. But is it really so? How does (the Yang) operate in this
direction? Why does it not operate there?
'Heaven has its places and spaces which can
be calculated; (the divisions of) the earth can be assigned by men. But how
shall we search for and find out (the conditions of the Great Mystery)? We
don't know when and how (life) will end, but how shall we conclude that it
is not determined (from without)? and as we don't know when and how it
begins, how should we conclude that it is not (so) determined?
'In regard to the issues of conduct which
we deem appropriate, how should we conclude that there are no spirits
presiding over them; and where those issues seem inappropriate, how should
we conclude that there are spirits presiding over them?'
5:
The penumbrae (once) asked the shadow, saying,
'Formerly you were looking down, and now
you are looking up; formerly you had your hair tied up, and now it is
dishevelled; formerly you were sitting, and now you have risen up; formerly
you were walking, and now you have stopped:—how is all this?'
The shadow said,
'Venerable Sirs, how do you ask me about
such small matters? These things all belong to me, but I don't know how they
do so. I am (like) the shell of a cicada or the cast-off skin of a snake;
—like them, and yet not like them. With light and the sun I make my
appearance; with darkness and the night I fade away. Am not I dependent on
the substance from which I am thrown? And that substance is itself dependent
on something else! When it comes, I come with it; when it goes, I go with
it. When it comes under the influence of the strong Yang, I come under the
same. Since we are both produced by that strong Yang, what occasion is there
for you to question me?'
6:
Master Yang-kü had gone South to Phei, while Lao Tan was travelling in
the west in Khin. (He thereupon) asked (Master Lao) to come to the border
(of Phei), and went himself to Liang, where be met him. Master Lao stood in
the middle of the way, and, looking up to heaven, said with a sigh,
'At first I thought that you might be
taught, but now I see that you cannot be.'
Master Yang-kü made no reply; and when they
came to their lodging-house, he brought in water for the master to wash his
hands and rinse his mouth, along with a towel and comb. He then took off his
shoes outside the door, went forward on his knees, and said,
'Formerly, your disciple wished to ask you,
Master, (the reason of what you said); but you were walking, and there was
no opportunity, and therefore I did not presume to speak. Now there is an
opportunity, and I beg to ask why you spoke as you did.'
Master Lao replied,
'Your eyes are lofty, and you stare; —who
would live with you? The purest carries himself as if he were soiled; the
most virtuous seems to feel himself defective.'
Master Yang-kü looked abashed and changed
countenance, saying,
'I receive your commands with reverence.'
When he first went to the lodging-house,
the people of it met him and went before him. The master of it carried his
mat for him, and the mistress brought the towel and comb. The lodgers left
their mats, and the cook his fire-place (as he passed them). When he went
away, the others in the house would have striven with him about (the places
for) their mats.
1:
Yao proposed to resign the throne to Hsü Yu, who would not accept it. He
then offered it to Tzu-kâu Kih-fu, but he said,
'It is not unreasonable to propose that I
should occupy the throne, but I happen to be suffering under a painful
sorrow and illness. While I am engaged in dealing with it, I have not
leisure to govern the kingdom.'
Now the throne is the most important of all
positions, and yet this man would not occupy it to the injury of his life;
how much less would he have allowed any other thing to do so! But only he
who does not care to rule the kingdom is fit to be entrusted with it.
Shun proposed to resign the throne to Tzu-kâu
Kih-po, who declined in the very same terms as Kih-fu had done. Now the
kingdom is the greatest of all concerns, and yet this man would not give his
life in exchange for the throne. This shows how they who possess the Tao
differ from common men.
Shun proposed to resign the throne to Shan
Küan, who said,
'I am a unit in the midst of space and
time. In winter I wear skins and furs; in summer, grass-cloth and linen; in
spring I plough and sow, my strength being equal to the toil; in autumn I
gather in my harvest, and am prepared to cease from labour and eat. At
sunrise I get up and work; at sunset I rest. So do I enjoy myself between
heaven and earth, and my mind is content:—why should I have anything to do
with the throne? Alas! that you, Sir, don't know me better!' Thereupon he
declined the proffer, and went away, deep among the hills, no man knew
where.
Shun proposed to resign the throne to his
friend, a farmer of Shih-hu. The farmer, however, said (to himself),
'How full of vigour does our lord show
himself, and how exuberant is his strength! If Shun with all his powers be
not equal (to the task of government, how should I be so?).'
On this he took his wife on his back, led
his son by the hand, and went away to the sea-coast, from which to the end
of his life he did not come back.
When Tai-wang Than-fu was dwelling in Pin,
the wild tribes of the North attacked him. He tried to serve them with skins
and silks, but they were not satisfied. He tried to serve them with dogs and
horses, but they were not satisfied, and then with pearls and jade, but they
were not satisfied. What they sought was his territory. Tai-wang Than-fu
said (to his people),
'To dwell with the elder brother and cause
the younger brother to be killed, or with the father and cause the son to be
killed,—this is what I cannot bear to do. Make an effort, my children, to
remain here. What difference is there between being my subjects, or the
subjects of those wild people? And I have heard that a man does not use that
which he employs for nourishing his people to injure them.'
Thereupon he took his staff and switch and
left, but the people followed him in an unbroken train, and he established a
(new) state at the foot of mount Khi. Thus Tai-wang Than-fu might be
pronounced one who could give its (due) honour to life. Those who are able
to do so, though they may be rich and noble, will not, for that which
nourishes them, injure their persons; and though they may be poor and mean,
will not, for the sake of gain, involve their bodies (in danger). The men of
the present age who occupy high offices and are of honourable rank all lose
these (advantages) again, and in the prospect of gain lightly expose their
persons to ruin:—is it not a case of delusion?
The people of Yüeh three times in
succession killed their ruler, and the prince Sâu, distressed by it, made
his escape to the caves of Tan, so that Yüeh was left without a ruler. The
people sought for the prince, but could not find him, till (at last) they
followed him to the cave of Tan. The prince was not willing to come out to
them, but they smoked him out with moxa, and made him mount the royal
chariot. As he took hold of the strap, and mounted the carriage, he looked
up to heaven, and called out,
'O Ruler, O Ruler, could you not have
spared me this?'
Prince Sâu did not dislike being ruler; —he
disliked the evil inseparable from being so. It may be said of him that he
would not for the sake of a kingdom endanger his life; and this indeed was
the reason why the people of Yüeh wanted to get him for their ruler.
2:
Han and Wei were contending about some territory which one of them had
wrested from the other. Master Tzu-hwâ went to see the marquis Kâo-hsi (of
Han), and, finding him looking sorrowful, said,
'Suppose now that all the states were to
sign an agreement before you to the effect that "Whoever should with his
left hand carry off (the territory in dispute) should lose his right hand,
and whoever should do so with his right hand should lose his left hand, but
that, nevertheless, he who should carry it off was sure to obtain the whole
kingdom;" would your lordship feel yourself able to carry it off?'
The marquis said,
'I would not carry it off,' and Tzu-hwâ
rejoined,
'Very good. Looking at the thing from this
point of view, your two arms are of more value to you than the whole
kingdom. But your body is of more value than your two arms, and Han is of
much less value than the whole kingdom. The territory for which you are now
contending is further much less important than Han:—your lordship, since you
feel so much concern for your body, should not be endangering your life by
indulging your sorrow.
The marquis Kâo-hsi said,
'Good! Many have given me their counsel
about this matter; but I never heard what you have said.'
Master Tzu-hwâ may be said to have known
well what was of great importance and what was of little.
3:
The ruler of Lu, having heard that Yen Ho had attained to the Tao, sent a
messenger, with a gift of silks, to prepare the way for further
communication with him. Yen Ho was waiting at the door of a mean house, in a
dress of coarse hempen cloth, and himself feeding a cow. When the messenger
arrived, Yen Ho himself confronted him.
'Is this,' said the messenger, 'the house
of Yen Ho?'
'It is,' was the reply; and the other was
presenting the silks to him, when he said,
'I am afraid you heard (your instructions)
wrongly, and that he who sent you will blame you. You had better make sure.'
The messenger on this returned, and made
sure that he was right; but when he came back, and sought for Yen Ho, he was
not to be found.
Yes; men like Yen Ho do of a truth dislike
riches and honours. Hence it is said,
'The true object of the Tao is the
regulation of the person. Quite subordinate to this is its use in the
management of the state and the clan; while the government of the kingdom is
but the dust and refuse of it.'
From this we may see that the services of
the Tis and Kings are but a surplusage of the work of the sages, and do not
contribute to complete the person or nourish the life. Yet the superior men
of the present age will, most of them, throw away their lives for the sake
of their persons, in pursuing their (material) objects; —is it not cause for
grief? Whenever a sage is initiating any movement, he is sure to examine the
motive which influences him, and what he is about to do. Here, however, is a
man, who uses a pearl like that of the marquis of Sui to shoot a bird at a
distance of 10,000 feet. All men will laugh at him; and why? Because the
thing which he uses is of great value, and what he wishes to get is of
little. And is not life of more value than the pearl of the marquis of Sui?
4:
Tzu Tzu Lieh was reduced to extreme poverty, and his person had a hungry
look. A visitor mentioned the case to Tzu-yang, (the premier) of Käng,
saying,
'Lieh Yü-khâu, I believe, is a scholar who
has attained to the Tao. Is it because our ruler does not love (such)
scholars, that he should be living in his state in such poverty?'
Tzu-yang at once ordered an officer to send
to him a supply of grain. When Master Lieh saw the messenger, he bowed to
him twice, and declined the gift, on which the messenger went away. On
Master Lieh's going into the house, his wife looked to him and beat her
breast, saying,
'I have heard that the wife and children of
a possessor of the Tao all enjoy plenty and ease, but now we look starved.
The ruler has seen his error, and sent you a present of food, but you would
not receive it; —is it appointed (for us to suffer thus)?'
Tzu Tzu Lieh laughed and said to her,
'The ruler does not himself know me.
Because of what some one said to him, he sent me the grain; but if another
speak (differently) of me to him, he may look on me as a criminal. This was
why I did not receive the grain.'
In the end it did come about, that the
people, on an occasion of trouble and disorder, put Tzu-yang to death.
5:
When king Kâo of Ku lost his kingdom, the sheep-butcher Yüeh followed him
in his flight. When the king (recovered) his kingdom and returned to it, and
was going to reward those who had followed him, on coming to the
sheep-butcher Yüeh, that personage said,
'When our Great King lost his kingdom, I
lost my sheep-killing. When his majesty got back his kingdom, I also got
back my sheep-killing. My income and rank have been recovered; why speak
further of rewarding me?'
The king, (on hearing of this reply), said,
'Force him (to take the reward); ' but Yüeh
said,
'It was not through any crime of mine that
the king lost his kingdom, and therefore I did not dare to submit to the
death (which would have been mine if I had remained in the capital). And it
was not through any service of mine that he recovered his kingdom, and
therefore I do not dare to count myself worthy of any reward from him.'
The king (now) asked that the butcher
should be introduced to him, but Yüeh said,
'According to the law of Ku, great reward
ought to be given to great service, and the recipient then be introduced to
the king; but now my wisdom was not sufficient to preserve the kingdom, nor
my courage sufficient to die at the hands of the invaders. When the army of
Wu entered, I was afraid of the danger, and got out of the way of the
thieves; —it was not with a distinct purpose (of loyalty) that I followed
the king. And now he wishes, in disregard of the law, and violations of the
conditions of our social compact, to see me in court; —this is not what I
would like to be talked of through the kingdom.'
The king said to Tzu Ki, the Minister of
War,
'The position of the sheep-butcher Yüeh is
low and mean, but his setting forth of what is right is very high; do you
ask him for me to accept the place of one of my three most distinguished
nobles.'
(This being communicated to Yüeh), he said,
'I know that the place of such a
distinguished noble is nobler than a sheep-butcher's stall, and that the
salary of 10,000 kung is more than its profits. But how should I, through my
greed of rank and emolument, bring on our ruler the name of an unlawful
dispensation of his gifts? I dare not respond to your wishes, but desire to
return to my stall as the sheep-butcher.'
Accordingly he did not accept (the
proffered reward).
6:
Yüan Hsien was living in Lu. His house, whose walls were only a few paces
round, looked as if it were thatched with a crop of growing grass; its door
of brushwood was incomplete, with branches of a mulberry tree for its
side-posts; the window of each of its two apartments was formed by an
earthenware jar (in the wall), which was stuffed with some coarse serge. It
leaked above, and was damp on the ground beneath; but there he sat
composedly, playing on his guitar. Tzu-kung, in an inner robe of purple and
an outer one of pure white, riding in a carriage drawn by two large horses,
the hood of which was too high to get into the lane (leading to the house),
went to see him. Yüan Hsien, in a cap made of bark, and slippers without
heels, and with a stalk of hellebore for a staff, met him at the door.
'Alas! Master,' said Tzu-kung,
'that you should be in such distress!' Yüan
Hsien answered him,
'I have heard that to have no money is to
be poor, and that not to be able to carry one's learning into practice is to
be distressed. I am poor but not in distress.'
Tzu-kung shrank back, and looked ashamed,
on which the other laughed and said,
'To act with a view to the world's
(praise); to pretend to be public-spirited and yet be a partisan; to learn
in order to please men; to teach for the sake of one's own gain; to conceal
one's wickedness under the garb of benevolence and righteousness; and to be
fond of the show of chariots and horses:—these are things which Hsien cannot
bear to do.'
Master Zäng was residing in Wei. He wore a
robe quilted with hemp, and had no outer garment; his countenance looked
rough and emaciated; his hands and feet were horny and callous; he would be
three days without lighting a fire; in ten years he did not have a new suit;
if he put his cap on straight, the strings would break; if he drew tight the
overlap of his robe, his elbow would be seen; in putting on his shoes, the
heels would burst them. Yet dragging his shoes along, he sane, the
'Sacrificial Odes of Shang' with a voice that filled heaven and earth as if
it came from a bell or a sounding stone. The Son of Heaven could not get him
to be a minister; no feudal prince could get him for his friend. So it is
that he who is nourishing his mind's aim forgets his body, and he who is
nourishing his body discards all thoughts of gain, and he who is carrying
out the Tao forgets his own mind.
Confucius said to Yen Hui,
'Come here, Hui. Your family is poor, and
your position is low; why should you not take office?'
Hui replied,
'I have no wish to be in office. Outside
the suburban district I possess fields to the extent of fifty acres, which
are sufficient to supply me with congee; and inside it I have ten acres,
which are sufficient to supply me with silk and flax. I find my pleasure in
playing on my lute, and your doctrines, Master, which I study, are
sufficient for my enjoyment; I do not wish to take office.'
Confucius looked sad, changed countenance,
and said, "How good is the mind of Hui! I have heard that he who is
contented won't entangle himself with the pursuit of gain, that he who is
conscious of having gained (the truth) in himself is not afraid of losing
other things, and that he who cultivates the path of inward rectification is
not ashamed though he may have no official position. I have long been
preaching this; but today I see it realised in Hui:—this is what I have
gained.'
7:
Prince Mâu of Kung-shan spoke to Master Kan, saying,
'My body has its place by the streams and
near the sea, but my mind dwells at the court of Wei; —what have you to say
to me in the circumstances?'
Master Kan replied,
'Set the proper value on your life. When
one sets the proper value on his life, gain seems to him unimportant.'
The prince rejoined,
'I know that, but I am not able to overcome
(my Wishes).'
The reply was,
'If you cannot master yourself (in the
matter), follow (your inclinations so that) your spirit may not be
dissatisfied. When you cannot master yourself, and try to force yourself
where your spirit does not follow, this is what is called doing yourself a
double injury; and those who so injure themselves are not among the
long-lived.'
Mâu of Wei was the son of a lord of ten
thousand chariots. For him to live in retirement among crags and caves was
more difficult than for a scholar who had not worn the dress of office.
Although he had not attained to the Tao, he maybe said to have had some idea
of it.
8:
When Confucius was reduced to extreme distress between Khän and Zhâi, for
seven days he had no cooked meat to eat, but only some soup of coarse
vegetables without any rice in it. His countenance wore the appearance of
great exhaustion, and yet he kept playing on his lute and singing inside the
house. Yen Hui (was outside), selecting the vegetables, while Tzu-la and
Tzu-kung were talking together, and said to him,
'The Master has twice been driven from Lu;
he had to flee from Wei; the tree (beneath which he rested) was cut down in
Sung; he was reduced to extreme distress in Shang and Kâu; he is held in a
state of siege here between Khän and Zhâi; any one who kills him will be
held guiltless; there is no prohibition against making him a prisoner. And
yet he keeps playing and singing, thrumming his lute without ceasing. Can a
superior man be without the feeling of shame to such an extent as this?'
Yen Hui gave them no reply, but went in and
told (their words) to Confucius, who pushed aside his lute, and said,
'Yu and Zhze are small men. Call them here,
and I will explain the thing to them.'
When they came in, Tzu-lu said,
'Your present condition may be called one
of extreme distress.'
Confucius replied,
'What words are these! When the Superior
man has free course with his principles, that is what we call his success;
when such course is denied, that is what we call his failure. Now I hold in
my embrace the principles of benevolence and righteousness, and with them
meet the evils of a disordered age; —where is the proof of my being in
extreme distress? Therefore looking inwards and examining myself, I have no
difficulties about my principles; though I encounter such difficulties (as
the present), I do not lose my virtue. It is when winter's cold is come, and
the hoar-frost and snow are falling, that we know the vegetative power of
the pine and cypress. This strait between Khän and Zhâi is fortunate for
me.'
He then took back his lute so that it
emitted a twanging sound, and began to play and sing. (At the same time)
Tzu-lu, hurriedly, seized a shield, and began to dance, while Tzu-kung said,
'I did not know (before) the height of
heaven nor the depth of the earth.'
The ancients who had got the Tao were happy
when reduced to extremity, and happy when having free course. Their
happiness was independent of both these conditions. The Tao and its
characteristics!—let them have these and distress and success come to them
as cold and heat, as wind and rain in the natural order of things. Thus it
was that Hsü Yu found pleasure on the north of the river Ying, and that the
earl of Kung enjoyed himself on the top of mount (Kung).
9:
Shun proposed to resign the throne to his friend, the Northerner Wu-kâi,
who said,
'A strange man you are, O sovereign! You
(first) lived among the channeled fields, and then your place was in the
palace of Yao. And not only so:—you now further wish to extend to me the
stain of your disgraceful doings. I am ashamed to see you. And on this he
threw himself into the abyss of Khing-läng.
When Tang was about to attack Kieh, he took
counsel with Pien Sui, who said,
'It is no business of mine.'
Tang then said,
'To whom should I apply?'
And the other said,
'I don't know.'
Tang then took counsel with Wu Kwang, who
gave the same answer as Pien Sui; and when asked to whom he should apply,
said in the same way,
'I don't know.'
'Suppose,' Tang then said,
'I apply to Î Yin, what do you say about
him?'
The reply was,
'He has a wonderful power in doing what is
disgraceful, and I know nothing more about him!'
Tang thereupon took counsel with Î Yin,
attacked Kieh, and overcame him, after which he proposed to resign the
throne to Pien Sui, who declined it, saying,
'When you were about to attack Kieh, and
sought counsel from me, you must have supposed me to be prepared to be a
robber. Now that you have conquered Kieh, and propose to resign the throne
to me, you must consider me to be greedy. I have been born in an age of
disorder, and a man without principle twice comes, and tries to extend to me
the stain of his disgraceful proceedings!—I cannot bear to hear the
repetition of his proposals.'
With this he threw himself into the Kâu
water and died.
Tang further made proffer of the throne to
Wu Kwang, saying,
'The wise man has planned it; the martial
man has carried it through; and the benevolent man should occupy it:—this
was the method of antiquity. Why should you, Sir, not take the position?'
Wu Kwang refused the proffer, saying,
'To depose the sovereign is contrary to
right; to kill the people is contrary to benevolence. When another has
encountered the risks, if I should accept the gain of his adventure, I
should violate my disinterestedness. I have heard it said, "If it be not
right for him to do so, one should not accept the emolument; in an age of
unprincipled (government), one should not put foot on the soil (of the)
country:"—how much less should I accept this position of honour! I cannot
bear to see you any longer.'
And with this he took a stone oil his back,
and drowned himself in the Lü water.
10:
Formerly, at the rise of the Kâu dynasty, there were two brothers who
lived in Ku-ku, and were named Po-i and Shu-khi. They spoke together and
said,
'We have heard that in the west there is
one who seems to rule according to the Right Way; let us go and see.'
(Accordingly) they came to the south of
(mount) Khi; and when king Wu heard of them, he sent (his brother) Shu Tan
to see them, and make a covenant with them, engaging that their wealth
should be second (only to that of the king), and that their offices should
be of the first rank, and instructing him to bury the covenant with the
blood of the victim after they had smeared the corners of their mouths with
it. The brothers looked at each other and laughed, saying,
'Ah! How strange! This is not what we call
the Right Way. Formerly, when Shän Näng had the kingdom, he offered his
sacrifices at the proper seasons and with the utmost reverence, but without
praying for any blessing. Towards men he was leal-hearted and sincere, doing
his utmost in governing them, but without seeking anything for himself When
it was his pleasure to use administrative measures, he did so; and a sterner
rule when he thought that would be better. He did not by the ruin of others
establish his own power; he did not exalt himself by bringing others low; he
did not, when the time was opportune, seek his own profit. But now Kâu,
seeing the disorder of Yin, has suddenly taken the government into its
hands; with the high it has taken counsel, and with those below employed
bribes; it relies on its troops to maintain the terror of its might; it
makes covenants over victims to prove its good faith; it vaunts its
proceedings to please the masses; it kills and attacks for the sake of
gain:—this is simply overthrowing disorder and changing it for tyranny. We
have heard that the officers of old, in an age of good government, did not
shrink from their duties, and in an age of disorder did not recklessly seek
to remain in office. Now the kingdom is in a state of darkness; the virtue
of Kâu is decayed. Than to join with it and lay our persons in the dust, it
is better for us to abandon it, and maintain the purity of our conduct.'
The two princes then went north to the hill
of Shâu-yang, where they died of starvation. If men such as they, in the
matter of riches and honours, can manage to avoid them, (let them do so);
but they must not depend on their lofty virtue to pursue any perverse
course, only gratifying their own tendencies, and not doing service in their
time:—this was the style of these two princes.
1:
Confucius was on terms of friendship with Liu-hsi a Ki, who had a brother
named Tao Kih. This Tao Kih had 9,000 followers, who marched at their will
through the kingdom, assailing and oppressing the different princes. They
dug through walls and broke into houses; they drove away people's cattle and
horses; they carried off people's wives and daughters. In their greed to
get, they forgot the claims of kinship, and paid no regard to their parents
and brethren. They did not sacrifice to their ancestors. Wherever they
passed through the country, in the larger states the people guarded their
city walls, and in the smaller the people took to their strongholds. All
were distressed by them.
Confucius spoke to Liu-hsiâKi, saying,
'Fathers should be able to lay down the law
to their sons, and elder to instruct their younger brothers. If they are
unable to do so, they do not fulfil the duties of the relationships which
they sustain. You, Sir, are one of the most talented officers of the age,
and your younger brother is this Robber Kih. He is a pest in the kingdom,
and you are not able to instruct him better; I cannot but be ashamed of you,
and I beg to go for you and give him counsel.'
Liu-hsiâKi replied,
'You say, Sir, that fathers must be able to
lay down the law to their sons, and elder to instruct their younger
brothers, but if sons won't listen to the orders of their fathers, nor the
younger receive the lessons of their elder brothers, though one may have
your powers of persuasion, what is to be done? And, moreover, Kih is a man
whose mind is like a gushing fountain, and his will like a whirlwind; he is
strong enough to resist all enemies, and clever enough to gloss over his
wrong-doings. If you agree with him, he is glad; if you oppose him, he is
enraged; and he readily meets men with the language of abuse. You must not
go to him.'
Confucius, however, did not attend to this
advice. With Yen Hui as his charioteer, and Tzu-kung seated on the right, he
went to see Tao Kih, whom he found with his followers halted on the south of
Tai-shan, and mincing men's livers, which he gave them to eat. Confucius
alighted from his carriage, and went forward, till he saw the usher, to whom
he said,
'I, Khung Khiu of Li, have heard of the
general's lofty righteousness,' bowing twice respectfully to the man as he
said so. The usher went in and announced the visitor. But when Tao Kih heard
of the arrival, he flew into a great rage; his eyes became like blazing
stars, and his hair rose up and touched his cap.
'Is not this fellow,' said he, 'Khung Khiu,
that artful hypocrite of Lu ? Tell him from me, "You invent speeches and
babble away, appealing without ground to (the examples of) Wän and Wu The
ornaments on your cap are as many as the branches of a tree, and your girdle
is (a piece of skin) from the ribs of a dead ox. The more you talk, the more
nonsense you utter. You get your food without (the labour of) ploughing, and
your clothes without (that of) weaving. You wag your lips and make your
tongue a drum-stick. You arbitrarily decide what is right and what is wrong,
thereby leading astray the princes throughout the kingdom, and making its
learned scholars not occupy their thoughts with their proper business. You
recklessly set up your filial piety and fraternal duty, and curry favour
with the feudal princes, the wealthy and the noble. Your offence is great;
your crime is very heavy. Take yourself off home at once. If you do not do
so, I will take your liver, and add it to the provision for today's food."'
But Confucius sent in another message,
saying,
'I enjoy the good will of (your brother) Ki,
and I wish and hope to tread the ground beneath your tent.'
When the usher had communicated this
message, Tao Kih said,
'Make him come forward.'
On this Confucius hastened forwards.
Declining to take a mat, he drew hastily back, and bowed twice to Tao Kih,
who in a great rage stretched his legs apart, laid his hand on his sword,
and with glaring eyes and a voice like the growl of a nursing tigress, said,
'Come forwards, Khiu. If what you say be in
accordance with my mind, you shall live; but, if it be contrary to it, you
shall die.'
Confucius replied,
'I have heard that everywhere under the sky
there are three (most excellent) qualities. To be naturally tall and large,
to be elegant and handsome without a peer, so that young and old, noble and
mean, are pleased to look on him; —this is the highest of those qualities.
To comprehend both heaven and earth in his wisdom, and to be able to speak
eloquently on all subjects; —this is the middle one of them. To be brave and
courageous, resolute and daring, gathering the multitudes round him, and
leading on his troops; —this is the lowest of them. Whoever possesses one of
these qualities is fit to stand with his face to the south, and style
himself a Prince. But you, General, unite in yourself all the three. Your
person is eight cubits and two inches in height; there is a brightness about
your face and a light in your eyes; your lips look as if stained with
vermilion; your teeth are like rows of precious shells; your voice is
attuned to the musical tubes, and yet you are named "The Robber Kih." I am
ashamed of you, General, and cannot approve of you. If you are inclined to
listen to me, I should like to go as your commissioner to Wu and Yüeh in the
south; to Khi and Lu in the north; to Sung and Wei in the east; and to Zin
and Ku in the west. I will get them to build for you a great city several
hundred li in size, to establish under it towns containing several hundred
thousands of inhabitants, and honour you there as a feudal lord. The kingdom
will see you begin your career afresh; you will cease from your wars and
disband your soldiers; you will collect and nourish your brethren, and along
with them offer the sacrifices to your ancestors:—this will be a course
befitting a sage and an officer of ability, and will fulfil the wishes of
the whole kingdom.'
'Come forward, Khiu,' said Tao Kih, greatly
enraged.
'Those who can be persuaded by
considerations of gain, and to whom remonstrances may be addressed with
success, are all ignorant, low, and ordinary people. That I am tall and
large, elegant and handsome, so that all who see me are pleased with me;
—this is an effect of the body left me by my parents. Though you were not to
praise me for it, do I not know it myself? And I have heard that he who
likes to praise men to their face will also like to speak ill of them behind
their back. And when you tell me of a great wall and a multitudinous people,
this is to try to persuade me by considerations of gain, and to cocker me as
one of the ordinary people. But how could such advantages last for long? Of
all great cities there is none so great as the whole kingdom, which was
possessed by Yao and Shun, while their descendants (now) have not so much
territory as would admit an awl. Tang and Wa were both set up as the Sons of
Heaven, but in after ages (their posterity) were cut off and extinguished;
—was not this because the gain of their position was so great a prize?
'And moreover I have heard that anciently
birds and beasts were numerous, and men were few, so that they lived in
nests in order to avoid the animals. In the daytime they gathered acorns and
chestnuts, and in the night they roosted on the trees; and on account of
this they are called the people of the Nest-builder. Anciently the people
did not know the use of clothes. In summer they collected great stores of
faggots, and in winter kept themselves warm by means of them; and on account
of this they are called the people who knew how to take care of their lives.
In the age of Shän Näng, the people lay down in simple innocence, and rose
up in quiet security. They knew their mothers, but did not know their
fathers. They dwelt along with the elks and deer. They ploughed and ate;
they wove and made clothes; they had no idea of injuring one another:—this
was the grand time of Perfect virtue. Hwang-Ti, however, was not able to
perpetuate this virtuous state. He fought with Khih-yu in the wild of Ko-lu
till the blood flowed over a hundred li. When Yao and Shun arose, they
instituted their crowd of ministers. Tang banished his lord. King Wu killed
Kâu. Since that time the strong have oppressed the weak, and the many
tyrannised over the few. From Tang and Wu downwards, (the rulers) have all
been promoters of disorder and confusion. You yourself now cultivate and
inculcate the ways of Wän and Wu; you handle whatever subjects are anywhere
discussed for the instruction of future ages. With your peculiar robe and
narrow girdle, with your deceitful speech and hypocritical conduct, you
delude the lords of the different states, and are seeking for riches and
honours. There is no greater robber than you are; —why does not all the
world call you the Robber Khiu, instead of styling me the Robber Kih?
'You prevailed by your sweet speeches on
Tzu-lu, and made him your follower; you made him put away his high cap, lay
aside his long sword, and receive your instructions, so that all the world
said, "Khung Khiu is able to arrest violence and repress the wrong-doer; "
but in the end, when Tzu-lu wished to slay the ruler of Wei, and the affair
proved unsuccessful, his body was exhibited in pickle over the eastern gate
of the capital; —so did your teaching of him come to nothing.
'Do you call yourself a scholar of talent,
a sage? Why, you were twice driven out of Lu; you had to run away from Wei;
you were reduced to extremity in Khi; you were held in a state of siege
between Khän and Zhâi; there is no resting-place for your person in the
kingdom; your instructions brought Tzu-lu to pickle. Such have been the
misfortunes (attending your course). You have done no good either for
yourself or for others; —how can your doctrines be worth being thought much
of?
'There is no one whom the world exalts so
much as it does Hwang-Ti, and still he was not able to perfect his virtue,
but fought in the wilderness of Ko-lu, till the blood flowed over a hundred
li. Yao was not kind to his son. Shun was not filial. Yü was paralysed on
one side. Tang banished his sovereign. King Wu smote Kâu. King Wän was
imprisoned in Yu-li. These are the six men of whom the world thinks the most
highly, yet when we accurately consider their history, we see that for the
sake of gain they all disallowed their true (nature), and did violence to
its proper qualities and tendencies:—their conduct cannot be thought of but
with deep shame.
'Among those whom the world calls men of
ability and virtue were (the brothers) Po-Î and Shu-khi. They declined the
rule of Ku-ku, and died of starvation on the hill of Shâu-yang, leaving
their bones and flesh unburied. Pâo Ziâo vaunted his conduct, and condemned
the world, but he died with his arms round a tree. When Shän-thu Ti 's
remonstrances were not listened to, he fastened a stone on his back, and
threw himself into the Ho, where he was eaten by the fishes and turtles.
Master Kieh-thui was the most devoted (of followers), and cut a piece from
his thigh as food for duke Wän. But when the duke afterwards overlooked him
(in his distribution of favours), he was angry, and went away, and was
burned to death with a tree in his arms. Wei Shäng had made an appointment
with a girl to meet him under a bridge; but when she did not come, and the
water rose around him, he would not go away, and died with his arms round
one of the pillars. (The deaths of) these four men were not different from
those of the dog that is torn in pieces, the pig that is borne away by a
current, or the beggar (drowned in a ditch) with his alms-gourd in his hand.
They were all caught as in a net by their (desire for) fame, not caring to
nourish their life to its end, as they were bound to do.
'Among those whom the world calls faithful
ministers there have been none like the prince Pi-kan and Wu Tzu-hsü. But
Tzu-hsü 's (dead) body was cast into the Kiang, and the heart of Pi-kan was
cut out. These two were what the world calls loyal ministers, but the end
has been that everybody laughs at them. Looking at all the above cases, down
to those of Tzu-hsü and Pi-kan, there is not one worthy to be honoured; and
as to the admonitions which you, Khiu, wish to impress on me, if you tell me
about the state of the dead, I am unable to know anything about it; if you
tell me about the things of men (alive), they are only such as I have
stated, what I have heard and know all about. I will now tell you, Sir, my
views about the condition of man. The eyes wish to look on beauty; the cars
to hear music; the mouth to enjoy flavours; the will to be gratified. The
greatest longevity man can reach is a hundred years; a medium longevity is
eighty years; the lowest longevity is sixty. Take away sickness, pining,
bereavement, mourning, anxieties, and calamities, the times when, in any of
these, one can open his mouth and laugh, are only four or five days in a
month. Heaven and earth have no limit of duration, but the death of man has
its (appointed) time. Take the longest amount of a limited time, and compare
it with what is unlimited, its brief existence is not different from the
passing of a crevice by one of king Mu 's horses. Those who cannot gratify
their will and natural aims, and nourish their appointed longevity, are all
unacquainted with the (right) Way (of life). I cast from me, Khiu, all that
you say. Be quick and go. Hurry back and say not a word more. Your Way is
only a wild recklessness, deceitful, artful, vain, and hypocritical. It is
not available to complete the true (nature of man); it is not worth talking
about!'
Confucius bowed twice, and hurried away. He
went out at the door, and mounted his carriage. Three times he missed the
reins as he tried to take hold of them. His eyes were dazed, and he could
not see; and his colour was that of slaked lime. He laid hold of the
cross-bar, holding his head down, and unable to draw his breath. When he got
back, outside the east gate of (the capital of) Lu, he encountered Liu-hsiâKi,
who said to him,
'Here you are, right in the gate. For some
days I have not seen you. Your carriage and horses are travel-stained; —have
you not been to see Tao Kih?'
Confucius looked up to heaven, sighed, and
said,
'Yes.'
The other went on,
'And did he not set himself in opposition
to all your views, as I said he would do?'
'He did. My case has been that of the man
who cauterised himself without being ill. I rushed away, stroked the tiger's
head, played with his whiskers, and narrowly escaped his mouth.'
2:
Tzu-kang asked Mân Kâu-the, saying,
'Why Don't you pursue a (righteous) course?
Without such a course you won't be believed in; unless you are believed in,
you won't be employed in office; and if not employed in office, you won't
acquire gain. Thus, if you look at the matter from the point of reputation,
or estimate it from the point of gain, a righteous course is truly the right
thing. If you discard the thought of reputation and gain, yet when you think
over the thing in your own mind, you will see that the scholar should not be
a single day without pursuing a (righteous) course.'
Man Kau-teh said,
'He who has no shame becomes rich, and he
in whom many believe becomes illustrious. Thus the greatest fame and gain
would seem to spring from being without shame and being believed in.
Therefore if you look at the matter from the point of reputation, or
estimate it from the point of gain, to be believed in is the right thing. If
you discard the thought of fame and gain, and think over the thing in your
own mind, you will see that the scholar in the course which he pursues is
(simply) holding fast his Heavenly (nature, and gaining nothing).'
Tzu-kang said,
'Formerly Kieh and Kâu each enjoyed the
honour of being the sovereign, and all the wealth of the kingdom was his;
but if you now say to a (mere) money-grabber, "Your conduct is like that of
Kieh or Kâu," he will look ashamed, and resent the imputation:—(these two
sovereigns) are despised by the smallest men. Kung-ni and Mo Ti (on the
other hand) were poor, and common men; but if you say to a Prime Minister
that his conduct is like that of Kung-ni or Mo Ti, then he will be put out
and change countenance, and protest that he is not worthy (to be so spoken
of):—(these two philosophers) are held to be truly noble by (all) scholars.
Thus it is that the position of sovereign does not necessarily connect with
being thought noble, nor the condition of being poor and of common rank with
being thought mean. The difference of being thought noble or mean arises
from the conduct being good or bad.'
Mân Kâu-teh replied,
'Small robbers are put in prison; a great
robber becomes a feudal lord; and in the gate of the feudal lord your
righteous scholars will be found. For instance, Hsiâo-po, the duke Hwan,
killed his elder brother, and took his sister-in-law to himself, and yet
Kwan Kung became his minister; and Thien Khang, styled Master Keng, killed
his ruler, and usurped the state, and yet Confucius received a present of
silks from him. In their discussions they would condemn the men, but in
their conduct they abased themselves before them. In this way their words
and actions must have been at war together in their breasts; —was it not a
contradiction and perversity? As it is said in a book, "Who is bad? and who
is good? The successful is regarded as the Head, and the unsuccessful as the
Tail."
Tzu-kang said,
'If you do not follow the usual course of
what is held to be right, but observe no distinction between the near and
remote degrees of kin, no difference between the noble and the mean, no
order between the old and the young, then how shall a separation be made of
the fivefold arrangement (of the virtues), and the six parties (in the
social organisation)?'
Mân Kâu-teh replied,
'Yao killed his eldest son, and Shun
banished his half-brother:—did they observe the rules about the different
degrees of kin? Tang deposed Kieh; king Wa overthrew Kâu:—did they observe
the righteousness that should obtain between the noble and the mean? King Ki
took the place of his elder brother, and the duke of Kâu killed his:—did
they observe the order that should obtain between the elder and the younger?
The Literati make hypocritical speeches; the followers of Mo hold that all
should be loved equally:—do we find in them the separation of the fivefold
arrangement (of the virtues), and the six parties (in the social
organisation)? And further, you, Sir, are all for reputation, and I am all
for gain; but where the actual search for reputation and gain may not be in
accordance with principle and won't bear to be examined in the light of the
right way, let me and you refer the matter tomorrow to the decision of Wu-yo.'
(This Wu-yo) said,
'The small man pursues after wealth; the
superior man pursues after reputation. The way in which they change their
feelings and alter their nature is different; but if they were to cast away
what they do, and replace it with doing nothing, they would be the same.
Hence it is said, "Do not be a small man; —return and pursue after the
Heavenly in you. Do not be a superior man; —follow the rule of the Heavenly
in you. Be it crooked, be it straight, view the thing in the light of Heaven
as revealed in you. Look all round on every side of it, and as the time
indicates, cease your endeavours. Be it right, be it wrong, hold fast the
ring in yourself in which all conditions converge. Alone by yourself, carry
out your idea; ponder over the right way. Do not turn your course; do not
try to complete your righteousness. You will fail in what you do. Do not
haste to be rich; do not follow after your perfection. If you do, you will
lose the heavenly in you."
'Pi-kan had his heart cut out; Tzu-hsü had
his eyes gouged out:—such were the evil consequences of their loyalty. The
upright person bore witness against his father; Wei Shäng was drowned:—such
were the misfortunes of good faith. Master Pao stood till he was dried up;
Master Shän would not defend himself:—such were the injuries brought on by
disinterestedness. Confucius did not see his mother; Master Khwang did not
see his father:—such were the failures of the righteous. These are instances
handed down from former ages, and talked about in these later times. They
show us how superior men, in their determination to be correct in their
words and resolute in their conduct, paid the penalty of these misfortunes,
and were involved in these distresses.'
3:
Mr. Dissatisfied, asked Mr. Know-the-Mean, saying,
'There is no man after all who does not
strive for reputation and pursue after gain. When men are rich, then others
go to them. Going to them, they put themselves beneath them. In that
position they do honour to them as nobler than themselves. But to see others
taking that position and doing honour to us is the way to prolong life, and
to secure the rest of the body and the satisfaction of the mind. You alone,
Sir, however, have no idea of this. Is it that your knowledge is deficient?
Is it that you have the knowledge, but want the strength to carry it into
practice? Or is it that your mind is made up to do what you consider right,
and never allow yourself to forget it?'
Know-the-Mean replied,
'Here now is this man judging of us, his
contemporaries, and living in the same neighbourhood as himself, that we
consider ourselves scholars who have abjured all vulgar ways and risen above
the world. He is entirely without the thought of submitting to the rule of
what is right. He therefore studies ancient times and the present, and the
differing questions about the right and wrong, and agrees with the vulgar
ideas and influences of the age, abandoning what is most important and
discarding what is most honourable, in order to be free to act as he does.
But is he not wide of the mark when he thinks that this is the way to
promote long life, and to secure the rest of the body and the satisfaction
of the mind? He has his painful afflictions and his quiet repose, but he
does not inquire how his body is so variously affected; he has his
apprehensive terrors, and his happy joys, but he does not inquire how his
mind has such different experiences. He knows how to pursue his course, but
he does not know why he does so. Even if he had the dignity of the Son of
Heaven, and all the wealth of the kingdom were his, he would not be beyond
the reach of misfortunes and evils.'
Dissatisfied rejoined,
'But riches are in every way advantageous
to man. With them his attainment of the beautiful and mastery of every art
become what the perfect man cannot obtain nor the sagely man reach to; his
appropriation of the bravery and strength of others enables him to exercise
a powerful sway; his availing himself of the wisdom and plans of others
makes him be accounted intelligent and discriminating; his taking advantage
of the virtues of others makes him be esteemed able and good. Though he may
not be the holder of a state, he is looked to with awe as a ruler and
father. Moreover, music, beauty, with the pleasures of the taste and of
power, are appreciated by men's minds and rejoiced in without any previous
learning of them; the body reposes in them without waiting for the example
of others. Desire and dislike, avoidance and pursuit, do not require any
master; —this is the nature of man. Though the world may condemn one's
indulgence of them, who can refrain from it?'
Know-the-Mean replied,
'The action of the wise is directed for the
good of the people, but they do not go against the (proper) rule and degree.
Therefore when they have enough, they do not strive (for more); they have no
further object, and so they do not seek for one. When they have not enough,
they will seek for it; they will strive for it in every quarter, and yet not
think of themselves as greedy. If they have (already) a superfluity, they
will decline (any more); they will decline the throne, and yet not think of
themselves as disinterested:—the conditions of disinterestedness and
greediness are (with them) not from the constraint of anything external.
Through their exercise of introspection, their power may be that of the
sovereign, but they won't in their nobility be arrogant to others; their
wealth may be that of the whole kingdom, but they won't in their possession
of it make a mock of others. They estimate the evils to which they are
exposed, and are anxious about the reverses which they may experience. They
think how their possessions may be injurious to their nature, and therefore
they will decline and not accept them; —but not because they seek for
reputation and praise.
'Yao and Shun were the sovereigns, and
harmony prevailed. It did so, not because of their benevolence towards the
people; —they would not, for what was (deemed) admirable, injure their
lives. Shan Küan and Hsü Yu might have been the sovereigns, but they would
not receive the throne; —not that they declined it without purpose, but they
would not by its occupancy injure themselves. These all followed after what
was advantageous to them, and declined what was injurious, and all the world
celebrates their superiority. Thus, though they enjoy the distinction, they
did what they did, not for the sake of the reputation and praise.'
Dissatisfied (continued his argument),
saying,
'In thus thinking it necessary for their
reputation, they bitterly distressed their bodies, denied themselves what
was pleasant, and restricted themselves to a bare sustenance in order to
sustain their life; but so they had life-long distress, and long-continued
pressure till their death arrived.'
Know-the-Mean replied,
'Tranquil ease is happiness; a superfluity
is injurious:—so it is with all things, and especially it is so, where the
superfluity is of wealth. The ears of the rich are provided with the music
of bells, drums, flageolets and flutes; and their mouths are stuffed with
the flesh of fed beasts and with wine of the richest flavour; so are their
desires satisfied, till they forget their proper business:—theirs may be
pronounced a condition of disorder. Sunk deeply in their self-sufficiency,
they resemble individuals ascending a height with a heavy burden on their
backs:—their condition may be pronounced one of bitter suffering. They covet
riches, thinking to derive comfort from them; they covet power, and would
fain monopolise it; when quiet and retired, they are drowned in luxurious
indulgence; their persons seem to shine, and they are full of boasting:—they
may be said to be in a state of disease. In their desire to be rich and
striving for gain, they fill their stores, and, deaf to all admonition,
refuse to desist from their course. They are even more elated, and hold on
their way:—their conduct may be pronounced disgraceful. When their wealth is
amassed till they cannot use it, they clasp it to their breasts and won't
part with it; when their hearts are distressed with their very fulness, they
still seek for more and won't desist:—their condition may be said to be sad.
In-doors they are apprehensive of pilfering and begging thieves, and
out-of-doors they are afraid of being injured by plundering robbers;
in-doors they have many chambers and partitions, and out-of-doors they do
not dare to go alone:—they may be said to be in a state of (constant) alarm.
'These six conditions are the most
deplorable in the world, but they forget them all, and have lost their
faculty of judgement. When the evil comes, though they begged it with all
the powers of their nature, and by the sacrifice of all their wealth, they
could not bring back one day of untroubled peace. When they look for their
reputation, it is not to be seen; when they seek for their wealth, it is not
to be got. To task their thoughts, and destroy their bodies, striving for
(such an end as) this; —is it not a case of great delusion?'
1:
Formerly, king Wän of Kâo delighted in the sword-fight. More than three
thousand men, masters of the weapon, appeared as his guests, lining the way
on either side of his gate, and fighting together before him day and night.
Over a hundred of them would die or be (severely) wounded in the course of a
year, but he was never weary of looking on (at their engagements), so fond
was he of them. The thing continued for three years, when the kingdom began
to decay, and other states to plan measures against it.
The crown-prince Khwei was distressed, and
laid the case before his attendants, saying,
'If any one can persuade the king, and put
an end to these swordsmen, I will give him a thousand ounces of silver.'
His attendants said,
'(Only) Master Chuang is able to do this.'
Thereupon the prince sent men with a
thousand ounces of silver to offer to Master Chuang, who, however, would not
accept them, but went with the messengers. When he saw the prince, he said,
'O prince, what have you to say to Kâu, and
why would you give me the silver?'
The prince replied,
'I have heard that you, master, are
sagacious and sage. I sent you respectfully the thousand ounces of silver,
as a prelude to the silks and other gifts'. But as you decline to receive
them, how dare I now tell you (what I wished from you)?'
Master Chuang rejoined,
'I have heard, O prince, that what you
wanted me for was to wean the king from what is his delight. Suppose that in
trying to persuade his Majesty I should offend him, and not fulfil your
expectation, I shall be punished with death; —and could I then enjoy this
silver? Or suppose that I shall succeed in persuading his Majesty, and
accomplish what you desire, what is there in the kingdom of Kâo that I might
ask for which I would not get?'
The crown-prince said,
'Yes; but my (father), the king, will see
none but swordsmen.'
Master Chuang replied,
'I know; but I am expert in the use of the
sword.'
'That is well,' observed the prince; 'but
the swordsmen whom his Majesty sees all have their hair in a tangle, with
whiskers projecting out. They wear slouching caps with coarse and
unornamented tassels, and their coats are cut short behind. They have
staring eyes, and talk about the hazards of their game. The king is
delighted with all this; but now you are sure to present yourself to him in
your scholar's dress, and this will stand greatly in the way of your
success.'
Master Chuang said,
'I will then, with your leave, get me a
swordsman's dress.'
This was ready in three days, and when he
appeared in it before the prince, the latter went with him to introduce him
to the king, who then drew his sword from its scabbard and waited for him.
When Master Chuang entered the door of the hall, he did not hurry forward,
nor, when he saw the king, did he bow. The king asked him,
'What do you want to teach me, Sir, that
you have got the prince to mention you beforehand?'
The reply was,
'I have heard that your Majesty is fond of
the sword-fight, and therefore I have sought an interview with you on the
ground of (my skill in the use of) the sword.'
'What can you do with your sword against an
opponent?'
'Let me meet with an opponent every ten
paces, my sword would deal with him, so that I should not be stopped in a
march of a thousand li.'
The king was delighted with him, and said,
'You have not your match in the kingdom.'
Master Chuang replied,
'A good swordsman first makes a feint
(against his opponent), then seems to give him an advantage, and finally
gives his thrust, reaching him before he can return the blow. I should like
to have an opportunity to show you my skill.'
The king said,
'Stop (for a little), Master. Go to your
lodging, and wait for my orders. I will make arrangements for the play, and
then call you.'
The king accordingly made trial of his
swordsmen for seven days, till more than sixty of them were killed, or
(severely) wounded. He then selected five or six men, and made them bring
their swords and take their places beneath the hall, after which he called
Master Chuang, and said to him,
'Today I am going to make (you and) these
men show what you can do with your swords.'
'I have long been looking for the
opportunity,' replied Master Chuang. The king then asked him what would be
the length of the sword which he would use; and he said,
'Any length will suit me, but I have three
swords, any one of which I will use, as may please your Majesty. Let me
first tell you of them, and then go to the arena.'
'I should like to hear about the three
swords,' said the king; and Master Chuang went on,
'There is the sword of the Son of Heaven;
the sword of a feudal prince; and the sword of a common man.'
'What about the sword of the Son of
Heaven?'
'This sword has Yen-khi and Shih-khang for
its point; Khi and (Mount) Tâi for its edge; Zin and Wei for its back; Kâu
and Sung for its hilt; Han and Wei for its sheath. It is embraced by the
wild tribes all around; it is wrapped up in the four seasons; it is bound
round by the Sea of Po; and its girdle is the enduring hills. It is
regulated by the five elements; its wielding is by means of Punishments and
Kindness; its unsheathing is like that of the Yin and Yang; it is held fast
in the spring and summer; it is put in action in the autumn and winter. When
it is thrust forward, there is nothing in front of it; when lifted up, there
is nothing above it; when laid down, there is nothing below it; when wheeled
round, there is nothing left on any side of it; above, it cleaves the
floating clouds; and below, it penetrates to every division of the earth.
Let this sword be once used, and the princes are all reformed, and the whole
kingdom submits. This is the sword of the Son of Heaven.'
King Wän looked lost in amazement, and said
again,
'And what about the sword of a feudal
lord?'
(Master Chuang) replied,
'This sword has wise and brave officers for
its point; pure and disinterested officers for its edge; able and honourable
officers for its back; loyal and sage officers for its hilt; valiant and
eminent officers for its sheath. When this sword is thrust directly forward,
as in the former case, there is nothing in front of it; when directed
upwards, there is nothing above it; when laid down, there is nothing below
it; when wheeled round, there is nothing on any side of it. Above, its law
is taken from the round heaven, and is in accordance with the three
luminaries; below, its law is taken from the square earth, and is in
accordance with the four seasons; between, it is in harmony with the minds
of the people, and in all the parts of the state there is peace. Let this
sword be once used, and you seem to hear the crash of the thunder-peal.
Within the four borders there are none who do not respectfully submit, and
obey the orders of the ruler. This is the sword of the feudal lord.'
'And what about the sword of the common
man?' asked the king (once more).
(Master Chuang) replied,
'The sword of the common man (is wielded
by) those who have their hair in a tangle, with whiskers projecting out; who
wear slouching caps with coarse and unornamented tassels, and have their
coats cut short behind; who have staring eyes, and talk (only) about the
hazards (of their game). They hit at one another before you. Above, the
sword slashes through the neck; and below, it scoops out the liver and
lungs. This is the sword of the common man. (The users of it) are not
different from fighting cocks; any morning their lives are brought to an
end; they are of no use in the affairs of the state. Your Majesty occupies
the seat of the Son of Heaven, and that you should be so fond of the
swordsmanship of such common men, is unworthy, as I venture to think, of
your Majesty.'
On this the king drew Master Chuang with
him, and went up to the top of the hall, where the cook set forth a meal,
which the king walked round three times (unable to sit down to it). Master
Chuang said to him,
'Sit down quietly, Great King, and calm
yourself. I have said all I wished to say about swords.'
King Wän, thereafter, did not quit the
palace for three months, and the swordsmen all killed themselves in their
own rooms.
Confucius, rambling in the forest of Tzu-wei, stopped and sat down by the
Apricot altar. The disciples began to read their books, while he proceeded
to play on his lute, singing as he did so. He had not half finished his
ditty when an old fisherman stepped down from his boat, and came towards
them. His beard and eyebrows were turning white; his hair was all uncombed;
and his sleeves hung idly down. He walked thus up from the bank, till he got
to the dry ground, when he stopped, and, with his left hand holding one of
his knees, and the right hand at his chin, listened. When the ditty was
finished, he beckoned to Tzu-kung and Tzu-lu, who both responded and went to
him. Pointing to Confucius, he said,
'Who is he?'
Tzu-lu replied,
'He is the Superior Man of Lu.'
'And of what family is he?'
'He is of the Khung family.'
'And what is the occupation of this Mr.
Khung?'
To this question, Tzu-la gave no reply, but
Tzu-kung replied,
'This scion of the Khung family devotes
himself in his own nature to leal-heartedness and sincerity; in his conduct
he manifests benevolence and righteousness; he cultivates the ornaments of
ceremonies and music; he pays special attention to the relationships of
society; above, he would promote loyalty to the hereditary lords; below, he
seeks the transformation of all classes of the people; his object being to
benefit the kingdom:—this is what Mr. Khung devotes himself to.'
The stranger further asked,
'Is he a ruler possessed of territory?'
'No,' was Sze-kung's reply.
'Is he the assistant of any prince or
king?'
'No; ' and on this the other began to laugh
and to retrace his steps, saying as he went,
'Yes, benevolence is benevolence! But I am
afraid he won't escape (the evils incident to humanity). By embittering his
mind and toiling his body, he is imperilling his true (nature)! Alas! how
far removed is he from the proper way (of life)!'
Tzu-kung returned, and reported (what the
man had said) to Confucius, who pushed his lute aside, and arose, saying,
'Is he not a sage?' - and down the slope he
went in search of him. When he reached the edge of the lake, there was the
fisherman with his pole, dragging the boat towards him. Turning round and
seeing Confucius, he came back towards him and stood up. Confucius then drew
back, bowed to him twice, and went forward.
'What do you want with me, Sir?' asked the
stranger. The reply was,
'A little while ago, my Master, you broke
off the thread of your remarks and went away. Inferior to you, I don't know
what you wished to say, and have ventured here to wait for your
instructions, fortunate if I may but hear the sound of your words to
complete the assistance that you can give me!'
'Ah!' responded the stranger, 'how great is
your love of learning!'
Confucius bowed twice, and then rose up,
and said,
'Since I was young, I have cultivated
learning till I am now sixty-nine years old; but I have not had an
opportunity of hearing the perfect teaching; —dare I but listen to you with
a humble and unprejudiced mind?'
The stranger replied,
'Like seeks to like, and (birds) of the
same note respond to one another; —this is a rule of Heaven. Allow me to
explain what I am in possession of, and to pass over (from its standpoint)
to the things which occupy you. What you occupy yourself with are the
affairs of men. When the sovereign, the feudal lords, the great officers,
and the common people, these four classes, do what is correct (in their
several positions), we have the beauty of good order; and when they leave
their proper duties, there ensues the greatest disorder. When the officials
attend to their duties, and the common people are anxiously concerned about
their business, there is no encroachment on one another's rights.
'Fields running to waste; leaking rooms;
insufficiency of food and clothing; taxes unprovided for; want of harmony
among wives and concubines; and want of order between old and young; —these
are the troubles of the common people.
'Incompetency for their charges;
inattention to their official business; want of probity in conduct;
carelessness and idleness in subordinates; failure of merit and excellence;
and uncertainty of rank and emolument:—these are the troubles of great
officers.
'No loyal ministers at their courts; the
clans in their states rebellious; want of skill in their mechanics; articles
of tribute of bad quality; late appearances at court in spring and autumn;
and the dissatisfaction of the sovereign:—these are the troubles of the
feudal lords.
'Want of harmony between the Yin and Yang;
unseasonableness of cold and heat, affecting all things injuriously;
oppression and disorder among the feudal princes, their presuming to plunder
and attack one another, to the injury of the people ceremonies and music
ill-regulated; the resources for expenditure exhausted or deficient; the
social relationships uncared for; and the people abandoned to licentious
disorder:—these are the troubles of the Son of Heaven and his ministers.
'Now, Sir, you have not the high rank of a
ruler, a feudal lord, or a minister of the royal court, nor are you in the
inferior position of a great minister, with his departments of business, and
yet you take it on you to regulate ceremonies and music, and to give special
attention to the relationships of society, with a view to transform the
various classes of the people:—is it not an excessive multiplication of your
business?
'And moreover men are liable to eight
defects, and (the conduct of) affairs to four evils; of which we must by all
means take account.
'To take the management of affairs which do
not concern him is called monopolising. To bring forward a subject which no
one regards is called loquacity. To lead men on by speeches made to please
them is called sycophancy. To praise men without regard to right or wrong is
called flattery. To be fond of speaking of men's wickedness is called
calumny. To part friends and separate relatives is called mischievousness.
To praise a man deceitfully, or in the same way fix on him the character of
being bad, is called depravity. Without reference to their being good or
bad, to agree with men with double face, in order to steal a knowledge of
what they wish, is called being dangerous. Those eight defects produce
disorder among other men and injury to one's self. A superior man won't make
a friend of one who has them, nor will an intelligent ruler make him his
minister.
'To speak of what I called the four
evils:—To be fond of conducting great affairs, changing and altering what is
of long-standing, to obtain for one's self the reputation of meritorious
service, is called ambition; to claim all wisdom and intrude into affairs,
encroaching on the work of others, and representing it as one's own, is
called greediness; to see his errors without changing them, and to go on
more resolutely in his own way when remonstrated with, is called obstinacy;
when another agrees with himself, to approve of him, and, however good he
may be, when he disagrees, to disapprove of him, is called boastful conceit.
These are the four evils. When one can put away the eight defects, and allow
no course to the four evils, he begins to be capable of being taught.'
Confucius looked sorrowful and sighed.
(Again) he bowed twice, and then rose up and said,
'I was twice driven from Lu. I had to flee
from Wei; the tree under which I rested was cut down in Sung; I was kept in
a state of siege between Khän and Zhâi. I don't know what errors I had
committed that I came to be misrepresented on these four occasions (and
suffered as I did).'
The stranger looked grieved (at these
words), changed countenance, and said,
'Very difficult it is, Sir, to make you
understand. There was a man who was frightened at his shadow and disliked to
see his footsteps, so that he ran to escape from them. But the more
frequently he lifted his feet, the more numerous his footprints were; and
however fast he ran, his shadow did not leave him. He thought he was going
too slow, and ran on with all his speed without stopping, till his strength
was exhausted and he died. He did not know that, if he had stayed in a shady
place, his shadow would have disappeared, and that if he had remained still,
he would have lost his footprints:—his stupidity was excessive! And you,
Sir, exercise your judgement on the questions about benevolence and
righteousness; you investigate the points where agreement and difference
touch; you look at the changes from movement to rest and from rest to
movement; you have mastered the rules of receiving and giving; you have
defined the feelings of liking and disliking; you have harmonised the limits
of joy and anger:—and yet you have hardly been able to escape (the troubles
of which you speak). If you earnestly cultivated your own person, and
carefully guarded your (proper) truth, simply rendering to others what was
due to them, then you would have escaped such entanglements. But now, when
you do not cultivate your own person, and make the cultivation of others
your object, are you not occupying yourself with what is external?'
Confucius with an air of sadness said,
'Allow me to ask what it is that you call
my proper Truth.'
The stranger replied,
'A man's proper Truth is pure sincerity in
its highest degree; —without this pure sincerity one cannot move others.
Hence if one (only) forces himself to wail, however sadly he may do so, it
is not (real) sorrow; if he forces himself to be angry, however he may seem
to be severe, he excites no awe; if he forces himself to show affection,
however he may smile, he awakens no harmonious reciprocation. True grief,
without a sound, is yet sorrowful; true anger, without any demonstration,
yet awakens awe; true affection, without a smile, yet produces a harmonious
reciprocation. Given this truth within, it exercises a spiritual efficacy
without, and this is why we count it so valuable. In our relations with
others, it appears according to the requirements of each case:—in the
service of parents, as gentle, filial duty; in the service of rulers, as
loyalty and integrity; in festive drinking, as pleasant enjoyment; in the
performance of the mourning rites, as sadness and sorrow. In loyalty and
integrity, good service is the principal thing; in festive drinking, the
enjoyment; in the mourning rites, the sorrow; in the service of parents, the
giving them pleasure. The beauty of the service rendered (to a ruler) does
not require that it always be performed in one way; the service of parents
so as to give them pleasure takes no account of how it is done; the festive
drinking which ministers enjoyment does not depend on the appliances for it;
the observance of the mourning rites with the proper sorrow asks no
questions about the rites themselves. Rites are prescribed for the practice
of the common people; man's proper Truth is what he has received from
Heaven, operating spontaneously, and unchangeable. Therefore the sages take
their law from Heaven, and prize their (proper) Truth, without submitting to
the restrictions of custom. The stupid do the reverse of this. They are
unable to take their law from Heaven, and are influenced by other men; they
don't know how to prize the proper Truth (of their nature), but are under
the dominion of ordinary things, and change according to the customs (around
them):always, consequently, incomplete. Alas for you, Sir, that you were
early steeped in the hypocrisies of men, and have been so late in hearing
about the Great Way!'
(Once more), Confucius bowed twice (to the
fisherman), then rose again, and said,
'That I have met you today is as if I had
the happiness of getting to heaven. If you, Master, are not ashamed, but
will let me be as your servant, and continue to teach me, let me venture to
ask where your dwelling is. I will then beg to receive your instructions
there, and finish my learning of the Great Way.'
The stranger replied,
'I have heard the saying, "If it be one
with whom you can walk together, go with him to the subtlest mysteries of
the Tao. If it be one with whom you cannot walk together and he don't know
the Tao, take care that you do not associate with him, and you will yourself
incur no responsibility." Do your utmost, Sir. I must leave you, I must
leave you!'
With this he shoved off his boat, and went
away among the green reeds.
Yen Yüan (now) returned to the carriage,
where Tzu-la handed to him the strap; but Confucius did not look round,
(continuing where he was), till the wavelets, were stilled, and he did not
hear the sound of the pole, when at last he ventured to (return and) take
his seat. Tzu-lu, by his side in the carriage, asked him, saying,
'I have been your servant for a long time,
but I have never seen you, Master, treat another with the awe and reverence
which you have now shown. I have seen you in the presence of a Lord of ten
thousand chariots or a Ruler of a thousand, and they have never received you
in a different audience-room, or treated you but with the courtesies due to
an equal, while you have still carried yourself with a reserved and haughty
air; but today this old fisherman has stood erect in front of you with his
pole in his hand, while you, bent from your loins in the form of a
sounding-stone, would bow twice before you answered him; —was not your
reverence of him excessive? Your disciples will all think it strange in you,
Master. Why did the old fisherman receive such homage from you?'
Confucius leant forward on the cross-bar of
the carriage, heaved a sigh, and said,
'Difficult indeed is it to change you, O
Yu! You have been trained in propriety and righteousness for long, and yet
your servile and mean heart has not been taken from you. Come nearer, that I
may speak fully to you. If you meet one older than yourself, and do not show
him respect, you fail in propriety. If you see a man of superior wisdom and
goodness, and do not honour him, you want the great characteristic of
humanity. If that (fisherman) did not possess it in the highest degree, how
could he make others submit to him? And if their submission to him be not
sincere, they do not attain to the truth (of their nature), and inflict a
lasting injury on their persons. Alas! there is no greater calamity to man
than the want of this characteristic; and you, O Yu, you alone, would take
such want on yourself.
'Moreover, the Tao is the course by Which
all things should proceed. For things to fail in this is death; to observe
it, is life. To oppose it in practice is ruin; to conform it, is success.
Therefore wherever the sagely man finds the Tao, he honours it. And that old
fisherman today might be said to possess it; —dared I presume not to show
him reverence?'
1:
Lieh Yü-khâu had started to go to Khi, but came back when he was half-way
to it. He met Po-hwän Wu-zän, who said,
'Why have you come back?'
His reply was,
'I was frightened.'
'What frightened you?'
'I went into ten soup-shops to get a meal,
and in five of them the soup was set before me before (I had paid for it).'
'But what was there in that to frighten
you?'
(Master Lieh) said,
'Though the inward and true purpose be not
set forth, the body like a spy gives some bright display of it. And this
outward demonstration overawes men's minds, and makes men on light grounds
treat one as noble or as aged, from which evil to him will be produced. Now
vendors of soup supply their commodity simply as a matter of business, and
however much they may dispose of, their profit is but little, and their
power is but slight; and yet they treated me as I have said:—how much more
would the lord of ten thousand chariots do so! His body burdened with (the
cares of his) kingdom, and his knowledge overtasked by its affairs, he would
entrust those affairs to me, and exact from me the successful conduct (of
its government). It was this which frightened me.'
Po-hwän Wu-zän replied,
'Admirable perspicacity! But if you carry
yourself as you do, men will flock to you for protection.'
Not long after, Po-hwän Wu-zän went (to
visit Master Lieh), and found the space outside his door full of shoes.
There he stood with his face to the north, holding his staff upright, and
leaning his chin on it till the skin was wrinkled. After standing so for
some time, and without saying a word, he was going away, when the
door-keeper went in, and told Master Lieh. The latter (at once) took up his
shoes, and ran barefoot after the visitor. When he overtook him at the
(outer) gate, he said,
'Since you, Sir, have come, are you going
away without giving me some medicine?'
The other replied,
'It is of no use. I did tell you that men
would flock to you, and they do indeed do so. It is not that you can cause
men to flock to you, but you cannot keep them from not so coming; —of what
use is (all my warning)? What influences them and makes them glad is the
display of your extraordinary (qualities); but you must also be influenced
in your turn, and your proper nature be shaken, and no warning can be
addressed to you. Those who associate with you do not admonish you of this.
The small words which they speak are poison to a man. You perceive it not;
you understand it not; —how can you separate yourself from them?
'The clever toil on, and the wise are sad.
Those who are without ability seek for nothing. They eat to the full, and
wander idly about. They drift like a vessel loosed from its moorings, and
aimlessly wander about.'
2:
A man of Käng, called Hwan, learned his books in the neighbourhood of
Khiu-shih, and in no longer time than three years became a Confucian
scholar, benefiting the three classes of his kindred as the Ho extends its
enriching influence for nine li. He made his younger brother study (the
principles of) Mo, and then they two—the scholar and the Mohist—disputed
together (about their respective systems), and the father took the side of
the younger. After ten years Hwan killed himself. (By and by) he appeared to
his father in a dream, saying,
'It was I who made your son become a Mohist;
why did you not recognise that good service? I am become (but) the fruit of
a cypress in autumn.'
But the Creator, in apportioning the awards
of men, does not recompense them for their own doings, but recompenses them
for the (use of the) Heavenly in them. It was thus that Hwan's brother was
led to learn Mohism. When this Hwan thought that it was he who had made his
brother different from what he would have been, and proceeded to despise his
father, he was like the people of Khi, who, while they drank from a well,
tried to keep one another from it. Hence it is said,
'Now-a-days all men are Hwans.'
From this we perceive that those who
possess the characteristics (of the Tao) consider that they don't know them;
how much more is it so with those who possess the Tao itself! The ancients
called such (as Hwan) 'men who had escaped the punishment of Heaven.'
3:
The sagely man rests in what is his proper rest; he does not rest in what
is not so; —the multitude of men rest in what is not their proper rest; they
do not rest in their proper rest.
4:
Master Chuang said, To know the Tao is easy; not to say (that you know
it) is difficult. To know it and not to speak of it is the way to attain to
the Heavenly; to know and to speak of it, is the way to show the Human. The
ancients pursued the Heavenly (belonging to them), and not the Human.'
5:
Ku Peng-man learned how to slaughter the dragon from Kih-li Yi, expending
(in doing so) all his wealth of a thousand ounces of silver. In three years
he became perfect in the art, but he never exercised his skill.
'Slaughtering the dragon' means 'learning the Tao' (etc.). - J.
Legge.
6:
The sage looks on what is deemed necessary as unnecessary, and therefore
is not at war (in himself). The mass of men deem what is unnecessary to be
necessary, and therefore they are often at war (in themselves). Therefore
those who pursue this method of (internal) war, resort to it in whatever
they seek for. But reliance on such war leads to ruin.
7:
The wisdom of the small man does not go beyond (the minutiae of) making
presents and writing memoranda, wearying his spirits out in what is trivial
and mean. But at the same time he wishes to aid in guiding to (the secret
of) the Tao and of (all) things in the incorporeity of the Grand Unity. In
this way he goes all astray in regard to (the mysteries of) space and time.
The fetters of embodied matter keep him from the knowledge of the Grand
Beginning. (On the other hand), the perfect man directs the energy of his
spirit to what was before the Beginning, and finds pleasure in the
mysteriousness belonging to the region of nothingness. He is like the water
which flows on without the obstruction of matter, and expands into the Grand
Purity.
Alas for what you do, (O men)! You occupy
yourselves with things trivial as a hair, and remain ignorant of the Grand
Rest!
8:
There was a man of Sung, called Zhâo Shang, who was sent by the king of
Sung on a mission to Khin. On setting out, he had several carriages with
him; and the king (of Khin) was so pleased with him that he gave him another
hundred. When he returned to Sung, he saw Master Chuang, and said to him,
'To live in a narrow lane of a poor mean
hamlet, wearing sandals amid distress of poverty, with a weazen neck and
yellow face; —that is what I should find it difficult to do. But as soon as
I come to an understanding with the Lord of a myriad carriages, to find
myself with a retinue of a hundred carriages,—that is wherein I excel.'
Master Chuang replied,
'When the king of Khän is ill, the doctor
whom he calls to open an ulcer or squeeze a boil receives a carriage; and he
who licks his piles receives five. The lower the service, the more are the
carriages given. Did you, Sir, lick his piles? How else should you have got
so many carriages? Begone!'
9:
Duke Âi of Lu asked Yen Ho, saying,
'If I employ Kung-ni as the support of my
government, will the evils of the state be thereby cured?'
The reply was,
'(Such a measure) would be perilous! It
would be full of hazard! Kung-ni, moreover, will try to ornament a feather
and paint it; in the conduct of affairs he uses flowery speeches. A (mere)
branch is to him more admirable (than the root); he can bear to misrepresent
their nature in instructing the people, and is not conscious of the
unreality of his words. He receives (his inspiration) from his own mind, and
rules his course from his own spirit:—what fitness has he to be set over the
people? Is such a man suitable for you (as your minister)? Could you give to
him the nourishment (of the people)? You would do so by mistake (but not on
purpose, for a time, but not as a permanency). To make the people leave what
is real, and learn what is hypocritical—that is not the proper thing to be
shown to them; if you take thought for future ages, your better plan will be
to give up (the idea of employing Confucius). What makes government
difficult, is the dealing with men without forgetting yourself; this is not
according to the example of Heaven in diffusing its benefits. Merchants and
traffickers are not to be ranked (with administrative officers); if on an
occasion you so rank them, the spirits (of the people) do not acquiesce in
your doing so. The instruments of external punishment are made of metal and
wood; those of internal punishment are agitation (of the mind) and (the
sense of) transgression. When small men become subject to the external
punishment, the (instruments of) metal and wood deal with them; when they
become liable to the internal punishments, the Yin and Yang consume them. It
is only the true man who can escape both from the external and internal
punishment.'
10:
Confucius said,
'The minds of men are more difficult of
approach than (the position defended by) mountains and rivers, and more
difficult to know than Heaven itself. Heaven has its periods of spring and
autumn, of winter and summer, and of morning and evening; but man's exterior
is thickly veiled, and his feelings lie deep. Thus the demeanour of some is
honest-like, and yet they go to excess (in what is mean); others are really
gifted, and yet look to be without ability; some seem docile and
impressible, but yet they have far-reaching schemes; others look firm, and
yet may be twisted about; others look slow, and yet they are hasty. In this
way those who hasten to do what is right as if they were thirsty will anon
hurry away from it as if it were fire. Hence the superior man looks at them
when employed at a distance to test their fidelity, and when employed near
at hand to test their reverence. By employing them on difficult services, he
tests their ability; by questioning them suddenly, he tests their knowledge;
by appointing them a fixed time, he tests their good faith; by entrusting
them with wealth, he tests their benevolence; by telling them of danger, he
tests their self-command in emergencies; by making them drunk, he tests
their tendencies; by placing them in a variety of society, he tests their
chastity:—by these nine tests the inferior man is discovered.'
11:
When Khâo-fu, the Correct, received the first grade of official rank, he
walked with head bowed down; on receiving the second, with bent back; on
receiving the third, with body stooping, he ran and hurried along the
wall:—who would presume not to take him as a model? But one of those
ordinary men, on receiving his first appointment, goes along with a haughty
stride; on receiving his second, he looks quite elated in his chariot; and
on receiving the third, he calls his uncles by their personal names; —how
very different from Hsü (Yu) in the time (of Yao of) Tang!
Of all things that injure (men) there is
none greater than the practising of virtue with the purpose of the mind,
till the mind becomes supercilious. When it becomes so, the mind (only)
looks inwards (on itself), and such looking into itself leads to its ruin.
This evil quality has five forms, and the chief of them is that which is the
central. What do we mean by the central quality? It is that which appears in
a man's loving (only) his own views, and reviling whatever he does not do
(himself).
Limiting (men's advance), there are eight
extreme conditions; securing (that advance), there are three things
necessary; and the person has its six repositories. Elegance; a (fine)
beard; tallness; size; strength; beauty; bravery; daring; and in all these
excelling others:—(these are the eight extreme conditions) by which advance
is limited. Depending on and copying others; stooping in order to rise; and
being straitened by the fear of not equalling others:—these are the three
things that lead to advancing. Knowledge seeking to reach to all that is
external; bold movement producing many resentments; benevolence and
righteousness leading to many requisitions; understanding the phenomena of
life in an extraordinary degree; understanding all knowledge so as to
possess an approach to it; understanding the great condition appointed for
him, and following it, and the smaller conditions, and meeting them as they
occur:—(these are the six repositories of the person).
12:
There was a man who, having had an interview with the king of Sung, and
been presented by him with ten carriages, showed them boastfully to Master
Chuang, as if the latter had been a boy. Master Chuang said to him,
'Near the Ho there was a poor man who
supported his family by weaving rushes (to form screens). His son, when
diving in a deep pool, found a pearl worth a thousand ounces of silver. The
father said, "Bring a stone, and break it in pieces. A pearl of this value
must have been in a pool nine khung deep, and under the chin of the Black
Dragon. That you were able to get it must have been owing to your finding
him asleep. Let him awake, and the consequences to you won't be small!" Now
the kingdom of Sung is deeper than any pool of nine khung, and its king is
fiercer than the Black Dragon. That you were able to get the chariots must
have been owing to your finding him asleep. Let him awake, and you will be
ground to powder.'
13:
Some (ruler) having sent a message of invitation to him, Kwang-sze
replied to the messenger,
'Have you seen, Sir, a sacrificial ox? It
is robed with ornamental embroidery, and feasted on fresh grass and beans.
But when it is led into the grand ancestral temple, though it wished to be
(again) a solitary calf, would that be possible for it?
14:
When Master Chuang was about to die, his disciples signified their wish
to give him a grand burial.
'I shall have heaven and earth,' said he,
'for my coffin and its shell; the sun and moon for my two round symbols of
jade; the stars and constellations for my pearls and jewels; and all things
assisting as the mourners. Won't the provisions for my burial be complete?
What could you add to them?'
The disciples replied,
'We are afraid that the crows and kites
will eat our master.'
Master Chuang rejoined,
'Above, the crows and kites will eat me;
below, the mole-crickets and ants will eat me:—to take from those and give
to these would only show your partiality.'
The attempt, with what is not even, to
produce what is even will only produce an uneven result; the attempt, with
what is uncertain, to make the uncertain certain will leave the uncertainty
as it was. He who uses only the sight of his eyes is acted on by what he
sees; it is the (intuition of the) spirit, that gives the assurance of
certainty. That the sight of the eyes is not equal to that intuition of the
spirit is a thing long acknowledged. And yet stupid people rely on what they
see, and will have it to be the sentiment of all men; —all their success
being with what is external:—is it not sad?
1:
The methods employed in the regulation of the world are many; and (the
employers of them) think each that the efficiency of his own method leaves
nothing to be added to it.
But where is what was called of old 'the
method of the Tao?'
We must reply,
'It is everywhere.'
But then whence does the spiritual in it
come down? and whence does the intelligence in it come forth? There is that
which gives birth to the Sage, and that which gives his perfection to the
King:—the origin of both is the One.
Not to be separate from his primal source
constitutes what we call the Heavenly man; not to be separate from the
essential nature thereof constitutes what we call the Spirit-like man; not
to be separate from its real truth constitutes what we call the Perfect man.
To regard Heaven as his primal Source, Its
Attributes as the Root (of his nature), and the Tao as the Gate (by which he
enters into this inheritance), (knowing also) the prognostics given in
change and transformation, constitutes what we call the Sagely man.
To regard benevolence as (the source of
all) kindness, righteousness as (the source of all) distinctions, propriety
as (the rule of) all conduct, and music as (the idea of) all harmony, thus
diffusing a fragrance of gentleness and goodness, constitutes what we call
the Superior man.
To regard laws as assigning the different
(social) conditions, their names as the outward expression (of the social
duties), the comparison of subjects as supplying the grounds of evidence,
investigation as conducting to certainty, so that things can be numbered as
first, second, third, fourth (and so on):—(this is the basis of government).
Its hundred offices are thus arranged; business has its regular course; the
great matters of clothes and food are provided for; cattle are fattened and
looked after; the (government) stores are filled; the old and weak, orphans
and solitaries, receive anxious consideration:—in all these ways is
provision made for the nourishment of the people.
How complete was (the operation of the Tao)
in the men of old! It made them the equals of spiritual beings, and subtle
and all-embracing as heaven and earth. They nourished all things, and
produced harmony all under heaven. Their beneficent influence reached to all
classes of the people. They understood all fundamental principles, and
followed them out to their graduated issues; in all the six directions went
their penetration, and in the four quarters all things were open to them.
Great and small, fine and coarse; —all felt their presence and operation.
Their intelligence, as seen in all their regulations, was handed down from
age to age in their old laws, and much of it was still to be found in the
Historians. What of it was in the Shih, the Shu, the Li, and the Yo, might
be learned from the scholars of Zâu and Lu', and the girdled members of the
various courts. The Shih describes what should be the aim of the mind; the
Shu, the course of events; the Li is intended to direct the conduct; the Yo,
to set forth harmony; the Yi, to show the action of the Yin and Yang; and
the Khun Khiu, to display names and the duties belonging to them.
Some of the regulations (of these men of
old), scattered all under heaven, and established in our Middle states, are
(also) occasionally mentioned and described in the writings of the different
schools.
There ensued great disorder in the world,
and sages and worthies no longer shed their light on it. The Tao and its
characteristics ceased to be regarded as uniform. Many in different places
got one glimpse of it, and plumed themselves on possessing it as a whole.
They might be compared to the ear, the eye, the nose, or the mouth. Each
sense has its own faculty, but their different faculties cannot be
interchanged. So it was with the many branches of the various schools. Each
had its peculiar excellence, and there was the time for the use of it; but
notwithstanding no one covered or extended over the whole (range of truth).
The case was that of the scholar of a corner who passes his judgement on all
the beautiful in heaven and earth, discriminates the principles that
underlie all things, and attempts to estimate the success arrived at by the
ancients. Seldom is it that such an one can embrace all the beautiful in
heaven and earth, or rightly estimate the ways of the spiritual and
intelligent; and thus it was that the Tao, which inwardly forms the sage and
externally the king, became obscured and lost its clearness, became
repressed and lost its development. Every one in the world did whatever he
wished, and was the rule to himself. Alas! the various schools held on their
several ways, and could not come back to the same point, nor agree together.
The students of that later age unfortunately did not see the undivided
purity of heaven and earth, and the great scheme of truth held by the
ancients. The system of the Tao was about to be torn in fragments all under
the sky.
2:
To leave no example of extravagance to future generations; to show no
wastefulness in the use of anything; to make no display in the degree of
their (ceremonial) observances; to keep themselves (in their expenditure)
under the restraint of strict and exact rule, so as to be prepared for
occurring emergencies; —such regulations formed part of the system of the
Tao in antiquity, and were appreciated by Mo Ti, and (his disciple) Khin
Hwa-li. When they heard of such ways, they were delighted with them; but
they enjoined them in excess, and followed them themselves too strictly.
(Mo) made the treatise 'Against Music,' and enjoined the subject of another,
called 'Economy in Expenditure,' on his followers. He would have no singing
in life, and no wearing of mourning on occasions of death. He inculcated
Universal Love, and a Common Participation in all advantages, and condemned
Fighting. His doctrine did not admit of Anger. He was fond also of Learning,
and with it all strove not to appear different from others. Yet he did not
agree with the former kings, but attacked the ceremonies and music of the
ancients.
Hwang-Ti had his Hsien-khih; Yao, his
TâKang; Shun, his TâShâo; Yü, his TâHsiâ; Tang, his TâHu; king Wän, his
music of the Phi-yung; and king Wu and the duke of Kâu made the Wu.
In the mourning rites of the ancients, the
noble and mean had their several observances, the high and low their
different degrees. The coffin of the Son of Heaven was sevenfold; of a
feudal lord, fivefold; of a great officer, threefold; of other officers,
twofold. But now Master Mo alone, would have no singing during life, and no
wearing of mourning after death. As the rule for all, he would have a coffin
of elaeococca wood, three inches thick, and without any enclosing shell. The
teaching of such lessons cannot be regarded as affording a proof of his love
for men; his practising them in his own case would certainly show that he
did not love himself; but this has not been sufficient to overthrow the
views of Master Mo. Notwithstanding, men will sing, and he condemns singing;
men will wail, and he condemns wailing; men will express their joy, and he
condemns such expression:—is this truly in accordance with man's nature?
Through life toil, and at death niggardliness:—his way is one of great
unkindliness. Causing men sorrow and melancholy, and difficult to be carried
into practice, I fear it cannot be regarded as the way of a sage. Contrary
to the minds of men everywhere, men won't endure it. Though Master Mo
himself might be able to endure it, how can the aversion of the world to it
be overcome? The world averse to it, it must be far from the way of the
(ancient) kings.
Master Mo, in praise of his views, said,
'Anciently, when Yü was draining off the
waters of the flood, he set free the channels of the Kiang and the Ho, and
opened communications with them from the regions of the four Î and the nine
provinces. The famous hills with which he dealt were 300, the branch streams
were 3000, and the smaller ones innumerable. With his own hands he carried
the sack and wielded the spade, till he had united all the streams of the
country (conducting them to the sea). There was no hair left on his legs
from the knee to the ankle. He bathed his hair in the violent wind, and
combed it in the pelting rain, thus marking out the myriad states. Yü was a
great sage, and thus he toiled in the service of the world.'
The effect of this is that in this later
time most of the Mohists wear skins and dolychos cloth, with shoes of wood
or twisted hemp, not stopping day or night, but considering such toiling on
their part as their highest achievement. They say that he who cannot do this
is acting contrary to the way of Yü, and not fit to be a Mohist.
The disciples of Khin of Hsiang-li, the
followers of the various feudal lords; and Mohists of the south, such as Ku
Hu, Ki Khih, and Täng Master Ling, all repeated the texts of Mo, but they
differed in the objections which they offered to them, and in their
deceitful glosses they called one another Mohists of different schools. They
had their disputations, turning on 'what was hard,' and 'what was white,'
what constituted 'sameness' and what 'difference,' and their expressions
about the difference between 'the odd' and the even,' with which they
answered one another. They regarded their most distinguished member as a
sage, and wished to make him their chief, hoping that he would be handed
down as such to future ages. To the present day these controversies are not
determined.
The idea of Mo Ti and Khin Hwa-li was good,
but their practice was wrong. They would have made the Mohists of future
ages feel it necessary to toil themselves, till there was not a hair on
their legs, and still be urging one another on; (thus producing a condition)
superior indeed to disorder, but inferior to the result of good government.
Nevertheless, Master Mo was indeed one of the best men in the world, which
you may search without finding his equal. Decayed and worn (his person)
might be, but he is not to be rejected,—a scholar of ability indeed!
3:
To keep from being entangled by prevailing customs; to shun all
ornamental attractions in one's self; not to be reckless in his conduct to
others; not to set himself stubbornly against a multitude; to desire the
peace and repose of the world in order to preserve the lives of the people;
and to cease his action when enough had been obtained for the nourishment of
others and himself, showing that this was the aim of his mind; —such a
scheme belonged to the system of the Tao in antiquity, and it was
appreciated by Sung Hsing and Yin Wän. When they heard of such ways, they
were delighted with them. They made the Hwa-shan cap, and wore it as their
distinguishing badge. In their intercourse with others, whatever their
differences might be, they began by being indulgent to them. Their name for
'the Forbearance of the Mind' was 'the Action of the Mind.'
By the warmth of affection they sought the
harmony of joy, and to blend together all within the four seas; and their
wish was to plant this everywhere as the chief thing to be pursued. They
endured insult without feeling it a disgrace; they sought to save the people
from fighting; they forbade aggression and sought to hush the weapons of
strife, to save their age from war. In this way they went everywhere,
counselling the high and instructing the low. Though the world might not
receive them, they only insisted on their object the more strongly, and
would not abandon it. Hence it is said,
'The high and the low might be weary of
them, but they were strong to show themselves.'
Notwithstanding all this, they acted too
much out of regard to others, and too little for themselves. It was as if
they said,
'What we request and wish is simply that
there may be set down for us five pints of rice; —that will be enough.'
But I fear the Master would not get his
fill from this; and the disciples, though famishing, would still have to be
mindful of the world, and, never stopping day or night, have to say,
'Is it necessary I should preserve my life?
Shall I scheme how to exalt myself above the master, the saviour of the
age?'
It was moreover as if they said,
'The superior man does not censoriously
scrutinize (the faults of others); he does not borrow from others to
supersede his own endeavours; when any think that he is of no use to the
world, he knows that their intelligence is inferior to his own; he considers
the prohibition of aggression and causing the disuse of arms to be an
external achievement, and the making his own desires to be few and slight to
be the internal triumph.'
Such was their discrimination between the
great and the small, the subtle and the coarse; and with the attainment of
this they stopped.
4:
Public-spirited, and with nothing of the partizan; easy and compliant,
without any selfish partialities; capable of being led, without any positive
tendencies; following in the wake of others, without any double mind; not
looking round because of anxious thoughts; not scheming in the exercise of
their wisdom; not choosing between parties, but going along with all; —all
such courses belonged to the Taoists of antiquity, and they were appreciated
by Phäng Mäng, Thien Phien, and Shän Tao. When they heard of such ways, they
were delighted with them. They considered that the first thing for them to
do was to adjust the controversies about different things. They said,
'Heaven can cover, but it cannot sustain;
Earth can contain, but it cannot cover. The Great Tao embraces all things,
but It does not discriminate between them.'
They knew that all things have what they
can do and what they cannot do. Hence it is said,
'If you select, you do not reach all; if
you teach some things, you must omit the others; but the Tao neglects none.'
Therefore Shän Tao discarded his knowledge
and also all thought of himself, acting only where he had no alternative,
and pursued it as his course to be indifferent and pure in his dealings with
others. He said that the best knowledge was to have no knowledge, and that
if we had a little knowledge it was likely to prove a dangerous thing.
Conscious of his unfitness, he undertook no charge, and laughed at those who
valued ability and virtue. Remiss and evasive, he did nothing, and
disallowed the greatest sages which the world had known. Now with a hammer,
now with his hand, smoothing all corners, and breaking all bonds, he
accommodated himself to all conditions. He disregarded right and wrong, his
only concern being to avoid trouble; he learned nothing from the wise and
thoughtful, and took no note of the succession of events, thinking only of
carrying himself with a lofty disregard of everything. He went where he was
pushed, and followed where he was led, like a whirling wind, like a feather
tossed about, like the revolutions of a grindstone.
What was the reason that he appeared thus
complete, doing nothing wrong? that, whether in motion or at rest, he
committed no error, and could be charged with no transgression? Creatures
that have no knowledge are free from the troubles that arise from
self-assertion and the entanglements that spring from the use of knowledge.
Moving and at rest) they do not depart from their proper course, and all
their life long they do not receive any praise. Hence (Shän Tao) said,
'Let me come to be like a creature without
knowledge. Of what use are the (teachings of the) sages and worthies?'
But a clod of earth never fails in the
course (proper for it), and men of spirit and eminence laughed together at
him, and said,
'The way of Shän Tao does not describe the
conduct of living men; that it should be predicable only of the dead is
strange indeed!'
It was just the same with Thien Phien. He
learned under Phäng Mäng, but it was as if he were not taught at all. The
master of Phäng Mäng said,
'The Taoist professors of old came no
farther than to say that nothing was absolutely right and nothing absolutely
wrong.'
His spirit was like the breath of an
opposing wind; how can it be described in words? But he was always contrary
to (the views of) other men, which he would not bring together to view, and
he did not escape shaving the corners and bonds (of which I have spoken).
What he called the Tao was not the true Tao, and what he called the right
was really the wrong
Phäng Mäng, Thien Phien, and Shin Tao did
not in fact know the Tao; but nevertheless they had heard in a general way
about it.
5:
To take the root (from which things spring) as the essential (part), and
the things as its coarse (embodiment); to see deficiency in accumulation;
and in the solitude of one's individuality to dwell with the spirit-like and
intelligent; —such a course belonged to the Tao of antiquity, and it was
appreciated by Kwan Yin and Lao Tan. When they heard of such ways, they were
delighted with them. They built their system on the assumption of an eternal
non-existence, and made the ruling idea in it that of the Grand Unity. They
made weakness and humility their mark of distinction, and considered that by
empty vacuity no injury could be sustained, but all things be preserved in
their substantiality.
Kwan Yin says,
'To him who does not dwell in himself the
forms of things show themselves as they are. His movement is like that of
water; his stillness is like that of a mirror; his response is like that of
the echo. His tenuity makes him seem to be disappearing altogether; he is
still as a clear (lake), harmonious in his association with others, and he
counts gain as loss. He does not take precedence of others, but follows
them.'
Lao Tan says,
'He knows his masculine power, but
maintains his female weakness,—becoming the channel into which all streams
flow. He knows his white purity, but keeps his disgrace,—becoming the valley
of the world. Men all prefer to be first; he alone chooses to be last,
saying, "I will receive the offscourings of the world." Men all choose
fulness; he alone chooses emptiness. He does not store, and therefore he has
a superabundance; he looks solitary, but has a multitude around him. In his
conducting of himself he is easy and leisurely and wastes nothing. He does
nothing, and laughs at the clever and ingenious. Men all seek for happiness,
but he feels complete in his imperfect condition, and says, "Let me only
escape blame." He regards what is deepest as his root, and what is most
restrictive as his rule; and says, "The strong is broken; the sharp and
pointed is blunted." He is always generous and forbearing with others, and
does not encroach on any man; —this may be pronounced the height (of
perfection).'
O Kwan Yin, and Lao Tan, ye were among the
greatest men of antiquity; True men indeed!
6:
That the shadowy and still is without bodily form; that change and
transformation are ever proceeding, but incapable of being determined. What
is death? What is life? What is meant by the union of Heaven and Earth? Does
the spiritual intelligence go away? Shadowy, where does it go? Subtle, where
does it proceed? All things being arranged as they are, there is no one
place which can be fitly ascribed to it. Such were the questions belonging
to the scheme of Tao in antiquity, and they were appreciated by Kwang Kâu.
When he heard of such subjects, he was delighted with them. (He discussed
them), using strange and mystical expressions, wild and extravagant words,
and phrases to which no definite meaning could be assigned. He constantly
indulged his own wayward ideas, but did not make himself a partisan, nor
look at them as peculiar to himself. Considering that men were sunk in
stupidity and could not be talked to in dignified style, he employed the
words of the cup of endless application, with important quotations to
substantiate the truth, and an abundance of corroborative illustrations. He
chiefly cared to occupy himself with the spirit-like operation of heaven and
earth, and did not try to rise above the myriads of things. He did not
condemn the agreements and differences of others, so that he might live in
peace with the prevalent views. Though his writings may seem to be sparkling
trifles, there is no harm in amusing one's self with them; though his
phraseology be ever-varying, its turns and changes are worth being looked
at; —the fulness and completeness of his ideas cannot be exhausted. Above he
seeks delight in the Maker; below, he has a friendly regard to those who
consider life and death as having neither beginning nor end. As regards his
dealing with the Root (origin of all things), he is comprehensive and great,
opening up new views, deep, vast, and free. As regards the Author and Master
(the Great Tao Itself), he may be pronounced exact and correct, carrying our
thoughts to range and play on high. Nevertheless on the subject of
transformation, and the emancipation of that from (the thraldom of) things,
his principles are inexhaustible, and are not derived from his predecessors.
They are subtle and obscure, and cannot be fully explained.
7:
Hui Shih had many ingenious notions. His writings would fill five
carriages; but his doctrines were erroneous and contradictory, and his words
were wide of their mark. Taking up one thing after another, he would
say:—'That which is so great that there is nothing outside it may be called
the Great One; and that which is so small that there is nothing inside it
may be called the Small One.'
'What has no thickness and won't admit of
being repeated is 1000 li in size.'
'Heaven may be as low as the earth.'
'A mountain may be as level as a marsh.'
'The sun in the meridian may be the sun
declining.'
'A creature may be born to life and may die
at the same time.'
'(When it is said that) things greatly
alike are different from things a little alike, this is what is called
making little of agreements and differences; (when it is said that) all
things are entirely alike or entirely different, this is what is called
making much of agreements and differences.'
'The south is unlimited and yet has a
limit.'
'I proceed to Yueh today and came to it
yesterday.'
'Things which are joined together can be
separated.'
'I know the centre of the world; —it is
north of Yen or south of Yueh.'
'If all things be regarded with love,
heaven and earth are of one body (with me).'
Hui Shih by such sayings as these made
himself very conspicuous throughout the kingdom, and was considered an able
debater. All other debaters vied with one another and delighted in similar
exhibitions. (They would say),
'There are feathers in an egg.'
'A fowl has three feet.'
'The kingdom belongs to Ying.'
'A dog might have been (called) a sheep.'
'A tadpole has a tail.'
'Fire is not hot.'
'A mountain gives forth a voice.'
'A wheel does not tread on the ground.'
'The eye does not see.'
'The finger indicates, but needs not touch,
(the object).'
'Where you come to may not be the end.'
'The tortoise is longer than the snake.'
'The carpenter's square is not square.'
'A compass should not itself be round.'
'A chisel does not surround its handle.'
'The shadow of a flying bird does not
(itself) move.'
'Swift as the arrowhead is, there is a time
when it is neither flying nor at rest.'
'A dog is not a hound.'
'A bay horse and a black ox are three.'
'A white dog is black.'
'A motherless colt never had a mother.'
'If from a stick a foot long you every day
take the half of it, in a myriad ages it won't be exhausted.'—It was in this
way that the debaters responded to Hui Shih, all their lifetime, without
coming to an end.
Hwan Twan and Kung-sun Lung were true
members of this class. By their specious representations they threw a
glamour over men's minds and altered their ideas. They vanquished men in
argument, but could not subdue their minds, only keeping them in the
enclosure of their sophistry. Hui Shih daily used his own knowledge and the
arguments of others to propose strange theses to all debaters such was his
practice. At the same time he would talk freely of himself, thinking himself
the ablest among them, and saying,
'In heaven or earth who is my match?'
Shih maintained indeed his masculine
energy, but he had not the art (of controversy). In the south there was a
man of extraordinary views, named Hwang Liâo, who asked him how it was that
the sky did not fall nor the earth sink, and what was the cause of wind,
rain, and the thunder's roll and crash. Shih made no attempt to evade the
questions, and answered him without any exercise of thought, talking about
all things, without pause, on and on without end; yet still thinking that
his words were few, and adding to them the strangest observations. He
thought that to contradict others was a real triumph, and wished to make
himself famous by overcoming them; and on this account he was not liked by
the multitude of debaters. He was weak in real attainment, though he might
seem strong in comparison with others, and his way was narrow and dark. If
we look at Hui Shih's ability from the standpoint of Heaven and Earth, it
was only like the restless activity of a mosquito or gadfly; of what service
was it to anything? To give its full development to any one capacity is a
good thing, and he who does so is in the way to a higher estimation of the
Tao; but Hui Shih could find no rest for himself in doing this. He diffused
himself over the world of things without satiety, till in the end he had
only the reputation of being a skilful debater. Alas! Hui Shih, with all his
talents, vast as they were, made nothing out; he pursued all subjects and
never came back (with success). It was like silencing an echo by his
shouting, or running a race with his shadow. Alas!
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