Zhuangzi

TRANSCENDENTAL BLISS. Argument: - Space infinite - Time infinite - Relativity of magnitudes, physical and moral - The magnitude absolute - Usefulness as a test of value - The usefulness of the useless. In the northern ocean there is a fish, called the Leviathan, many thousand li in size. This leviathan changes into a bird, called the Rukh, whose back is many thousand li in breadth. With a mighty effort it rises, and its wings obscure the sky like clouds. At the equinox, this bird prepares to start for the southern ocean, the Celestial Lake. And in the Record of Marvels we read that when the rukh flies southwards, the water is smitten for a space of three thousand li around, while the bird itself mounts upon a typhoon to a height of ninety thousand li, for a flight of six months' duration. Just so are the motes in a sunbeam blown aloft by God. For whether the blue of the sky is its real colour, or only the result of distance without end, the effect to the bird looking down would be just the same as to the motes. Distance being relative. The rukh at an altitude of 90,000 li (three li to a mile) is no more than a mote in a sunbeam a few feet from the ground.

If there is not sufficient depth, water will not float large ships. Upset a cupful into a small hole, and a mustard-seed will be your boat. Try to float the cup, and it will stick, from the disproportion between water and vessel. So with air. If there is not a sufficient depth, it cannot support large birds. And for this bird a depth of ninety thousand li is necessary; and then, with nothing save the clear sky above, and no obstacle in the way, it starts upon its journey to the south. A cicada laughed, and said to a young dove, "Now, when I fly with all my might, 'tis as much as I can do to get from tree to tree. And sometimes I do not reach, but fall to the ground midway. What then can be the use of going up ninety thousand li in order to start for the south?" He who goes to Mang-ts'ang, A short distance into the country.

taking three meals with him, comes back with his stomach as full as when he started. But he who travels a hundred li must grind flour enough for a night's halt. And he who travels a thousand li must supply himself with provisions for three months. Those two little creatures, - what should they know? Small knowledge has not the compass of great knowledge any more than a short year has the length of a long year. How can we tell that this is so? The mushroom of a morning knows not the alternation of day and night. The chrysalis knows not the alternation of spring and autumn. Theirs are short years. But in the State of Ch'u there is a tortoise whose spring and autumn are each of five hundred years' duration. And in former days there was a large tree which had a spring and autumn each of eight thousand years' duration. Yet, P'êng Tsu The Methusaleh of China. His age has not been agreed upon by Chinese writers, but the lowest computation gives him a life of eight hundred years. is still, alas! an object of envy to all. It was on this very subject that the Emperor T'ang B.C. 1766.

spoke to Chi, as follows: - "At the barren north there is a great sea, the Celestial Lake. In it there is a fish, several thousand li in breadth, and I know not how many in length. It is called the Leviathan. There is also a bird, called the Rukh, with a back like Mount T'ai, China's most famous mountain, situated in the province of Shantung. and wings like clouds across the sky. Upon a typhoon it soars up to a height of ninety thousand li, beyond the clouds and atmosphere, with only the clear sky above it. And then it directs its flight towards the south pole. "A quail laughed, and said: Pray, what may that creature be going to do? I rise but a few yards in the air, and settle again after flying around among the reeds. That is the most I can manage. Now, where ever can this creature be going to?" The repetition of this story, coupled with its quotation from the Record of Marvels, is considered to give an air of authenticity to Chuang Tzŭ's illustration, which the reader might otherwise suppose to be of his own invention.

Such, indeed, is the difference between small and great. Take, for instance, a man who creditably fills some small office, or who is a pattern of virtue in his neighbourhood, or who influences his prince to right government of the State, - his opinion of himself will be much the same as that quail's. The philosopher Yung laughs at such a one. He, if the whole world flattered him, would not be affected thereby, nor if the whole world blamed him would he lose his faith in himself. For Yung can distinguish between the intrinsic and the extrinsic, between honour and shame, - and such men are rare in their generation. But even he has not established himself. Beyond the limits of an external world. His achievements are after all only of the earth, earthy. There was Lieh Tzŭ again. A personage of whom nothing is really known. He is considered by the best authorities to have been of Chuang Tzŭ's own creation. This, however, did not prevent some enterprising scholar, probably of the Han dynasty, from discovering a treatise which still passes under Lieh Tzŭ's name.

He could ride upon the wind, and travel whithersoever he wished, staying away as long as fifteen days. Among mortals who attain happiness, such a man is rare. Yet although Lieh Tzŭ was able to dispense with walking, he was still dependent upon something. Sc. the wind. But had he been charioted upon the eternal fitness of Heaven and Earth, driving before him the elements as his team while roaming through the realms of For-Ever, - upon what, then, would he have had to depend? That is, nourished upon the doctrines of inaction, the continuity of life and death, etc., which will be dealt with in later chapters. Thus it has been said, "The perfect man ignores self; the divine man ignores action; the true Sage ignores reputation." His - for the three are one - is a bliss "beyond all that the minstrel has told." Material existences melt into thin air; worldly joys and sorrows cease for him who passes thus into the everlasting enjoyment of a transcendental peace. The Emperor Yao B.C. 2356. His reign, coupled with that of Shun who succeeded him, may be regarded as the Golden Age of China's history. See p. 8. wished to abdicate in favour of Hsü Yu, A worthy hermit.

saying, "If, when the sun and moon are shining, you persist in lighting a torch, is not that a misapplication of fire? If, when the rainy season is at its height, you still continue to water the ground, is not this a waste of labour? Now, sir, do you assume the reins of government, and the empire will be at peace. I am but a dead body, conscious of my own deficiency. I beg you will ascend the throne." "Ever since you, sire, have directed the administration," replied Hsü Yu, "the empire has enjoyed tranquillity. Supposing, therefore, that I were to take your place now, should I gain any reputation thereby? Besides, reputation is but the shadow of reality; and should I trouble myself about the shadow? The tit, building its nest in the mighty forest, occupies but a single twig. The tapir slakes its thirst from the river, but drinks enough only to fill its belly. To you, sire, belongs the reputation: the empire has no need for me. If a cook is unable to dress his funeral sacrifices, the boy who impersonates the corpse may not step over the wines and meats and do it for him." This illustrates rejection of reputation by the true Sage. See ch. vii. Chien Wu said to Lien Shu, Both fictitious personages.

Plain English · paraphraseSaying, "If, when the sun and moon are shining, you insist on lighting a torch, isn't that a misuse of fire? If, when the rainy season is at its peak, you still keep watering the ground, isn't that a waste of effort? Now, sir, you take up the reins of government, and the empire will be at peace. I am just a lifeless body, aware of my own shortcomings. I beg you to ascend the throne." "Since you, sire, have taken charge of the administration," replied Hsü Yu, "the empire has enjoyed peace. If I were to take your place now, would I gain any reputation from that? Also, reputation is only the shadow of reality; should I trouble myself about the shadow? The tit builds its nest in the great forest, but uses only one twig. The tapir drinks from the river, but only enough to fill its belly. The reputation belongs to you, sire; the empire does not need me. If a cook cannot prepare his funeral offerings, the boy who impersonates the corpse may not step over the wine and food to do it for him." This illustrates the rejection of reputation by the true Sage. See chapter vii. Chien Wu said to Lien Shu. Both fictitious personages.

"I heard Chieh Yü utter something unjustifiably extravagant and without either rhyme or reason. This was an individual, named Lu T'ung, who feigned madness in order to escape an official career. For his interview with Confucius, see ch. iv, ad fin. I was greatly startled at what he said, for it seemed to me boundless as the Milky Way, though very improbable and removed from the experiences of mortals." "What was it?" asked Lien Shu. "He declared," replied Chien Wu, "that on the Miao-ku-shê mountain Which is as fabulous as the story. there lives a divine man whose flesh is like ice or snow, whose demeanour is that of a virgin, who eats no fruit of the earth, but lives on air and dew, and who, riding on clouds with flying dragons for his team, roams beyond the limits of mortality. This being is absolutely inert. Yet he wards off corruption from all things, and causes the crops to thrive. Now I call that nonsense, and do not believe it."

"Well," answered Lien Shu, "you don't ask a blind man's opinion of a picture, nor do you invite a deaf man to a concert. And blindness and deafness are not physical only. There is blindness and deafness of the mind, diseases from which I fear you yourself are suffering. The good influence of that man fills all creation. Yet because a paltry generation cries for reform, you would have him condescend to the details of an empire! Not seeing that the greater contains the less. "Objective existences cannot harm him. In a flood which reached to the sky, he would not be drowned. In a drought, though metals ran liquid and mountains were scorched up, he would not be hot. Out of his very dust and siftings you might fashion two such men as Yao and Shun. And you would have him occupy himself with objectives!" Illustrating the inaction of the divine man.

A man of the Sung State carried some sacrificial caps into the Yüeh State, for sale. But the men of Yüeh used to cut off their hair and paint their bodies, so that they had no use for such things. And so, when the Emperor Yao, the ruler of all under heaven and pacificator of all within the shores of ocean, paid a visit to the four sages of the Miao-ku-shê mountain, on returning to his capital at Fên-yang, the empire existed for him no more. This illustrates the rejection of self by the perfect man. Yao had his eyes opened to the hollowness and uselessness of all mortal possessions. He ceased, therefore, to think any more of himself, and per consequens of the empire. Hui Tzŭ A celebrated schoolman, contemporary with and antagonistic to Chuang Tzŭ. For an account of his theories, see ch. xxxiii.

Plain English · paraphraseA man from the Sung State took some sacrificial caps to the Yüeh State to sell. But the people of Yüeh cut their hair and painted their bodies, so they had no use for such things. When Emperor Yao, the ruler of all under heaven and pacifier of all within the ocean's shores, visited the four sages of the Miao-ku-shê mountain, and then returned to his capital at Fên-yang, the empire no longer existed for him. This shows how the perfect man rejects himself. Yao saw the emptiness and uselessness of all mortal possessions. So he stopped thinking about himself, and therefore about the empire. Hui Tzŭ was a famous scholar of the time, a contemporary and opponent of Chuang Tzŭ. For an account of his theories, see chapter thirty-three.

said to Chuang Tzŭ, "The Prince of Wei gave me a seed of a large-sized kind of gourd. I planted it, and it bore a fruit as big as a five-bushel measure. Now had I used this for holding liquids, it would have been too heavy to lift; and had I cut it in half for ladles, the ladles would have been ill adapted for such purpose. It was uselessly large, so I broke it up." "Sir," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "it was rather you who did not know how to use large things. There was a man of Sung who had a recipe for salve for chapped hands, his family having been silk-washers for generations. Well, a stranger who had heard of it, came and offered him 100 oz. of silver for this recipe; whereupon he called together his clansmen and said, 'We have never made much money by silk-washing. Now, we can make 100 oz. in a single day. Let the stranger have the recipe.' "So the stranger got it, and went and informed the Prince of Wu who was just then at war with the Yüeh State. Accordingly, the Prince used it in a naval battle fought at the beginning of winter with the Yüeh State, the result being that the latter was totally defeated.

They suffered from chapped hands, while their rivals of the Wu State were protected by their patent salve. The stranger was rewarded with territory and a title. Thus, while the efficacy of the salve to cure chapped hands was in both cases the same, its application was different. Here, it secured a title; there, a capacity for washing silk. "Now as to your five-bushel gourd, why did you not make a boat of it, and float about over river and lake? You could not then have complained of its not holding anything! But I fear you are rather woolly inside." Like it. This, of course, is a sneer. Hui Tzŭ could not see that the greatness of a thing depends upon the greatness of its application. Hui Tzŭ said to Chuang Tzŭ, "Sir, I have a large tree, of a worthless kind. Its trunk is so irregular and knotty that it cannot be measured out for planks; while its branches are so twisted as to admit of no geometrical subdivision whatever. It stands by the roadside, but no carpenter will look at it. And your words, sir, are like that tree; - big and useless, not wanted by anybody."

"Sir," rejoined Chuang Tzŭ, "have you never seen a wild cat, crouching down in wait for its prey? Right and left it springs from bough to bough, high and low alike, - until perchance it gets caught in a trap or dies in a snare. On the other hand, there is the yak with its great huge body. It is big enough in all conscience, but it cannot catch mice. The adaptability of a thing is oft-times its bane. The inability of the yak to catch mice saves it from the snare which is fatal to the wild cat. "Now if you have a big tree and are at a loss what to do with it, why not plant it in the domain of non-existence, Beyond the limits of our external world. Referring to the conditions of mental abstraction in which alone true happiness is to be found. whither you might betake yourself to inaction by its side, to blissful repose beneath its shade? "Why does the horizon hold me fast, with my joy and grief in this centre?" - Emerson. There it would be safe from the axe and from all other injury; for being of no use to others, itself would be free from harm."

Illustrating the advantage of being useless. That which is small and useful is thus shown to be inferior to that which is large and useless.

THE IDENTITY OF CONTRARIES. Argument: - Contraries spring from our subjective individuality - Identity of subjective and objective - The centre where all distinctions are merged in ONE - How to reach this point - Speech an obstacle - The negative state - Light out of darkness - Illustrations. Tzŭ Ch'i of Nan-kuo sat leaning on a table. Looking up to heaven, he sighed and became absent, as though soul and body had parted. Yen Ch'êng Tzŭ Yu, who was standing by him, exclaimed, "What are you thinking about that your body should become thus like dry wood, your mind like dead ashes? Surely the man now leaning on the table is not he who was here just now." "My friend," replied Tzŭ Ch'i, "your question is apposite. To-day I have buried myself.... Do you understand?... Ah! perhaps you only know the music of Man, and not that of Earth. Or even if you have heard the music of Earth, you have not heard the music of Heaven." "Pray explain," said Tzŭ Yu. "The breath of the universe," continued Tzŭ Ch'i, "is called wind. At times, it is inactive. But when active, every aperture resounds to the blast. Have you never listened to its growing roar?

"Caves and dells of hill and forest, hollows in huge trees of many a span in girth; - these are like nostrils, like mouths, like ears, like beam-sockets, like goblets, like mortars, like ditches, like bogs. And the wind goes rushing through them, sniffing, snoring, singing, soughing, puffing, purling, whistling, whirring, now shrilly treble, now deeply bass, now soft, now loud; until, with a lull, silence reigns supreme. Have you never witnessed among the trees such a disturbance as this?" "Well, then," enquired Tzŭ Yu, "since the music of earth consists of nothing more than holes, and the music of man of pipes and flutes, - of what consists the music of Heaven?" "The effect of the wind upon these various apertures," replied Tzŭ Ch'i, "is not uniform. But what is it that gives to each the individuality, to all the potentiality, of sound? "Great knowledge embraces the whole: Sees both "the upper and under side of the medal of Jove" at once. small knowledge, a part only. Great speech is universal: Speech, according to Chuang Tzŭ's ideal, always covers the whole ground in question, leaving no room for positive and negative to appear in antagonism. small speech is particular.

"For whether when the mind is locked in sleep or whether when in waking hours the body is released, we are subject to daily mental perturbations, - indecision, want of penetration, concealment, fretting fear, and trembling terror. Now like a javelin the mind flies forth, the arbiter of right and wrong. Thus recognising contraries. Now like a solemn covenanter it remains firm, the guardian of rights secured. Adhering to an opinion formed. Then, as under autumn and winter's blight, comes gradual decay, a passing away, like the flow of water, never to return. Finally, the block when all is choked up like an old drain, - the failing mind which shall not see light again. "Joy and anger, sorrow and happiness, caution and remorse, come upon us by turns, with ever-changing mood. They come like music from hollowness, like mushrooms from damp. Daily and nightly they alternate within us, but we cannot tell whence they spring. Can we then hope in a moment to lay our finger upon their very Cause?

"But for these emotions I should not be. But for me, they would have no scope. So far we can go; but we do not know what it is that brings them into play. 'Twould seem to be a soul; but the clue to its existence is wanting. That such a Power operates, is credible enough, though we cannot see its form. It has functions without form. As will be gathered later on, Chuang Tzŭ conceives of the soul as an emanation from God, passing to and from this earth through the portals of Life and Death. "Take the human body with all its manifold divisions. Which part of it does a man love best? Does he not cherish all equally, or has he a preference? Do not all equally serve him? And do these servitors then govern themselves, or are they subdivided into rulers and subjects? Surely there is some soul which sways them all.

Plain English · paraphraseBut for these emotions, I would not be. But for me, they would have no place. So far we can go; but we do not know what brings them into play. It seems to be a soul; but we lack the clue to prove it exists. That such a power operates is believable enough, even if we cannot see its form. It has functions without form. As will be gathered later on, Chuang Tzu conceives of the soul as an emanation from God, passing to and from this earth through the portals of Life and Death. "Take the human body with all its many parts. Which part of it does a man love best? Does he not cherish all equally, or does he have a preference? Do not all parts serve him equally? And do these servants then govern themselves, or are they divided into rulers and subjects? Surely there is some soul that rules them all.

"But whether or not we ascertain what are the functions of this soul, it matters but little to the soul itself. For coming into existence with this mortal coil of mine, with the exhaustion of this mortal coil its mandate will also be exhausted. To be harassed by the wear and tear of life, and to pass rapidly through it without possibility of arresting one's course, - is not this pitiful indeed? To labour without ceasing, and then, without living to enjoy the fruit, worn out, to depart, suddenly, one knows not whither, - is not that a just cause for grief? "What advantage is there in what men call not dying? The body decomposes, and the mind goes with it. This is our real cause for sorrow. Can the world be so dull as not to see this? Or is it I alone who am dull, and others not so? "If we are to be guided by the criteria of our own minds, who shall be without a guide? The mind should be a tabula rasa, free from all judgments or opinions of its own as to the external world, and ready only to accept things as they are, not as they appear to be. What need to know of the alternations of passion, As above described.

when the mind thus affords scope to itself? - verily even the minds of fools! Whereas, for a mind without criteria As it should be. to admit the idea of contraries, is like saying, I went to Yüeh to-day, and got there yesterday. One of Hui Tzŭ's paradoxes. See ch. xxxiii. Or, like placing nowhere somewhere, - topography which even the Great Yü The famous engineer of antiquity (B.C. 2205), who drained the empire of a vast body of water and arranged its subdivision into nine provinces. would fail to understand; how much more I? "Speech is not mere breath. It is differentiated by meaning. Take away that, and you cannot say whether it is speech or not. Can you even distinguish it from the chirping of young birds? "But how can TAO be so obscured that we speak of it as true and false? And how can speech be so obscured that it admits the idea of contraries? How can TAO go away and yet not remain? Being omnipresent. How can speech exist and yet be impossible? See p. 13. "TAO is obscured by our want of grasp. Speech is obscured by the gloss of this world. I.e. by the one-sided meanings attached to words and phrases. Hence the affirmatives and negatives of the Confucian and Mihist schools,

Mih Tzŭ was a philosopher of the fourth century B.C., who propounded various theories which were vigorously attacked by the Confucianists under Mencius. We shall hear more of him by-and-by. each denying what the other affirmed and affirming what the other denied. But he who would reconcile affirmative with negative and negative with affirmative, The "union of impossibilities," which Emerson credits to Plato alone. must do so by the light of nature. I.e. Have no established mental criteria, and thus see all things as ONE. "There is nothing which is not objective: there is nothing which is not subjective. But it is impossible to start from the objective. Only from subjective knowledge is it possible to proceed to objective knowledge. Hence it has been said, By Hui Tzŭ. 'The objective emanates from the subjective; the subjective is consequent upon the objective. This is the Alternation Theory.' Nevertheless, when one is born, the other dies. When one is possible, the other is impossible. When one is affirmative the other is negative. Which being the case, the true sage rejects all distinctions of this and that. He takes his refuge in GOD, and places himself in subjective relation with all things. It was to this end that Tzŭ Ch'i "buried himself."

"And inasmuch as the subjective is also objective, and the objective also subjective, and as the contraries under each are indistinguishably blended, does it not become impossible for us to say whether subjective and objective really exist at all? What is positive under the one will be negative under the other. Yet as subjective and objective are really one and the same, their positives and negatives must also be one and the same. It is as though we were to view them through a kind of mental Pseudoscope, by which means each would appear to be the other. "When subjective and objective are both without their correlates, that is the very axis of TAO. And when that axis passes through the centre at which all Infinities converge, positive and negative alike blend into an infinite ONE. Hence it has been said that there is nothing like the light of nature. Probably an allusion to Lao Tzŭ's "Use the light that is within you to revert to your natural clearness of sight." We should then be able to view things in their true light. See Tao-Tê-Ching, ch. lii., and The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 34.

"To take a finger in illustration of a finger not being a finger is not so good as to take something which is not a finger. To take a horse in illustration of a horse not being a horse is not so good as to take something which is not a horse. "So with the universe and all that in it is. These things are but fingers and horses in this sense. The possible is possible: the impossible is impossible. TAO operates, and given results follow. Things receive names and are what they are. They achieve this by their natural affinity for what they are and their natural antagonism to what they are not. For all things have their own particular constitutions and potentialities. Nothing can exist without these. These last few sentences are repeated in ch. xxvii. ad init. "We can never know anything but phenomena. Things are what they are, and their consequences will be what they will be." - J. S. Mill. "Therefore it is that, viewed from the standpoint of TAO, a beam and a pillar are identical. The horizontal with the vertical.

So are ugliness and beauty, greatness, wickedness, perverseness, and strangeness. Separation is the same as construction: construction is the same as destruction. Nothing is subject either to construction or to destruction, for these conditions are brought together into ONE. "Only the truly intelligent understand this principle of the identity of all things. They do not view things as apprehended by themselves, subjectively; but transfer themselves into the position of the things viewed. Avoiding the fallacious channels of the senses. And viewing them thus they are able to comprehend them, nay, to master them; - and he who can master them is near. So it is that to place oneself in subjective relation with externals, without consciousness of their objectivity, - this is TAO. But to wear out one's intellect in an obstinate adherence to the individuality of things, not recognising the fact that all things are ONE, - this is called Three in the Morning." "What is Three in the Morning?" asked Tzŭ Yu.

"A keeper of monkeys," replied Tzŭ Ch'i, "said with regard to their rations of chestnuts that each monkey was to have three in the morning and four at night. But at this the monkeys were very angry, so the keeper said they might have four in the morning and three at night, with which arrangement they were all well pleased. The actual number of the chestnuts remained the same, but there was an adaptation to the likes and dislikes of those concerned. Such is the principle of putting oneself into subjective relation with externals. "Wherefore the true Sage, while regarding contraries as identical, adapts himself to the laws of Heaven. This is called following two courses at once. He is thus prevented from trying to walk through walls, etc., as later Taoists have professed themselves able to do, of course with a view to gull the public and enrich themselves. "GOD," says Locke, "when he makes the prophet, does not unmake the man." So Carlyle in his essay on Novalis: - "To a Transcendentalist, matter has an existence but only as a Phenomenon.... It is a mere relation, or rather the result of a relation between our living souls and the great First Cause."

"The knowledge of the men of old had a limit. It extended back to a period when matter did not exist. That was the extreme point to which their knowledge reached. "The second period was that of matter, but of matter unconditioned. By time or space. "Being, in itself," says Herbert Spencer, "out of relation, is itself unthinkable." Principles of Psychology, iii. p. 258. "The third epoch saw matter conditioned, but contraries were still unknown. When these appeared, TAO began to decline. And with the decline of TAO, individual bias arose. "Have then these states of falling and rising real existences? Surely they are but as the falling and rising of Chao Wên's music, - the consequences of his playing. Chao Wên played the guitar. Shih K'uang wielded the bâton. To keep time. Hui Tzŭ argued. Herein these three men excelled, and in the practice of such arts they passed their lives. "Hui Tzŭ's particular views being very different from those of the world in general, he was correspondingly anxious to enlighten people. But he did not enlighten them as he should have done, By the cultivation and passive manifestation of his own inward light. and consequently ended in the obscurity of the 'hard and white.'

Hui Tzŭ regarded such abstractions as hardness and whiteness as separate existences, of which the mind could only be conscious separately, one at a time. Subsequently, his son searched his works for some clue, but never succeeded in establishing the principle. And indeed if such were possible to be established, then even I am established; but if not, then neither I nor anything in the universe is established! "Therefore what the true Sage aims at is the light which comes out of darkness. He does not view things as apprehended by himself, subjectively, but transfers himself into the position of the things viewed. This is called using the light. "There remains, however, Speech. Is that to be enrolled under either category of contraries, or not? Whether it is so enrolled or not, it will in any case belong to one or the other, and thus be as though it had an objective existence. At any rate, I should like to hear some speech which belongs to neither category. Contraries being disposed of, there remains the vehicle Speech, i.e. the actual terms in which it is stated that contraries have ceased to be. "If there was a beginning, then there was a time before that beginning. And a time before the time which was before the time of that beginning.

"If there is existence, there must have been non-existence. And if there was a time when nothing existed, then there must have been a time before that - when even nothing did not exist. Suddenly, when nothing came into existence, could one really say whether it belonged to the category of existence or of non-existence? Even the very words I have just now uttered, - I cannot say whether they have really been uttered or not. I.e. The words in the text, denying the existence of contraries. "There is nothing under the canopy of heaven greater than the tip of an autumn spikelet. A vast mountain is a small thing. Neither is there any age greater than that of a child cut off in infancy. P'êng Tsu himself died young. The universe and I came into being together; and I, and everything therein, are ONE. "If then all things are ONE, what room is there for Speech? On the other hand, since I can utter these words, how can Speech not exist? "If it does exist, we have ONE and Speech = two; and two and one = three. From which point onwards even the best mathematicians will fail to reach: TAO. how much more then will ordinary people fail?

"Hence, if from nothing you can proceed to something, and subsequently reach three, it follows that it would be still more easy if you were to start from something. To avoid such progression, you must put yourself into subjective relation with the external. "Before conditions existed, TAO was. Before definitions existed, Speech was. Subjectively, we are conscious of certain delimitations which are, - Right and Left Relationship and Obligation Division and Discrimination Emulation and Contention These are called the Eight Predicables. Not, of course, in the strict logical sense. For the true Sage, beyond the limits of an external world, they exist, but are not recognised. By the true Sage, within the limits of an external world, they are recognised, but are not assigned. And so, with regard to the wisdom of the ancients, as embodied in the canon of Spring and Autumn, Confucius' history of his native State. Now one of the canonical books of China. the true Sage assigns, but does not justify by argument. And thus, classifying he does not classify; arguing, he does not argue." "How can that be?" asked Tzŭ Yu.

"The true Sage," answered Tzŭ Ch'i, "keeps his knowledge within him, while men in general set forth theirs in argument, in order to convince each other. And therefore it is said that in argument he does not manifest himself. Others try to establish their own subjective view. The true Sage remains passive, aiming only at the annihilation of contraries. "Perfect TAO does not declare itself. Nor does perfect argument express itself in words. Nor does perfect charity show itself in act. Nor is perfect honesty absolutely incorruptible. Nor is perfect courage absolutely unyielding. "For the TAO which shines forth is not TAO. Speech which argues falls short of its aim. Charity which has fixed points loses its scope. Honesty which is absolute is wanting in credit. Courage which is absolute misses its object. These five are, as it were, round, with a strong bias towards squareness. Therefore that knowledge which stops at what it does not know, is the highest knowledge. "Who knows the argument which can be argued without words? - the TAO which does not declare itself as TAO? He who knows this may be said to be of GOD. To be able to pour in without making full, and pour out without making empty, in ignorance of the power by which such results are accomplished, - this is accounted Light."

Of old, the Emperor Yao said to Shun, "I would smite the Tsungs, and the Kueis, and the Hsü-aos. Ever since I have been on the throne I have had this desire. What do you think?" "These three States," replied Shun, "are paltry out-of-the-way places. Why can you not shake off this desire? Once upon a time, ten suns came out together, and all things were illuminated thereby. How much more then should virtue excel suns?" Illustrating the use of "light." Instead of active force, substitute the passive but irresistible influence of virtue complete. The sun caused the traveller to lay aside his cloak when the north wind succeeded only in making him draw it tighter around him. Yeh Ch'üeh asked Wang I, A disciple and tutor of remote antiquity. Said to have been two of the four Sages on the Miao-ku-shê mountain mentioned in ch. i. saying, "Do you know for certain that all things are subjectively the same?" "How can I know?" answered Wang I. "Do you know what you do not know?" "How can I know?" replied Yeh Ch'üeh. "But can then nothing be known?"

Plain English · paraphraseLong ago, Emperor Yao said to Shun, "I want to attack the Tsungs, the Kueis, and the Hsü-aos. Since I became emperor, I have always wanted to do this. What do you think?" "These three states," Shun replied, "are just small, remote places. Why can you not give up this desire? Once upon a time, ten suns appeared together, and everything was illuminated. How much more should virtue surpass the suns?" This illustrates the use of "light." Instead of using force, substitute the passive but unstoppable influence of complete virtue. The sun made the traveler take off his coat, while the north wind only made him wrap it tighter around him. Yeh Ch'üeh asked Wang I, a disciple and tutor from ancient times. He was said to be one of the four Sages on the Miao-ku-shê mountain mentioned in chapter one. Yeh Ch'üeh asked, "Do you know for certain that all things are the same in nature?" "How can I know?" Wang I answered. "Do you know what you do not know?" "How can I know?" Yeh Ch'üeh replied. "But then can nothing be known?"

"How can I know?" said Wang I. "Nevertheless, I will try to tell you. How can it be known that what I call knowing is not really not knowing, and that what I call not knowing is not really knowing? Now I would ask you this. If a man sleeps in a damp place, he gets lumbago and dies. But how about an eel? And living up in a tree is precarious and trying to the nerves; - but how about monkeys? Of the man, the eel, and the monkey, whose habitat is the right one, absolutely? Human beings feed on flesh, deer on grass, centipedes on snakes, owls and crows on mice. Of these four, whose is the right taste, absolutely? Monkey mates with monkey, the buck with the doe; eels consort with fishes, while men admire Mao Ch'iang and Li Chi, Beauties of the fifth and seventh centuries B.C., respectively. The commentators do not seem to have noted the very obvious anachronism here involved. at the sight of whom fishes plunge deep down in the water, birds soar high in the air, and deer hurry away. For shame at their own inferiority.

Yet who shall say which is the correct standard of beauty? In my opinion, the standard of human virtue, and of positive and negative, is so obscured that it is impossible to actually know it as such." "If you then," asked Yeh Ch'üeh, "do not know what is bad for you, is the Perfect Man equally without this knowledge?" "The Perfect Man," answered Wang I, "is a spiritual being. Were the ocean itself scorched up, he would not feel hot. Were the Milky Way frozen hard, he would not feel cold. Were the mountains to be riven with thunder, and the great deep to be thrown up by storm, he would not tremble. In such case, he would mount upon the clouds of heaven, and driving the sun and the moon before him, would pass beyond the limits of this external world, where death and life have no more victory over man; - how much less what is bad for him?" Chü Ch'iao addressed Chang Wu Tzŭ A disciple and tutor of antiquity.

as follows: - "I heard Confucius say, 'The true sage pays no heed to mundane affairs. He neither seeks gain nor avoids injury. He asks nothing at the hands of man. He adheres, without questioning, to TAO. Without speaking, he can speak; and he can speak and yet say nothing. And so he roams beyond the limits of this dusty world. These,' added Confucius, 'are wild words.' Han Fei Tzŭ tells us that Lao Tzŭ, whose doctrines Confucius seems to be here deriding, said exactly the opposite of this; viz: "The true Sage is beforehand in his attention to mundane affairs," i.e. "takes time by the forelock." Neither utterance, however, appears in the Tao-Tê-Ching. See The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 44. Now to me they are the skilful embodiment of TAO. What, Sir, is your opinion?" "Points upon which the Yellow Emperor doubted," replied Chang Wu Tzŭ, "how should Confucius know? Lao Tzŭ and the Yellow Emperor have always been mixed up in the heads of Taoist writers, albeit separated by a chasm of some two thousand years. Confucius is here evidently dealing with the actual doctrines of Lao Tzŭ.

Plain English · paraphraseHere is the passage rewritten in plain, modern English: "I heard Confucius say, 'The true sage pays no attention to worldly matters. He does not seek profit, nor does he avoid harm. He does not demand anything from people. He follows the TAO without question. Without speaking, he can communicate; and even when he speaks, he says nothing. And so he wanders beyond the limits of this dusty world.' These, added Confucius, 'are wild words.' Han Fei Tzŭ tells us that Lao Tzŭ, whose teachings Confucius seems to be mocking here, said exactly the opposite: 'The true Sage is always ready to deal with worldly matters,' that is, 'he seizes the moment.' But neither of these statements appears in the _Tao-Tê-Ching_. See _The Remains of Lao Tzŭ_, page 44. To me, they are a skillful expression of the TAO. What, Sir, is your opinion?" "Points that the Yellow Emperor doubted," replied Chang Wu Tzŭ, "how could Confucius know? Lao Tzŭ and the Yellow Emperor are often confused in the minds of Taoist writers, even though they are separated by a gap of about two thousand years. Confucius is clearly dealing here with the actual teachings of Lao Tzŭ."

You are going too fast. You see your egg, and expect to hear it crow. You look at your cross-bow, and expect to have broiled duck before you. I will say a few words to you at random, and do you listen at random. "How does the Sage seat himself by the sun and moon, and hold the universe in his grasp? He blends everything into one harmonious whole, rejecting the confusion of this and that. Rank and precedence, which the vulgar prize, the Sage stolidly ignores. The revolutions of ten thousand years leave his Unity unscathed. The universe itself may pass away, but he will flourish still. "How do I know that love of life is not a delusion after all? How do I know but that he who dreads to die is not as a child who has lost the way and cannot find his home? "The lady Li Chi was the daughter of Ai Fêng. A border chieftain. When the Duke of Chin first got her, she wept until the bosom of her dress was drenched with tears. But when she came to the royal residence, and lived with the Duke, and ate rich food, she repented of having wept. How then do I know but that the dead repent of having previously clung to life?

"Those who dream of the banquet, wake to lamentation and sorrow. Those who dream of lamentation and sorrow wake to join the hunt. While they dream, they do not know that they dream. Some will even interpret the very dream they are dreaming; and only when they awake do they know it was a dream. By and by comes the Great Awakening, and then we find out that this life is really a great dream. Fools think they are awake now, and flatter themselves they know if they are really princes or peasants. Confucius and you are both dreams; and I who say you are dreams, - I am but a dream myself. This is a paradox. Tomorrow a sage may arise to explain it; but that tomorrow will not be until ten thousand generations have gone by. "Granting that you and I argue. If you beat me, and not I you, are you necessarily right and I wrong? Or if I beat you and not you me, am I necessarily right and you wrong? Or are we both partly right and partly wrong? Or are we both wholly right and wholly wrong? You and I cannot know this, and consequently the world will be in ignorance of the truth.

Plain English · paraphrase"Those who dream of a banquet wake up to grief and sorrow. Those who dream of grief and sorrow wake up to take part in the hunt. While they are dreaming, they don’t know they are dreaming. Some will even interpret the very dream they are dreaming; and only when they wake up do they realize it was a dream. One day the Great Awakening will come, and then we will find out that this life is really a great dream. Fools think they are awake now, and they tell themselves they know whether they are really princes or peasants. Confucius and you are both dreams; and I, who say you are dreams, am a dream myself. This is a paradox. Tomorrow a wise person may arise to explain it; but that tomorrow will not come until ten thousand generations have passed. "Suppose you and I argue. If you beat me, and not I you, are you necessarily right and I wrong? Or if I beat you, and not you me, am I necessarily right and you wrong? Or are we both partly right and partly wrong? Or are we both completely right and completely wrong? You and I cannot know this, and so the world will remain in ignorance of the truth."

"Who shall I employ as arbiter between us? If I employ some one who takes your view, he will side with you. How can such a one arbitrate between us? If I employ some one who takes my view, he will side with me. How can such a one arbitrate between us? And if I employ some one who either differs from, or agrees with, both of us, he will be equally unable to decide between us. Since then you, and I, and man, cannot decide, must we not depend upon Another? Upon God, in whose infinity all contraries blend indistinguishably into ONE. Such dependence is as though it were not dependence. We are embraced in the obliterating unity of God. There is perfect adaptation to whatever may eventuate; and so we complete our allotted span. "But what is it to be embraced in the obliterating unity of God? It is this. With reference to positive and negative, to that which is so and that which is not so, - if the positive is really positive, it must necessarily be different from its negative: there is no room for argument. And if that which is so really is so, it must necessarily be different from that which is not so: there is no room for argument.

"Take no heed of time, nor of right and wrong. But passing into the realm of the Infinite, take your final rest therein." Our refuge is in God alone, the Infinite Absolute. Contraries cannot but exist, but they should exist independently of each other without antagonism. Such a condition is found only in the all-embracing unity of God, wherein all distinctions of positive and negative, of right and wrong, of this and of that, are obliterated and merged in ONE. Herbert Spencer says, "The antithesis of subject and object, never to be transcended while consciousness lasts, renders impossible all knowledge of the Ultimate Reality in which subject and object are united." Principles of Psychology, i. p. 272. The Penumbra said to the Umbra, "At one moment you move: at another you are at rest. At one moment you sit down: at another you get up. Why this instability of purpose?" "I depend," replied the Umbra, "upon something which causes me to do as I do; and that something depends in turn upon something else which causes it to do as it does. My dependence is like that of a snake's scales or of a cicada's wings. Which do not move of their own accord. How can I tell why I do one thing, or why I do not do another?"

Showing how two or more may be the phenomena of one. Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzŭ, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of following my fancies as a butterfly, and was unconscious of my individuality as a man. Suddenly, I awaked, and there I lay, myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man. Between a man and a butterfly there is necessarily a barrier. The transition is called Metempsychosis. Showing how one may appear to be either of two.

Plain English · paraphraseExplaining how two or more things can be the appearances of one. Once, I, Zhuangzi, dreamed I was a butterfly, fluttering here and there, in every way a butterfly. I only knew the feelings of being a butterfly and did not know I was a person. Suddenly, I woke up and there I was, myself again. Now I do not know if I was then a person dreaming I was a butterfly, or if I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a person. Between a person and a butterfly there must be a boundary. This change is called _Metempsychosis_. Explaining how one thing can seem to be either of two.

NOURISHMENT OF THE SOUL. Argument: - Life too short - Wisdom unattainable - Accommodation to circumstances - Liberty paramount - Death a release - The soul immortal. My life has a limit, but my knowledge is without limit. To drive the limited in search of the limitless, is fatal; and the knowledge of those who do this is fatally lost. In striving for others, avoid fame. In striving for self, avoid disgrace. Pursue a middle course. Thus you will keep a sound body, and a sound mind, fulfil your duties, and work out your allotted span. Prince Hui's cook was cutting up a bullock. Every blow of his hand, every heave of his shoulders, every tread of his foot, every thrust of his knee, every whshh of rent flesh, every chhk of the chopper, was in perfect harmony, - rhythmical like the dance of the Mulberry Grove, simultaneous like the chords of the Ching Shou. Commentators are divided in their identifications of these ancient morceaux. "Well done!" cried the Prince. "Yours is skill indeed." "Sire," replied the cook; "I have always devoted myself to TAO. It is better than skill. When I first began to cut up bullocks, I saw before me simply whole bullocks. After three years' practice, I saw no more whole animals. Meaning that he saw them, so to speak, in sections.

And now I work with my mind and not with my eye. When my senses bid me stop, but my mind urges me on, I fall back upon eternal principles. I follow such openings or cavities as there may be, according to the natural constitution of the animal. I do not attempt to cut through joints: still less through large bones. For a curious parallelism, see Plato's Phædrus, 265. "A good cook changes his chopper once a year, - because he cuts. An ordinary cook, once a month, - because he hacks. But I have had this chopper nineteen years, and although I have cut up many thousand bullocks, its edge is as if fresh from the whetstone. For at the joints there are always interstices, and the edge of a chopper being without thickness, it remains only to insert that which is without thickness into such an interstice. These words help to elucidate a much-vexed passage in ch. xliii of the Tao-Tê-Ching. See The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 30. By these means the interstice will be enlarged, and the blade will find plenty of room. It is thus that I have kept my chopper for nineteen years as though fresh from the whetstone.

"Nevertheless, when I come upon a hard part where the blade meets with a difficulty, I am all caution. I fix my eye on it. I stay my hand, and gently apply my blade, until with a hwah the part yields like earth crumbling to the ground. Then I take out my chopper, and stand up, and look around, and pause, until with an air of triumph I wipe my chopper and put it carefully away." "Bravo!" cried the Prince. "From the words of this cook I have learnt how to take care of my life." Meaning that which informs life, sc. the soul. When Hsien, of the Kung-wên family, beheld a certain official, he was horrified, and said, "Who is that man? How came he to lose a foot? Is this the work of God, or of man? "Why, of course," continued Hsien, "it is the work of God, and not of man. When God brought this man into the world, he wanted him to be unlike other men. Men always have two feet. From this it is clear that God and not man made him as he is.

It was by God's will that he took office with a view to personal aggrandisement. That he got into trouble and suffered the common punishment of loss of feet, cannot therefore be charged to man. "Now, wild fowl get a peck once in ten steps, a drink once in a hundred. Yet they do not want to be fed in a cage. For although they would thus be able to command food, they would not be free." And had our friend above kept out of the official cage he would still have been independent as the fowls of the air. When Lao Tzŭ died, Ch'in Shih went to mourn. He uttered three yells and departed. A disciple asked him saying, "Were you not our Master's friend?" "I was," replied Ch'in Shih. "And if so, do you consider that a sufficient expression of grief at his loss?" added the disciple.

Plain English · paraphraseHe took office for his own gain, by the will of God. That he got into trouble and lost his feet, the common punishment for his actions, cannot be blamed on other people. "Wild birds get a peck of food every ten steps, a drink every hundred. Still, they don't want to be fed in a cage. For even though they would always have food, they would lose their freedom." If our friend had stayed out of the official cage, he would still have been as free as the birds in the sky. When Lao Tzŭ died, Ch'in Shih went to mourn. He cried out three times and left. A student asked him, "Were you not our Master's friend?" "I was," said Ch'in Shih. "Then is that all the grief you feel for his loss?" the student added.

"I do," said Ch'in Shih. "I had believed him to be the man of all men, but now I know that he was not. When I went in to mourn, I found old persons weeping as if for their children, young ones wailing as if for their mothers. And for him to have gained the attachment of those people in this way, he too must have uttered words which should not have been spoken, and dropped tears which should not have been shed, thus violating eternal principles, increasing the sum of human emotion, and forgetting the source from which his own life was received. The ancients called such emotions the trammels of mortality. The Master came, because it was his time to be born; he went, because it was his time to die. For those who accept the phenomenon of birth and death in this sense, lamentation and sorrow have no place. The ancients spoke of death as of God cutting down a man suspended in the air. The fuel is consumed, but the fire may be transmitted, and we know not that it comes to an end."

The soul, according to Chuang Tzŭ, if duly nourished and not allowed to wear itself out with the body in the pursuits of mortality, may become immortal and return beatified to the Great Unknown whence it came.

Plain English · paraphraseAccording to Chuang Tzu, if the soul is properly nourished and not worn out with the body in the pursuits of mortal life, it may become immortal and return, blessed, to the Great Unknown from which it came.

MAN AMONG MEN. Argument: - Man must fall in with his mortal environment - His virtue should be passive, not active - He should be rather than do - Talents a hindrance - But of petty uselessness great usefulness is achieved. Yen Hui went to take leave of Confucius. A disciple of the Sage. Also known as Tzŭ Yüan. "Whither are you bound?" asked the Master. "I am going to the State of Wei," was the reply. "And what do you propose to do there?" continued Confucius. "I hear," answered Yen Hui, "that the Prince of Wei is of mature age, but of an unmanageable disposition. He behaves as if the State were of no account, and will not see his own faults. Consequently, the people perish; and their corpses lie about like so much undergrowth in a marsh. They are at extremities. And I have heard you, Sir, say that if a State is well governed it may be neglected; but that if it is badly governed, then we should visit it. In the Lun Yü, Confucius says exactly the opposite of this. The science of medicine embraces many various diseases. I would test my knowledge in this sense, that perchance I may do some good to that State."

"Alas!" cried Confucius, "you will only succeed in bringing evil upon yourself. For TAO must not be distributed. If it is, it will lose its unity. If it loses its unity, it will be uncertain; and so cause mental disturbance, - from which there is no escape. "The sages of old first got TAO for themselves, and then got it for others. Before you possess this yourself, what leisure have you to attend to the doings of wicked men? Besides, do you know what Virtue results in and where Wisdom ends? Virtue results in a desire for fame; Wisdom ends in contentions. In the struggle for fame men crush each other, while their wisdom but provokes rivalry. Both are baleful instruments, and may not be incautiously used. "Besides, those who, before influencing by their own solid virtue and unimpeachable sincerity, and before reaching the heart by the example of their own disregard for name and fame, go and preach charity and duty to one's neighbour to wicked men, - only make these men hate them for their very goodness' sake. Such persons are called evil speakers. And those who speak evil of others are apt to be evil spoken of themselves. That, alas! will be your end.

"On the other hand, if the Prince loves the good and hates the bad, what object will you have in inviting him to change his ways? Before you have opened your mouth to preach, the Prince himself will have seized the opportunity to wrest the victory from you. Your eye will fall, your expression fade, your words will stick, your face will change, and your heart will die within you. It will be as though you took fire to quell fire, water to quell water, which is popularly known as 'pouring oil on the flames.' And if you begin with concessions, there will be no end to them. Neglect this sound advice, and you will be the victim of that violent man. "Of old, Chieh murdered Kuan Lung Fêng, and Chou slew Prince Pi Kan. Their victims were both men who cultivated virtue themselves in order to secure the welfare of the people. But in doing this they offended their superiors; and therefore, because of that very moral culture, their superiors got rid of them, in order to guard their own reputations. Chieh and Chou are the two typical tyrants of Chinese history.

Plain English · paraphraseOn the other hand, if the Prince loves the good and hates the bad, what reason will you have for urging him to change his ways? Before you even open your mouth to preach, the Prince himself will have already taken the chance to win over you. Your eyes will droop, your expression will weaken, your words will fail, your face will change, and your heart will die inside you. It will be like trying to put out fire with fire, water with water, which is commonly called "pouring oil on the flames." And if you start by making concessions, there will be no end to them. Ignore this good advice, and you will fall victim to that violent man. "Long ago, Chieh murdered Kuan Lung Fêng, and Chou killed Prince Pi Kan. Both victims were men who practiced virtue themselves to protect the people's well-being. But in doing so, they offended their superiors; and so, because of that very moral behavior, their superiors got rid of them, to protect their own reputations. Chieh and Chou are the two typical tyrants in Chinese history.

"Of old, Yao attacked the Ts'ung-chih and Hsü-ao countries, and Yü attacked the Yu-hu country. Homes were desolated and families destroyed by the slaughter of the inhabitants. Yet they fought without ceasing, and strove for victory to the last. These are instances known to all. Now if the Sages of old failed in their efforts against this love of fame, this desire for victory, - are you likely to succeed? But of course you have a scheme. Tell it to me." "Gravity of demeanour," replied Yen Hui, "and dispassionateness; energy and singleness of purpose, - will this do?" "Alas!" said Confucius, "that will not do. If you make a show of being perfect and obtrude yourself, the Prince's mood will be doubtful. Ordinarily, he is not opposed, and so he has come to take actual pleasure in trampling upon the feelings of others. And if he has thus failed in the practice of routine virtues, do you expect that he will take readily to higher ones? You may insist, but without result. Outwardly you will be right, but inwardly wrong. How then will you make him mend his ways?" "Just so," replied Yen Hui. "I am inwardly straight, and outwardly crooked, completed after the models of antiquity.

"He who is inwardly straight is a servant of God. And he who is a servant of God knows that the Son of Heaven The Emperor. and himself are equally the children of God. Shall then such a one trouble whether man visits him with evil or with good? Man indeed regards him as a child; and this is to be a servant of God. (1) Children are everywhere exempt. - This is the first limb of a threefold argument. "He who is outwardly crooked is a servant of man. He bows, he kneels, he folds his hands; - such is the ceremonial of a minister. What all men do, shall I dare not to do? What all men do, none will blame me for doing. This is to be a servant of man. (2) The individual is not punished for the faults of the community. "He who is completed after the models of antiquity is a servant of the Sages of old. Although I utter the words of warning and take him to task, it is the Sages of old who speak, and not I. Thus my uprightness will not bring me into trouble, the servant of the Sages of old. - Will this do?" (3) The responsibility rests, not with the mouthpiece, but with the authors of the doctrines enunciated.

"Alas!" replied Confucius, "No. Your plans are too many, and are lacking in prudence. However, your firmness will secure you from harm; but that is all. You will not influence him to such an extent that he shall seem to follow the dictates of his own heart." "Then," said Yen Hui, "I am without resource, and venture to ask for a method." Confucius said, "FAST.... Let me explain. You have a method, but it is difficult to practise. Those which are easy are not from God." "Well," replied Yen Hui, "my family is poor, and for many months we have tasted neither wine nor flesh. Is not that fasting?" "The fasting of religious observance it is," answered Confucius, "but not the fasting of the heart." "And may I ask," said Yen Hui, "in what consists the fasting of the heart?" "Cultivate unity," replied Confucius. Make of the mind as it were an undivided indivisible ONE. "You hear not with the ears, but with the mind; not with the mind, but with your soul. The vital fluid which informs your whole being; in fact, "with your whole self."

But let hearing stop with the ears. Let the working of the mind stop with itself. Then the soul will be a negative existence, passively responsive to externals. In such a negative existence, only TAO can abide. And that negative state is the fasting of the heart." "Then," said Yen Hui, "the reason I could not get the use of this method is my own individuality. If I could get the use of it, my individuality would have gone. Is this what you mean by the negative state?" "Exactly so," replied the Master. "Let me tell you. If you can enter this man's domain without offending his amour propre, cheerful if he hears you, passive if he does not; without science, without drugs, simply living there in a state of complete indifference, - you will be near success. It is easy to stop walking: the trouble is to walk without touching the ground. As an agent of man, it is easy to deceive; but not as an agent of God. You have heard of winged creatures flying. You have never heard of flying without wings. You have heard of men being wise with wisdom. You have never heard of men wise without wisdom. Wise of God, without the wisdom of man.

"Look at that window. Through it an empty room becomes bright with scenery; but the landscape stops outside. Were this not so, we should have an exemplification of sitting still and running away at one and the same time. An empty room would contain something, - a paradox like that in the text. "In this sense, you may use your ears and eyes to communicate within, but shut out all wisdom from the mind. Let the channels of your senses be to your mind what a window is to an empty room. And there where the supernatural Something which is and yet is not, like the landscape seen in, and yet not in, a room. can find shelter, shall not man find shelter too? This is the method for regenerating all creation. By passive, not by active, virtue. It was the instrument which Yü and Shun employed. It was the secret of the success of Fu Hsi and Chi Chü. Shall it not then be adopted by mankind in general?" Who stand much more in need of regeneration than such worthies as were these ancient Emperors. Tzŭ Kao, Duke of Shê, A district of the Ch'u State.

being about to go on a mission to the Ch'i State, asked Confucius, saying, "The mission my sovereign is sending me on is a most important one. Of course, I shall be received with all due respect, but they will not take the same interest in the matter that I shall. And as an ordinary person cannot be pushed, still less a Prince, I am in a state of great alarm. "Now you, Sir, have told me that in all undertakings great and small, TAO alone leads to a happy issue. Otherwise that, failing success, there is to be feared punishment from without, and with success, punishment from within; while exemption in case either of success or non-success falls only to the share of those who possess the virtue required. I.e. those to whom the issue, as regards their own reward or punishment, is a matter of the completest indifference. The term virtue, here as elsewhere unless specially notified, should be understood in the sense of exemplification of TAO.

"Well, I am not dainty with my food; neither am I always wanting to cool myself when hot. However, this morning I received my orders, and this evening I have been drinking iced water. I am so hot inside. Before I have put my hand to the business I am suffering punishment from within; and if I do not succeed I am sure to suffer punishment from without. Thus I get both punishments, which is really more than I can bear. Kindly tell me what there is to be done." "There exist two sources of safety," Confucius replied. "One is Destiny: the other is Duty. A child's love for its parents is destiny. It is inseparable from the child's life. A subject's allegiance to his sovereign is duty. Beneath the canopy of heaven there is no place to which he can escape from it. These two sources of safety may be explained as follows. To serve one's parents without reference to place but only to the service, is the acme of filial piety. To serve one's prince without reference to the act but only to the service, is the perfection of a subject's loyalty. To serve one's own heart so as to permit neither joy nor sorrow within, but to cultivate resignation to the inevitable, - this is the climax of Virtue.

"Now a minister often finds himself in circumstances over which he has no control. But if he simply confines himself to his work, and is utterly oblivious of self, what leisure has he for loving life or hating death? And so you may safely go. "But I have yet more to tell you. All intercourse, if personal, should be characterised by sincerity. If from a distance, it should be carried on in loyal terms. These terms will have to be transmitted by some one. Now the transmission of messages of good- or ill-will is the hardest thing possible. Messages of good-will are sure to be overdone with fine phrases; messages of ill-will with harsh ones. In each case the result is exaggeration, and a consequent failure to carry conviction, for which the envoy suffers. Therefore it was said in the Fa-yen, Name of an ancient book. 'Confine yourself to simple statements of fact, shorn of all superfluous expression of feeling, and your risk will be small.'

"In trials of skill, at first all is friendliness; but at last it is all antagonism. Skill is pushed too far. So on festive occasions, the drinking which is in the beginning orderly enough, degenerates into riot and disorder. Festivity is pushed too far. It is in fact the same with all things: they begin with good faith and end with contempt. From small beginnings come great endings. "Speech is like wind to wave. Action is liable to divergence from its true goal. By wind, waves are easily excited. Divergence from the true goal is fraught with danger. Thus angry feelings rise up without a cause. Specious words and dishonest arguments follow, as the wild random cries of an animal at the point of death. Both sides give way to passion. For where one party drives the other too much into a corner, resistance will always be provoked without apparent cause. And if the cause is not apparent, how much less will the ultimate effect be so? "Therefore it is said in the Fa-yen, 'Neither deviate from nor travel beyond your instructions. "Travel beyond your instructions," is literally, "urge a settlement." To pass the limit is to go to excess.'

Plain English · paraphraseIn contests of skill, at first everything is friendly; but in the end, it's all hostility. Skill is taken too far. So at festive events, the drinking that starts out orderly turns into chaos and disorder. Celebration is taken too far. In fact, this is true of everything: they start with sincerity and end with contempt. From small beginnings come great endings. Speech is like wind to waves. Action is likely to stray from its true aim. Wind easily excites waves. Straying from the true aim brings danger. Thus, angry feelings arise without cause. Flattering words and dishonest arguments follow, like the wild, random cries of an animal at the moment of death. Both sides give in to passion. For when one side pushes the other too hard into a corner, resistance will always be provoked without obvious reason. And if the reason isn't obvious, how much less will the final result be? Therefore it is said in the _Fa-yen_, "Neither deviate from nor travel beyond your instructions." "Travel beyond your instructions," is literally, "urge a settlement." To pass the limit is to go to excess.

"To deviate from, or to travel beyond instructions, may imperil the negotiation. A settlement to be successful must be lasting. It is too late to change an evil settlement once made. "Therefore let yourself be carried along without fear, taking refuge in no alternative to preserve you from harm on either side. This is the utmost you can do. What need for considering your obligations? Better leave all to Destiny, difficult as this may be." It is passing strange that this exposition of the laissez-aller inaction doctrine of TAO should be placed in the mouth of Confucius, who is thus made in some measure to discredit his own teachings. The commentators, however, see nothing anomalous in the position here assigned to the Sage. Yen Ho A philosopher from the Lu State. was about to become tutor to the eldest son of Prince Ling of the Wei State. Accordingly he observed to Chü Poh Yü, Prime Minister of the Wei State.

Plain English · paraphraseTo go beyond or change the instructions could risk the negotiation. A successful agreement must last. It is too late to fix a bad agreement once it is made. "So let yourself go without fear, without any alternative to protect you from harm on either side. This is the most you can do. Why worry about your duties? Better to leave everything to Fate, hard as that may be." It is very strange that this explanation of the _laissez-aller_ idea of inaction from the TAO should be put into the mouth of Confucius, who in this way seems to contradict his own teachings. The commentators, however, see nothing strange in the position given to the Sage here. Yen Ho, a philosopher from the Lu State, was about to become a tutor to the eldest son of Prince Ling of the Wei State. So he said to Chü Poh Yü, Prime Minister of the Wei State.

"Here is a man whose disposition is naturally of a low order. To let him take his own unprincipled way is to endanger the State. To try to restrain him is to endanger one's personal safety. He has just wit enough to see faults in others, but not to see his own. I am consequently at a loss what to do." "A good question indeed," replied Chü Poh Yü, "You must be careful, and begin by self-reformation. Outwardly you may adapt yourself, but inwardly you must keep up to your own standard. In this there are two points to be guarded against. You must not let the outward adaptation penetrate within, nor the inward standard manifest itself without. In the former case, you will fall, you will be obliterated, you will collapse, you will lie prostrate. In the latter case, you will be a sound, a name, a bogie, an uncanny thing. If he would play the child, do you play the child too. If he cast aside all sense of decorum, do you do so too. As far as he goes, do you go also. Thus you will reach him without offending him.

Plain English · paraphraseHere is a man whose nature is of a low order. If you let him follow his own unprincipled path, it will endanger the state. If you try to restrain him, it will endanger your own safety. He has just enough intelligence to see faults in others, but not enough to see his own. I am therefore at a loss about what to do. "A good question indeed," replied Chü Poh Yü. "You must be careful and begin with self-reformation. Outwardly, you may adapt yourself, but inwardly you must hold to your own standard. In this, there are two things to guard against. You must not let the outward adaptation affect your inner self, nor let your inner standard show itself outwardly. In the first case, you will fall, you will be destroyed, you will collapse, you will lie prostrate. In the second case, you will be a sound, a name, a bogey, an unnatural thing. If he wants to act like a child, then act like a child too. If he throws away all sense of decorum, then do so too. Go as far as he does. In this way, you will reach him without offending him."

"Don't you know the story of the praying mantis? In its rage it stretched out its arms to prevent a chariot from passing, unaware that this was beyond its strength, so admirable was its energy! Be cautious. If you are always offending others by your superiority, you will probably come to grief. "Do you not know that those who keep tigers do not venture to give them live animals as food, for fear of exciting their fury when killing the prey? Also, that whole animals are not given, for fear of exciting the tigers' fury when rending them? The periods of hunger and repletion are carefully watched in order to prevent such outbursts. The tiger is of a different species from man; but the latter too is manageable if properly managed, unmanageable if excited to fury. "Those who are fond of horses surround them with various conveniences. Sometimes mosquitoes or flies trouble them; and then, unexpectedly to the animal, a groom will brush them off, the result being that the horse breaks his bridle, and hurts his head and chest. The intention is good, but there is a want of real care for the horse. Against this you must be on your guard."

Plain English · paraphraseDo you not know the story of the praying mantis? In its anger, it stretched out its arms to stop a chariot from passing, not knowing that this was beyond its strength. Its energy was admirable! Be careful. If you always offend others by showing your superiority, you will likely bring trouble on yourself. Do you not know that those who keep tigers do not dare give them live animals as food, for fear of provoking their rage when they kill their prey? Also, whole animals are not given, for fear of provoking the tigers' rage when they tear them apart. The times of hunger and fullness are carefully watched to avoid such outbursts. The tiger is a different kind from man; but man is also manageable if properly handled, and unmanageable if driven to fury. Those who love horses surround them with many comforts. Sometimes mosquitoes or flies bother them; then, without warning to the horse, a groom brushes them away, and the horse breaks its bridle and hurts its head and chest. The intention is good, but there is a lack of true care for the horse. Against this, you must be on your guard.

A certain artisan was travelling to the Ch'i State. On reaching Ch'ü-yüan, he saw a sacred li tree, A worthless species of oak. large enough to hide an ox behind it, a hundred spans in girth, towering up ten cubits over the hill top, and carrying behind it branches, many tens of the smallest of which were of a size for boats. Crowds stood gazing at it, but our artisan took no notice, and went on his way without even casting a look behind. His apprentice however gazed his fill, and when he caught up his master, said, "Ever since I have handled an adze in your service, I have never seen such a splendid piece of timber as that. How was it that you, sir, did not care to stop and look at it?" "It's not worth talking about," replied his master. "It's good for nothing. Make a boat of it, - 'twould sink. A coffin, - 'twould rot. Furniture, - 'twould soon break down. A door, - 'twould sweat. A pillar, - 'twould be worm-eaten. It is wood of no quality, and of no use. That is why it has attained its present age."

Plain English · paraphraseAn artisan was traveling to the Ch'i State. When he arrived at Ch'ü-yüan, he saw a sacred _li_ tree, a useless kind of oak. It was large enough to hide an ox behind, with a girth of a hundred spans, towering ten cubits above the hilltop, and its branches behind it were many, dozens of which were thick enough for boats. Crowds stood looking at it, but the artisan paid no attention and kept walking without even glancing back. His apprentice, however, gazed at it as long as he wanted, and when he caught up with his master, he said, "Since I began working with you and using an adze, I have never seen such a fine piece of timber. Why didn’t you, sir, stop to look at it?" "There’s no need to talk about it," the master replied. "It is good for nothing. Make a boat from it, and it would sink. Make a coffin, and it would rot. Make furniture, and it would break quickly. Make a door, and it would sweat. Make a pillar, and it would be eaten by worms. It is wood of no quality and no use. That is why it has lived so long."

When the artisan reached home, he dreamt that the tree appeared to him in a dream and spoke as follows: - "What is it that you compare me with? Is it with the more elegant trees? - The cherry-apple, the pear, the orange, the pumelo, and other fruit-bearers, as soon as their fruit ripens are stripped and treated with indignity. The great boughs are snapped off, the small ones scattered abroad. Thus do these trees by their own value injure their own lives. They cannot fulfil their allotted span of years, but perish prematurely in mid-career from their entanglement with the world around them. Thus it is with all things. For a long period my aim was to be useless. Many times I was in danger, but at length I succeeded, and so became useful as I am to-day. But had I then been of use, I should not now be of the great use I am. Moreover, you and I belong both to the same category of things. Have done then with this criticism of others. Is a good-for-nothing fellow whose dangers are not yet passed a fit person to talk of a good-for-nothing tree?" When our artisan awaked and told his dream, his apprentice said, "If the tree aimed at uselessness, how was it that it became a sacred tree?"

Which of course may be said to be of use. "What you don't understand," replied his master, "don't talk about. That was merely to escape from the attacks of its enemies. Had it not become sacred, how many would have wanted to cut it down! The means of safety adopted were different from ordinary means, In order to reach the somewhat extraordinary goal of uselessness. and to test these by ordinary canons leaves one far wide of the mark." Tzŭ Ch'i of Nan-poh Said to be identical with the individual mentioned at the beginning of ch. ii. was travelling on the Shang mountain when he saw a large tree which astonished him very much. A thousand chariot teams could have found shelter under its shade. "What tree is this?" cried Tzŭ Ch'i. "Surely it must have unusually fine timber." Then looking up, he saw that its branches were too crooked for rafters; while as to the trunk he saw that its irregular grain made it valueless for coffins. He tasted a leaf, but it took the skin off his lips; and its odour was so strong that it would make a man as it were drunk for three days together.

"Ah!" said Tzŭ Ch'i. "This tree is good for nothing, and that is how it has attained this size. A wise man might well follow its example." And so escape danger from his surroundings. In the State of Sung there is a place called Ching-shih, where thrive the beech, the cedar, and the mulberry. Such as are of a one-handed span or so in girth are cut down for monkey-cages. Those of two or three two-handed spans are cut down for the beams of fine houses. Those of seven or eight such spans are cut down for the solid sides of rich men's coffins. To this day, the very best kinds of wood are still reserved for the "planks of old age." Thus they do not fulfil their allotted span of years, but perish in mid-career beneath the axe. Such is the misfortune which overtakes worth. For the sacrifices to the River God, neither bulls with white cheeks, nor pigs with large snouts, nor men suffering from piles, were allowed to be used. This had been revealed to the soothsayers, and these characteristics were consequently regarded as inauspicious. The wise, however, would regard them as extremely auspicious. Readers of Don Juan will recollect how the master's mate had reason to share his view.

There was a hunchback named Su. His jaws touched his navel. His shoulders were higher than his head. His hair knot looked up to the sky. His viscera were upside down. His buttocks were where his ribs should have been. By tailoring, or washing, he was easily able to earn his living. By sifting rice he could make enough to support a family of ten. In all of which occupations a man would necessarily stoop. When orders came down for a conscription, the hunchback stood unconcerned among the crowd. And similarly, in matters of public works, his deformity shielded him from being employed. On the other hand, when it came to donations of grain, the hunchback received as much as three chung, An ancient measure of uncertain capacity. and of firewood, ten faggots. And if physical deformity was thus enough to preserve his body until its allotted end, how much more would not moral and mental deformity avail! A moral and mental deviation would be still more likely to condemn a man to that neglect from his fellows which is so conducive to our real welfare. When Confucius was in the Ch'u State, the eccentric Chieh Yü passed his door, saying, "O phœnix, O phœnix, how has thy virtue fallen! - By thus issuing forth out of due season.

unable to wait for the coming years or to go back into the past. When you might be, or might have been, of use. The idea conveyed is that Confucianism was unsuited to its age. See Lun-yü, ch. xviii. If TAO prevails on earth, prophets will fulfil their mission. If TAO does not prevail, they will but preserve themselves. At the present day they will but just escape. "The honours of this world are light as feathers, yet none estimate them at their true value. The misfortunes of this life are weighty as the earth itself, yet none can keep out of their reach. No more, no more, seek to influence by virtue. Beware, beware, move cautiously on! O ferns, O ferns, wound not my steps! Through my tortuous journey wound not my feet! Hills suffer from the trees they produce. Fat burns by its own combustibility. Cinnamon trees furnish food: therefore they are cut down. The lacquer tree is felled for use. All men know the use of useful things; but they do not know the use of useless things."

THE EVIDENCE OF VIRTUE COMPLETE. Argument: - Correspondence between inward virtue and outward influence - The virtuous man disregards externals - The possession of virtue causes oblivion of outward form - Neglect of the human - Cultivation of the divine. In the State of Lu there was a man, named Wang T'ai, who had had his toes cut off. His disciples were as numerous as those of Confucius. Ch'ang Chi One of the latter. asked Confucius, saying, "This Wang T'ai has been mutilated, yet he divides with you, Sir, the teaching of the Lu State. He neither preaches nor discusses; yet those who go to him empty, depart full. He must teach the doctrine which does not find expression in words; The doctrine of TAO. These words occur in chs. ii and xliii of the Tao-Tê-Ching. See The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 7. and although his shape is imperfect, his mind is perhaps complete. What manner of man is this?" "He is a prophet," replied Confucius, "whose instruction I have been late in seeking. I will go and learn from him. And if I, - why not those who are not equal to me? And I will take with me, not the State of Lu only, but the whole world."

"The fellow has been mutilated," said Ch'ang Chi, "and yet people call him Master. He must be very different from the ordinary run. But how does he use his mind in this sense?" "Life and Death are all powerful," answered Confucius, "but they cannot affect it. The mind, or soul, which is immortal. See ch. iii. Heaven and earth may collapse, but that will remain. If this is found to be without flaw, it will not share the fate of all things. It can cause other things to change, while preserving its own constitution intact." "How so?" asked Ch'ang Chi. "From the point of view of difference," replied Confucius, "we distinguish between the liver and the gall, between the Ch'u State and the Yüeh State. From the point of view of sameness, all things are ONE. Such is the position of Wang T'ai. He does not trouble about what reaches him through the senses of hearing and sight, but directs his whole mind towards the very climax of virtue. He beholds all things as though ONE, without observing their discrepancies. And thus the discrepancy of his toes is to him as would be the loss of so much mud."

"He devotes himself in fact to himself," said Ch'ang Chi, "and uses his wisdom to perfect his mind, until it becomes perfect. But how then is it that people make so much of him?" His virtue being wholly, as it were, of a selfish order. "A man," replied Confucius, "does not seek to see himself in running water, but in still water. For only what is itself still can instil stillness into others. "The grace of earth has reached only to pines and cedars; - winter and summer alike they are green. The grace of God has reached to Yao and to Shun alone; - the first and foremost of all creation. Happily they were able to regulate their own lives and thus regulate the lives of all mankind.

Plain English · paraphrase"He devotes himself entirely to himself," said Ch'ang Chi, "and uses his wisdom to perfect his mind, until it becomes perfect. But why then do people praise him so much?" Because his virtue is entirely, as it were, selfish. "A man," replied Confucius, "does not look for his reflection in running water, but in still water. For only what is still can bring stillness to others. The grace of earth has reached only the pines and cedars; winter and summer alike they are green. The grace of God has reached only Yao and Shun; they are the first and greatest of all creation. Happily they were able to regulate their own lives and thus regulate the lives of all mankind."

"By nourishment of physical courage, the sense of fear may be so eliminated that a man will, single-handed, brave a whole army. And if such a result can be achieved in search of fame, how much more by one who extends his sway over heaven and earth and influences all things; and who, lodging within the confines of a body with its channels of sight and sound, brings his knowledge to know that all things are ONE, and that his soul endures for ever! Besides, he awaits his appointed hour, and men flock to him of their own accord. He makes no effort to attract them." That men thus gather around him is the outward sign or evidence of his inward virtue complete. Shên T'u Chia had had his toes cut off. Subsequently, he studied under Poh Hun Wu Jen at the same time as Tzŭ Ch'an of the Chêng State. The latter said to him, "When I leave first, do you remain awhile. When you leave first, I will remain behind."

Plain English · paraphraseBy building up physical courage, fear can be completely removed so that a man, alone, can face an entire army. And if such a result can be achieved in the pursuit of fame, how much more so by one who rules over heaven and earth and affects all things; and who, living within the limits of a body with its senses of sight and sound, knows that all things are ONE and that his soul lasts forever! Also, he waits for his time, and people come to him on their own. He does not try to draw them in. The fact that people gather around him is the clear sign that his inner virtue is complete. Shen Tu Jia had his toes cut off. Later, he studied under Bo Hun Wu Ren at the same time as Zi Chan of the Cheng State. The latter said to him, "When I leave first, you stay a while. When you leave first, I will stay behind."

Tzŭ Ch'an was a model minister of the sixth century B.C. Under his guidance the people of the Chêng State became so virtuous that doors were not locked at night, nor would any one pick up lost articles left lying in the road. He was hardly likely to be ashamed of walking out with a mutilated criminal. Next day, when they were again together in the lecture-room, Tzŭ Ch'an said, "When I leave first, do you remain awhile. When you leave first, I will remain. I am now about to go. Will you remain or not? I notice you show no respect to a Minister of State. Perhaps you think yourself my equal?" "Dear me!" replied Shên T'u Chia, "I didn't know we had a Minister of State in the class. Perhaps you think that because you are one you should take precedence over the rest. Now I have heard that if a mirror is perfectly bright, dust and dirt will not collect on it. That if they do, it is because the mirror was not bright. He who associates for long with the wise will be without fault. Now you have been improving yourself at the feet of our Master, yet you can utter words like these. Is not the fault in you?"

"You are a fine fellow, certainly," retorted Tzŭ Ch'an, "you will be emulating the virtue of Yao next. To look at you, I should say you had enough to do to attend to your own shortcomings!" A sneer at his want of toes. "Those who disguise their faults," said Shên T'u Chia, "so as not to lose their toes, are many in number. Those who do not disguise their faults, and so fail to keep them, are few. To recognise the inevitable and to quietly acquiesce in Destiny, is the achievement of the virtuous man alone. He who should put himself in front of the bull's-eye when Hou I A Chinese Tell. was shooting, would be hit. If he was not hit, it would be destiny. Those with toes who laugh at me for having no toes are many. This used to make me angry. But since I have studied under our Master, I have ceased to trouble about it. It may be that our Master has so far succeeded in purifying me. At any rate I have been with him nineteen years without being aware of the loss of my toes. Now you and I are engaged in studying the internal. Do you not then commit a fault by thus dragging me back to the external?"

Plain English · paraphrase"You are a fine fellow, certainly," Tzŭ Ch'an replied, "you'll be emulating the virtue of Yao next. From the way you look, I'd say you have enough to do just taking care of your own shortcomings!" He sneered at his lack of toes. "Many people disguise their faults," said Shên T'u Chia, "just so they don't lose their toes. Those who don't hide their faults and so lose their toes are few. To recognize what cannot be changed and quietly accept Destiny is the mark of the truly virtuous man alone. If someone stood in front of the bull's-eye when Hou I was shooting, he would be hit. If he wasn't hit, it would be because of destiny. Many people with all their toes laugh at me for having none. This used to make me angry. But since I've studied under our Master, I no longer trouble myself about it. Perhaps our Master has succeeded in purifying me. At any rate, I've been with him for nineteen years without even noticing the loss of my toes. Now you and I are both studying the internal. Don't you then commit a fault by dragging me back to the external?"

At this Tzŭ Ch'an began to fidget, and changing countenance, begged Shên T'u Chia to say no more. There was a man of the Lu State who had been mutilated, - Shu Shan No-toes. He came walking on his heels to see Confucius; but Confucius said, "You did not take care, and so brought this misfortune upon yourself. What is the use of coming to me now?" "In my ignorance," replied No-toes, "I made free with my body and lost my toes. But I come with something more precious than toes which I now seek to keep. There is no man, but Heaven covers him: there is no man, but Earth supports him; - and I thought that you, sir, would be as Heaven and Earth. I little expected to hear these words from you." "I must apologise," said Confucius. "Pray walk in and let us discuss." But No-toes walked out. "There!" said Confucius to his disciples. "There is a criminal without toes who seeks to learn in order to make atonement for his previous misdeeds. And if he, how much more those who have no misdeeds for which to atone?"

No-toes went off to Lao Tzŭ and said, "Is Confucius a sage, or is he not? How is it he has so many disciples? He aims at being a subtle dialectician, not knowing that such a reputation is regarded by real sages as the fetters of a criminal." "Why do you not meet him with the continuity of life and death, the identity of can and can not," answered Lao Tzŭ, "and so release him from these fetters?" "He has been thus punished by God," replied No-toes. "It would be impossible to release him." A sneer at Confucius. No-toes himself had only been punished by man. Duke Ai of the Lu State said to Confucius, "In the Wei State there is a leper, named Ai T'ai T'o. The men who live with him like him and make no effort to get rid of him. Of the women who have seen him, many have said to their parents, Rather than be another man's wife, I would be his concubine.

"He never preaches at people, but puts himself into sympathy with them. He wields no power by which he may protect men's bodies. He has at his disposal no appointments by which to gratify their hearts. He is loathsome to a degree. He sympathises, but does not instruct. His knowledge is limited to his own State. Yet males and females alike all congregate around him. "So thinking that he must be different from ordinary men, I sent for him, and saw that he was indeed loathsome to a degree. Yet we had not been many months together ere my attention was fixed upon his conduct. A year had not elapsed ere I trusted him thoroughly; and as my State wanted a Prime Minister, I offered the post to him. He accepted it sullenly, as if he would much rather have declined. Perhaps he didn't think me good enough for him! At any rate, he took it; but in a very short time he left me and went away. I grieved for him as for a lost friend, and as though there were none left with whom I could rejoice. What manner of man is this?

Plain English · paraphraseHe never preaches at people, but puts himself into sympathy with them. He has no power to protect their bodies. He has no appointments to please their hearts. He is very unpleasant. He sympathizes, but does not teach. His knowledge is limited to his own state. Yet men and women all gather around him. "I thought he must be different from ordinary men, so I sent for him, and saw that he was indeed very unpleasant. Yet we had not been together for many months before my attention was drawn to his behavior. A year had not passed before I trusted him completely; and since my state needed a Prime Minister, I offered the position to him. He accepted it sullenly, as if he would rather have refused. Perhaps he didn't think me good enough for him! At any rate, he took it; but in a very short time he left me and went away. I grieved for him as for a lost friend, and as though there were none left with whom I could rejoice. What kind of man is this?

"When I was on a mission to the Ch'u State," replied Confucius, "I saw a litter of young pigs sucking their dead mother. After a while they looked at her, and then they all left the body and went off. For their mother did not look at them any more, nor did she any more seem to be of their kind. What they loved was their mother; not the body which contained her, but that which made the body what it was. "When a man is killed in battle, his arms are not buried with him. He has no further use for weapons. A man whose toes have been cut off does not value a present of boots. In each case the function of such things is gone. "The concubines of the Son of Heaven do not cut their nails or pierce their ears. For fear of injuring their persons. He who has a marriageable daughter keeps her away from menial work. To preserve her beauty is quite enough occupation for her. How much more so for a man of perfect virtue? Who should trouble himself only about the internal.

"Now Ai T'ai T'o says nothing, and is trusted. He does nothing, and is sought after. He causes a man to offer him the government of his own State, and the only fear is lest he should decline. Truly his talents are perfect and his virtue without outward form!" "What do you mean by his talents being perfect?" asked the Duke. "Life and Death," replied Confucius, "existence and non-existence, success and non-success, poverty and wealth, virtue and vice, good and evil report, hunger and thirst, warmth and cold, - these all revolve upon the changing wheel of Destiny. Day and night they follow one upon the other, and no man can say where each one begins. Therefore they cannot be allowed to disturb the harmony of the organism, nor enter into the soul's domain. Swim however with the tide, so as not to offend others. Do this day by day without break, and live in peace with mankind. Thus you will be ready for all contingencies, and may be said to have your talents perfect." "And virtue without outward form; what is that?"

"In a water-level," said Confucius, "the water is in a most perfect state of repose. Let that be your model. The water remains quietly within, and does not overflow. It is from the cultivation of such harmony that virtue results. And if virtue takes no outward form, man will not be able to keep aloof from it." Mankind will be regenerated thereby, in the same way that evenness is imparted by the aid of water to surfaces, although the water is all the time closed up and does not overflow. Some days afterwards Duke Ai told Min Tzŭ, One of Confucius' disciples. saying, "When first I took the reins of government in hand, I thought that in caring for my people's lives I had done all my duty as a ruler. But now that I have heard what a perfect man is, I fear that I have not been succeeding, but foolishly using my body and working destruction to my State. Confucius and I are not prince and minister, but merely friends with a care for each other's moral welfare."

Plain English · paraphrase"In a water-level," said Confucius, "the water is in a perfect state of stillness. Let that be your model. The water stays quiet inside and does not spill over. It is from cultivating such harmony that virtue comes. And if virtue does not show itself outwardly, people will not be able to stay away from it." People will be renewed this way, just as smoothness is given to surfaces with the help of water, even though the water is always contained and does not overflow. Some days later, Duke Ai told Min Tzŭ, one of Confucius' disciples, saying, "When I first took control of government, I thought that by caring for my people's lives I had done all my duty as a ruler. But now that I have heard what a perfect man is, I fear I have not succeeded, but have been foolishly using my body and causing harm to my state. Confucius and I are not prince and minister, but only friends who care about each other's moral well-being."

A certain hunchback, named Wu Ch'un, whose heels did not touch the ground, had the ear of Duke Ling of Wei. The Duke took a great fancy to him; and as for well-formed men, he thought their necks were too short. Another man, with a goitre as big as a large jar, had the ear of Duke Huan of Ch'i. The Duke took a great fancy to him; and as for well-formed men, he thought their necks were too thin.

Thus it is that virtue should prevail and outward form be forgotten. But mankind forgets not that which is to be forgotten, forgetting that which is not to be forgotten. This is forgetfulness indeed! And thus with the truly wise, wisdom is a curse, sincerity like glue, virtue only a means to acquire, and skill nothing more than a commercial capacity. For the truly wise make no plans, and therefore require no wisdom. They do not separate, and therefore require no glue. They want nothing, and therefore need no virtue. They sell nothing, and therefore are not in want of a commercial capacity. These four qualifications are bestowed upon them by God and serve as heavenly food to them. And those who thus feed upon the divine have little need for the human. They wear the forms of men, without human passions. Because they wear the forms of men, they associate with men. Because they have not human passions, positives and negatives find in them no place. Infinitesimal indeed is that which makes them man: infinitely great is that which makes them divine! Hui Tzŭ said to Chuang Tzŭ, "Are there then men who have no passions?" Chuang Tzŭ replied, "Certainly." "But if a man has no passions," argued Hui Tzŭ, "what is it that makes him a man?"

"TAO," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "gives him his expression, and God gives him his form. How should he not be a man?" "If then he is a man," said Hui Tzŭ, "how can he be without passions?" "What you mean by passions," answered Chuang Tzŭ, "is not what I mean. By a man without passions I mean one who does not permit good and evil to disturb his internal economy, but rather falls in with whatever happens, as a matter of course, and does not add to the sum of his mortality." The play of passion would tend to create conditions which otherwise would not exist. "But whence is man to get his body," asked Hui Tzŭ, "if there is to be no adding to the sum of mortality?" This is of course a gibe. Hui Tzŭ purposely takes Chuang Tzŭ's words à double entente. "TAO gives him his expression," said Chuang Tzŭ, "and God gives him his form. He does not permit good and evil to disturb his internal economy. But now you are devoting your intelligence to externals, and wearing out your mental powers. You prop yourself against a tree and mutter, or lean over a table with half-closed eyes. God has made you a shapely sight, Yet your only thought is the hard and white."

Chang Tzŭ puts his last sentence into doggerel, the more effectively to turn the tables against Hui Tzŭ, whose paradoxical theories he is never tired of ridiculing. See ch. ii.

Plain English · paraphraseChang Tzu ends his point in a rhyming couplet, to better outwit Hui Tzu. He never stops mocking Hui Tzu's strange ideas. See chapter two.

THE GREAT SUPREME. Argument: - The human and the divine - The pure men of old - Their qualifications - Their self-abstraction - All things as ONE - The known and the unknown - Life a boon - Death a transition - Life eternal open to all - The way thither - Illustrations. He who knows what God is, and who knows what Man is, has attained. Knowing what God is, he knows that he himself proceeded therefrom. Knowing what Man is, he rests in the knowledge of the known, waiting for the knowledge of the unknown. Working out one's allotted span, and not perishing in mid career, - this is the fulness of knowledge. God is a principle which exists by virtue of its own intrinsicality, and operates spontaneously, without self-manifestation. It is in the human that the divine finds expression. Man emanates from God, and should therefore be on earth, in this brief life of ours, what God is for all eternity in the universe. Herein, however, there is a flaw. Knowledge is dependent upon fulfilment. And as this fulfilment is uncertain, how can it be known that my divine is not really human, my human really divine? Not until death lifts the veil can we truly know that this life is bounded at each end by an immortality to which the soul finally reverts. "Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state."

We must have pure men, and then only can we have pure knowledge. "Pure" must be understood in the sense of transcendent. But what is a pure man? - The pure men of old acted without calculation, not seeking to secure results. They laid no plans. Therefore, failing, they had no cause for regret; succeeding, no cause for congratulation. And thus they could scale heights without fear; enter water without becoming wet; fire, without feeling hot. So far had their wisdom advanced towards TAO. "The world-spirit is a good swimmer, and storms and waves cannot drown him." - Emerson. The pure men of old slept without dreams, and waked without anxiety. They ate without discrimination, breathing deep breaths. For pure men draw breath from their uttermost depths; the vulgar only from their throats. "Uttermost depths" is literally "heels," but all the best commentators take the sentence to mean that pure men breathe with their whole being, and not as it were superficially, from the throat only. This passage is probably responsible for the trick of taking deep inhalations of morning air, practised (not without scientific foundation) by the followers of the debased Taoism of modern times. Other tricks for prolonging life, such as swallowing the saliva three times in every two hours, etc., are more open to adverse criticism. See the T'ai-Hsi-Ching.

Out of the crooked, words are retched up like vomit. If men's passions are deep, their divinity is shallow. The pure men of old did not know what it was to love life or to hate death. They did not rejoice in birth, nor strive to put off dissolution. Quickly come, and quickly go; - no more. They did not forget whence it was they had sprung, neither did they seek to hasten their return thither. Cheerfully they played their allotted parts, waiting patiently for the end. This is what is called not to lead the heart astray from TAO, By admitting play of passion in the sense condemned in ch. v. which would hinder the mind from resting quietly in the knowledge of the known. nor to let the human seek to supplement the divine. But to wait patiently for the knowledge of the unknown. And this is what is meant by a pure man. Such men are in mind absolutely free; in demeanour, grave; in expression, cheerful. If it is freezing cold, it seems to them like autumn; if blazing hot, like spring. Their passions occur like the four seasons. Each at its appointed time. They are in harmony with all creation, and none know the limit thereof.

These last few words occur in the Tao-Tê-Ching, ch. lviii. See The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 40. Also, with a variation, in ch. xxii of this work. And so it is that a perfect man can destroy a kingdom and yet not lose the hearts of the people, while the benefits he hands down to ten thousand generations do not proceed from love of his fellow-man. Whatever he does is spontaneous, and therefore natural, and therefore in accordance with right. He who delights in man, is himself not a perfect man. His affection is not true charity. Charity is the universal love of all creation which admits of no particular manifestations. Depending upon opportunity, he has not true worth. True worth is independent of circumstances. It is a quality which is always unconsciously operating for good, and needs no opportunity to call it into existence. He who is not conversant with both good and evil is not a superior man. The good, to practise; the evil, to avoid. He who disregards his reputation is not what a man should be. As a mere social unit. He who is not absolutely oblivious of his own existence can never be a ruler of men.

Thus Hu Pu Hsieh, Wu Kuang, Poh I, Shu Ch'i, Chi Tzŭ Hsü Yü, Chi T'o, and Shên T'u Ti, were the servants of rulers, and did the behests of others, not their own. A list of ancient worthies whose careers had been more or less unsuccessful. Of the first and second little is known, except that the ears of the latter were seven inches long. The third and fourth were brothers and are types of moral purity. Each refused the throne of their State, because each considered his brother more entitled thereto. Finally, they died of starvation on the mountains rather than submit to a change of the Imperial dynasty. More will be heard of these two later on. The fifth smeared his body all over with lacquer, so that no one should come near him. Of the sixth, nothing is recorded; and of the seventh, only that he tied a stone around his neck and jumped into a river. See the Fragmenta at the end of the works of Shih Tzŭ. The pure men of old did their duty to their neighbours, but did not associate with them. Among them, but not of them.

They behaved as though wanting in themselves, but without flattering others. Naturally rectangular, they were not uncompromisingly hard. They manifested their independence without going to extremes. They appeared to smile as if pleased, when the expression was only a natural response. As required by the exigencies of society. Their outward semblance derived its fascination from the store of goodness within. They seemed to be of the world around them, while proudly treading beyond its limits. They seemed to desire silence, while in truth they had dispensed with language. See ch. v. They saw in penal laws a trunk; A natural basis of government. in social ceremonies, wings; To aid man's progress through life. in wisdom, a useful accessory; in morality, a guide. For them penal laws meant a merciful administration; social ceremonies, a passport through the world; wisdom, an excuse for doing what they could not help; and morality, walking like others upon the path. Instead of at random across country. At such an early date was uniformity a characteristic of the Chinese people. And thus all men praised them for the worthy lives they led.

Plain English · paraphraseThey acted as if they lacked confidence in themselves, but did not flatter others. Their nature was square and firm, but not rigid. They showed their independence without going to extremes. They smiled as if happy, but the smile was just natural, not forced. As society required. Their charm came from the goodness inside. They seemed to belong to the world around them, yet walked proudly beyond its limits. They seemed to want silence, but in truth they had given up the need for words. See chapter five. They saw in laws and punishments a trunk, a natural base for government; in social customs, wings, to help people move through life; in wisdom, a helpful tool; in morality, a guide. For them, laws and punishments meant a kind administration; social customs, a way to get along in the world; wisdom, an excuse for doing what they couldn’t help doing; and morality, walking like others on the path, not wandering aimlessly. At that early time, uniformity was already a feature of the Chinese people. And so all people praised them for the good lives they lived.

For what they cared for could be reduced to ONE, and what they did not care for to ONE also. That which was ONE was ONE, and that which was not ONE was likewise ONE. In that which was ONE, they were of God; in that which was not ONE, they were of Man. And so between the human and the divine no conflict ensued. This was to be a pure man. Life and Death belong to Destiny. Their sequence, like day and night, is of God, beyond the interference of man, an inevitable law. A man looks upon God as upon his father, and loves him in like measure. Shall he then not love that which is greater than God? Sc. TAO. A man looks upon a ruler of men as upon some one better than himself, for whom he would sacrifice his life. Shall he not then do so for the Supreme Ruler of Creation? Sc. TAO, the omnipresent, omnipotent Principle which invests even God himself with the power and attributes of divinity. The careful student of pure Taoism will find however that the distinction between TAO and God is sometimes so subtle as altogether to elude his intelligence.

When the pond dries up, and the fishes are left upon dry ground, to moisten them with the breath or to damp them with spittle is not to be compared with leaving them in the first instance in their native rivers and lakes. And better than praising Yao and blaming Chieh would be leaving them both and attending to the development of TAO. TAO gives me this form, this toil in manhood, this repose in old age, this rest in death. And surely that which is such a kind arbiter of my life is the best arbiter of my death. A boat may be hidden in a creek, or in a bog, safe enough. The text has "or a mountain in a bog," which taken with the context seems to me to be nonsense. Yet all the commentators labour to explain away the difficulty, instead of making the obvious change of "mountain" into "boat," to which change the forms of the two Chinese characters readily lend themselves. In over two thousand years of literary activity, it seems but rarely to have occurred to the Chinese that a textus receptus could contain a copyist's slip.

Plain English · paraphraseWhen the pond dries up and the fish are left on dry ground, trying to moisten them with your breath or dampen them with spit is not as good as keeping them in their rivers and lakes in the first place. And better than praising Yao and blaming Chieh would be to leave them both behind and focus on the development of TAO. TAO gives me this form, this work in my youth, this rest in old age, this peace in death. And certainly, the one who is such a kind judge of my life is the best judge of my death. A boat may be hidden in a creek or in a bog, and be safe enough. The text says "or a mountain in a bog," which, in context, seems nonsense. Yet all the commentators try to explain away the problem instead of making the obvious change of "mountain" to "boat," which the forms of the two Chinese characters easily allow. In over two thousand years of literary activity, it seems to have occurred to the Chinese only rarely that a _textus receptus_ might contain a mistake made by a copyist.

But at midnight a strong man may come and carry away the boat on his back. The dull of vision do not perceive that however you conceal things, small ones in larger ones, there will always be a chance of losing them. The boat is figurative of our mortal coil which cannot be hidden from decay. But if you conceal the whole universe in the whole universe, there will be no place left wherein it may be lost. The laws of matter make this to be so. To have attained to the human form must be always a source of joy. And then, to undergo countless transitions, with only the infinite to look forward to, - what incomparable bliss is that! Therefore it is that the truly wise rejoice in that which can never be lost, but endures alway. The soul which as TAO, is commensurate only with time and space. For if we can accept early death, old age, a beginning, and an end, As inseparable from Destiny, - already a step in the right direction. why not that which informs all creation and is of all phenomena the Ultimate Cause?

The long chain of proximate causes reaches finality in TAO. Here we have the complete answer to such queries as that propounded to the Umbra by the Penumbra at the close of ch. ii. TAO has its laws, and its evidences. It is devoid both of action and of form. It may be transmitted, but cannot be received. So that the receiver can say he has it. It may be obtained, but cannot be seen. Before heaven and earth were, TAO was. It has existed without change from all time. Spiritual beings drew their spirituality therefrom, while the universe became what we can see it now. To TAO, the zenith is not high, nor the nadir low; no point in time is long ago, nor by lapse of ages has it grown old. To the infinite all terms and conditions are relative. Hsi Wei obtained TAO, and so set the universe in order. A legendary ruler of remote antiquity. In what sense he set the universe in order has not been authentically handed down. Fu Hsi obtained it, and was able to establish eternal principles. The first in the received list of Chinese sovereigns (B.C. 2852). This monarch is said to have invented the art of writing and to have taught his people to cook.

The Great Bear obtained it, and has never erred from its course. The sun and moon obtained it, and have never ceased to revolve. K'an P'i obtained it, and established the K'un-lun mountains. The divinity of the sacred mountains here mentioned. P'ing I obtained it, and rules over the streams. Chien Wu obtained it, and dwells on Mount T'ai. See ch. i. The Yellow Emperor obtained it, and soared upon the clouds to heaven. The most famous of China's legendary rulers (B.C. 2697). He is said among other things to have invented wheeled vehicles, and generally to have given a start to the civilisation of his people. Some of Lao Tzŭ's sayings have been attributed to him; and by some he has been regarded as the first promulgator of TAO. Chuan Hsü obtained it, and dwells in the Dark Palace. A legendary ruler (B.C. 2513), of whose Dark Palace nothing is known. Yü Ch'iang obtained it, and fixed himself at the North Pole. As its presiding genius. Hsi Wang Mu obtained it, and settled at Shao Kuang; since when, no one knows; until when, no one knows either. A lady, - or a place, for accounts vary, - around whose name innumerable legends have gathered. P'êng Tsu obtained it, and lived from the time of Shun until the time of the Five Princes.

From 2255 to the 7th century B.C. See ch. i. Fu Yüeh obtained it, and as the Minister of Wu Ting A monarch of the Yin dynasty, B.C. 1324. got the empire under his control. And now, charioted upon one constellation and drawn by another, he has been enrolled among the stars of heaven. Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei Probably the individual mentioned in chs. ii. and iv. said to Nü Yü, By one authority said to be a woman. "You are old, Sir, and yet your countenance is like that of a child. How is this?" Nü Yü replied, "I have learnt TAO." "Could I get TAO by studying it?" asked the other. "I fear not," said Nü Yü. "You are not the sort of man. There was Pu Liang I. He had all the qualifications of a sage, but not TAO. Now I had Tao, though none of the qualifications. But do you imagine that much as I wished it I was able to teach TAO to him so that he should be a perfect sage? Had it been so, then to teach TAO to one who has the qualifications of a sage would be an easy matter. No, Sir. I imparted as though withholding; and in three days, for him, this sublunary state had ceased to exist.

With all its paltry distinctions of sovereign and subject, high and low, good and bad, etc. When he had attained to this, I withheld again; and in seven days more, for him, the external world had ceased to be. And so again for another nine days, when he became unconscious of his own existence. He became first etherealised, next possessed of perfect wisdom, then without past or present, and finally able to enter there where life and death are no more, - where killing does not take away life, nor does prolongation of life add to the duration of existence. In TAO life and death are ONE. In that state, he is ever in accord with the exigencies of his environment; Literally, there is no sense in which he is not accompanying or meeting, destroying or constructing. That is, in spite of his spiritual condition as above described, he can still adapt himself naturally to life among his fellow-men. The retirement of a hermit is by no means necessary to the perfection of the pure man. and this is to be Battered but not Bruised. And he who can be thus battered but not bruised is on the way to perfection." "And how did you manage to get hold of all this?" asked Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei.

"I got it from books," replied Nü Yü; "and the books got it from learning, and learning from investigation, and investigation from cö-ordination, Of eye and mind. and cö-ordination from application, and application from desire to know, and desire to know from the unknown, and the unknown from the great void, and the great void from infinity!" Four men were conversing together, when the following resolution was suggested: - "Whosoever can make Inaction the head, Life the backbone, and Death the tail, of his existence, - that man shall be admitted to friendship with us." The four looked at each other and smiled; and tacitly accepting the conditions, became friends forthwith. By-and-by, one of them, named Tzŭ Yü, fell ill, and another, Tzŭ Ssŭ, went to see him. "Verily God is great!" said the sick man. "See how he has doubled me up. My back is so hunched that my viscera are at the top of my body. My cheeks are level with my navel. My shoulders are higher than my neck. My hair grows up towards the sky. The whole economy of my organism is deranged. Nevertheless, my mental equilibrium is not disturbed." So saying, he dragged himself painfully to a well, where he could see himself, and continued, "Alas, that God should have doubled me up like this!"

"Are you afraid?" asked Tzŭ Ssŭ. "I am not," replied Tzŭ Yü. "What have I to fear? Ere long I shall be decomposed. My left shoulder will become a cock, and I shall herald the approach of morn. My right shoulder will become a cross-bow, and I shall be able to get broiled duck. My buttocks will become wheels; and with my soul for a horse, I shall be able to ride in my own chariot. I obtained life because it was my time: I am now parting with it in accordance with the same law. Content with the natural sequence of these states, joy and sorrow touch me not. I am simply, as the ancients expressed it, hanging in the air, unable to cut myself down, bound with the trammels of material existence. But man has ever given way before God: why, then, should I be afraid?" "What comes from God to us, returns from us to God." - Plato.

By-and-by, another of the four, named Tzŭ Lai, fell ill, and lay gasping for breath, while his family stood weeping around. The fourth friend, Tzŭ Li, went to see him. "Chut!" cried he to the wife and children; "begone! you balk his decomposition." Then, leaning against the door, he said, "Verily, God is great! I wonder what he will make of you now. I wonder whither you will be sent. Do you think he will make you into a rat's liver The Chinese believe that a rat has no liver. or into the shoulders of a snake?" "A son," answered Tzŭ Lai, "must go whithersoever his parents bid him. Nature is no other than a man's parents. The term "Nature" stands here as a rendering of Yin and Yang, the Positive and Negative Principles of Chinese cosmogony, from whose interaction the visible universe results. If she bid me die quickly, and I demur, then I am an unfilial son. She can do me no wrong. TAO gives me this form, this toil in manhood, this repose in old age, this rest in death. And surely that which is such a kind arbiter of my life is the best arbiter of my death.

"Suppose that the boiling metal in a smelting-pot were to bubble up and say, 'Make of me an Excalibur;' I think the caster would reject that metal as uncanny. And if a sinner like myself were to say to God, 'Make of me a man, make of me a man;' I think he too would reject me as uncanny. The universe is the smelting-pot, and God is the caster. I shall go whithersoever I am sent, to wake unconscious of the past, as a man wakes from a dreamless sleep." Tzŭ Sang Hu, Mêng Tzŭ Fan, and Tzŭ Ch'in Chang, were conversing together, when it was asked, "Who can be, and yet not be? Implying the absence of all consciousness. Who can do, and yet not do? By virtue of inaction. Who can mount to heaven, and roaming through the clouds, pass beyond the limits of space, oblivious of existence, for ever and ever without end?" The three looked at each other and smiled; and as neither had any misgivings, they became friends accordingly. Shortly afterwards Tzŭ Sang Hu died; whereupon Confucius sent Tzŭ Kung One of his chief disciples. to take part in the mourning. But Tzŭ Kung found that one had composed a song which the other was accompanying on the lute,

Strictly speaking, a kind of zitha, played with two hammers. as follows: - Ah! Wilt thou come back to us, Sang Hu? Ah! Wilt thou come back to us, Sang Hu? Thou hast already returned to thy God, While we still remain here as men, - alas! Tzŭ Kung hurried in and said, "How can you sing alongside of a corpse? Is this decorum?" The two men looked at each other and laughed, saying, "What should this man know of decorum indeed?" Not the outward decorum of the body, but the inward decorum of the heart. Tzŭ Kung went back and told Confucius, asking him, "What manner of men are these? Their object is nothingness and a separation from their corporeal frames. Various commentators give various renderings of this sentence, - mostly forced. They can sit near a corpse and yet sing, unmoved. There is no class for such. What are they?"