Transcendent Joy

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.

In the northern ocean lives a fish called the Leviathan. It is many thousands of li in size. The Leviathan changes into a bird called the Rukh. The Rukh's back is many thousands of li across. With a mighty effort, the bird rises, and its wings cover 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.

At the equinox, this bird prepares to leave for the southern ocean, the Celestial Lake. The Record of Marvels tells what happens when the rukh flies south. It strikes the water for three thousand li around. Then it rides a typhoon to a height of ninety thousand li for a flight lasting six months.

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.¹

The same is true of the specks of dust in a sunbeam, blown upward by God. The sky may really be blue, or it may only look blue because the distance is endless. Either way, it would look the same to the bird looking down as it does to the specks of dust.¹

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.

If the water is not deep enough, it will not float large ships. Pour a cup of water into a small hole, and a mustard seed can serve as a boat. Try to float the cup, and it will stick, because there is too little water for the 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.

The same is true of air. If the air is not deep enough, it cannot support large birds. This bird needs a depth of ninety thousand li. Then, with nothing but clear sky above and no obstacles in its way, it sets out for 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?"

A cicada laughed and said to a young dove, "When I fly with all my might, I can barely get from one tree to another. Sometimes I do not make it and fall to the ground halfway there. So what is the point of going up ninety thousand li to set off for the south?"

He who goes to Mang-ts'ang,² 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.

Someone who goes to Mang-ts'ang,² taking three meals along, returns with a stomach as full as when they left. But someone traveling a hundred li must grind enough flour for an overnight stop. And someone traveling a thousand li must take enough provisions for three months. What can those two little creatures know? Small knowledge has no more scope than great knowledge 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.

How can we tell that this is so? A mushroom that lives for a morning does not know the cycle of day and night. A chrysalis does not know the cycle of spring and autumn. Their lives are short.

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 Tsu³ is still, alas! an object of envy to all.

But in the State of Ch'u, there is a tortoise whose spring and autumn each last five hundred years. In former days, there was a large tree whose spring and autumn each lasted eight thousand years. Yet, alas, everyone still envies P'êng Tsu³.

It was on this very subject that the Emperor T'ang⁴ 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,⁵ 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.

The Emperor T'ang⁴ spoke to Chi about this very subject: "In the barren north is a great sea called the Celestial Lake. In it lives a fish several thousand li wide. I do not know how long it is. It is called the Leviathan. There is also a bird called the Rukh. Its back is like Mount T'ai,⁵ and its wings are like clouds across the sky. It rides a typhoon up to a height of ninety thousand li. There, beyond the clouds and atmosphere, it has only the clear sky above it. Then it flies toward 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?"⁶

"A quail laughed and said: What could that creature be going to do? I rise only a few yards into the air. Then I fly around among the reeds and settle down again. That is the most I can manage. Now, where could this creature possibly be going?"⁶

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.⁷

Such is the difference between the small and the great. Consider a man who performs well in a minor office, or who is a model of virtue in his neighborhood. Or consider a man who persuades his prince to govern the state justly. His opinion of himself will be much like the quail’s. The philosopher Yung laughs at such a person. If the whole world praised Yung, he would not be affected. If the whole world blamed him, he would not lose faith in himself. For Yung can distinguish between what is within and what is outside himself, and between honor and shame. Such people are rare in their generation. But even Yung has not established himself.⁷

There was Lieh Tzŭ again.⁸

Then there was Lieh Tzŭ again.⁸

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.⁹

He could ride the wind wherever he wished and stay away for as long as fifteen days. Among mortals who find happiness, such a man is rare. Yet although Lieh Tzŭ did not have to walk, he still depended on something.⁹

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?¹⁰

But suppose he had ridden on the eternal harmony of Heaven and Earth, driving the elements like a team of horses. Suppose he had roamed through the realms of For-Ever. What, then, would he have had to depend on?¹⁰

Thus it has been said, "The perfect man ignores self; the divine man ignores action; the true Sage ignores reputation."¹¹

So it has been said, "The perfect man ignores self. The divine man ignores action. The true sage ignores reputation."¹¹

The Emperor Yao¹² wished to abdicate in favour of Hsü Yu,¹³ 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."

Emperor Yao¹² wanted to give up his throne to Hsü Yu,¹³ saying, "If you light a torch when the sun and moon are shining, isn't that a misuse of fire? If you water the ground at the height of the rainy season, isn't that a waste of effort? Now, sir, if you take charge of the government, the empire will be at peace. I am only a dead body, aware of my own shortcomings. I beg you to take 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."¹⁴

“Ever since you began governing, sire,” replied Hsü Yu, “the empire has been at peace. If I took your place now, would I gain any reputation? Besides, reputation is only the shadow of reality. Why should I concern myself with the shadow? A tit building its nest in a great forest uses only one twig. A tapir drinks from a river only enough to fill its belly. The reputation belongs to you, sire. The empire has no need for me. If a cook cannot prepare the funeral sacrifices, the boy impersonating the corpse may not step over the wine and meat to do it for him.”¹⁴

Chien Wu said to Lien Shu,¹⁵ "I heard Chieh Yü utter something unjustifiably extravagant and without either rhyme or reason.¹⁶

Chien Wu said to Lien Shu,¹⁵ "I heard Chieh Yü say something wildly extravagant and completely nonsensical.¹⁶

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."

I was startled by what he said. It seemed as boundless as the Milky Way, though very unlikely and far removed from human experience."

"What was it?" asked Lien Shu.

"What was it?" asked Lien Shu.

"He declared," replied Chien Wu, "that on the Miao-ku-shê mountain¹⁷ 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."

"He said," replied Chien Wu, "that a divine man lives on Miao-ku-shê mountain¹⁷. His skin is like ice or snow, and his manner is like a virgin's. He eats nothing grown from the earth but lives on air and dew. He rides on clouds, drawn by flying dragons, and roams beyond the limits of mortal life. This being does absolutely nothing. Yet he protects all things from decay and makes the crops thrive. I call that nonsense, and I don't 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!¹⁸

"Well," Lien Shu answered, "you don't ask a blind man what he thinks of a picture. And you don't invite a deaf man to a concert. Blindness and deafness are not just physical. The mind can also be blind and deaf, and I fear you suffer from both. That man's good influence fills all creation. Yet because a petty generation calls for reform, you would have him stoop to managing the details of an empire!¹⁸

"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!"¹⁹

"Things in the world cannot harm him. Even in a flood reaching the sky, he would not drown. In a drought, he would not feel hot, though metal melted and mountains burned. From his dust and scraps alone, you could make two men like Yao and Shun. And you would have him concern himself with things in the world!"¹⁹

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.²⁰

A man from the Sung State took some sacrificial caps to the Yüeh State to sell them. But the men of Yüeh cut their hair short and painted their bodies, so they had no use for the caps. And so, Emperor Yao visited the four sages of Miao-ku-shê mountain. He ruled all under heaven and had brought peace to all within the shores of the ocean. When he returned to his capital at Fên-yang, the empire no longer existed for him.²⁰

Hui Tzŭ²¹ 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."

Hui Tzŭ²¹ said to Chuang Tzŭ, "The Prince of Wei gave me a seed from a large kind of gourd. I planted it, and it produced a gourd as big as a five-bushel measure. If I had used it to hold liquids, it would have been too heavy to lift. If I had cut it in half to make ladles, they would not have worked well. The gourd was too large to be useful, 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.'

"Sir," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "you were the one who did not know how to use large things. There was a man in Sung who had a recipe for a salve for chapped hands. His family had washed silk for generations. A stranger heard about the recipe and offered him 100 oz. of silver for it. The man called his clansmen together and said, 'We have never made much money washing silk. 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.²²

"So the stranger obtained it and went to tell the Prince of Wu, who was then at war with the Yüeh State. The Prince used it in a naval battle against the Yüeh State at the beginning of winter. As a result, the Yüeh State was completely defeated.²²

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.

The stranger was given land and a title. In both cases, the salve was equally effective at healing chapped hands, but it was used differently. In one case, it secured a title. In the other, it made it possible to wash 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."²³

"What about your five-bushel gourd? Why didn't you make it into a boat and float around on rivers and lakes? Then you couldn't have complained that it wouldn't hold anything! But I'm afraid you're rather muddleheaded."²³

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."

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 for planks. Its branches are so twisted that they cannot be divided into any regular shapes. The tree stands by the roadside, but no carpenter will look at it. And your words, sir, are like that tree: big and useless, wanted by nobody."

"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.²⁴

"Sir," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "have you never seen a wild cat crouching in wait for its prey? It leaps from branch to branch, left and right, high and low. But perhaps it gets caught in a trap or dies in a snare. On the other hand, there is the yak with its huge body. It is certainly big enough, but it cannot catch mice.²⁴

"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,²⁵ whither you might betake yourself to inaction by its side, to blissful repose beneath its shade?²⁶

"If you have a big tree and don't know what to do with it, why not plant it in the domain of non-existence?²⁵ There you could do nothing beside it and rest blissfully in its shade.²⁶

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."²⁷

There it would be safe from the axe and all other injury. Because it was of no use to others, it would be free from harm."²⁷