Chapter 4
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.
Argument: People must adapt to their mortal surroundings. Their virtue should be passive, not active. They should be rather than do. Talents are a hindrance. But what seems useless in small ways can be greatly useful.
Yen Hui went to take leave of Confucius.
Yen Hui went to say goodbye to Confucius.
A student of the Sage, also known as Tzŭ Yüan.
"Whither are you bound?" asked the Master.
"Where are you going?" asked the Master.
"I am going to the State of Wei," was the reply.
"I am going to the State of Wei," came the reply.
"And what do you propose to do there?" continued Confucius.
"And what do you plan to do there?" Confucius continued.
"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.
"I hear," Yen Hui answered, "that the Prince of Wei is grown, but he is impossible to control. He acts as if the state does not matter and refuses to see his own faults. As a result, the people are dying, and their bodies lie scattered like undergrowth in a marsh. They are in desperate straits. And I have heard you say, sir, that if a state is well governed, we may leave it alone. But if a state is badly governed, we should visit it.
In the Lun Yü, Confucius says exactly the opposite.
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."
Medicine deals with many different diseases. I would like to test my knowledge in this way, so that perhaps I may do some good for 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.
"Oh no!" cried Confucius, "you will only bring harm upon yourself. For Tao must not be divided. If it is divided, it will lose its unity. If Tao loses its unity, it will become uncertain and 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.
"The sages of old first found Tao for themselves, and then helped others find it. Before you possess Tao yourself, how can you have time to concern yourself with the actions of wicked people? Besides, do you know what Virtue leads to and where Wisdom ends? Virtue leads to a desire for fame. Wisdom ends in conflict. In the struggle for fame, people crush one another, while their wisdom only provokes rivalry. Both are harmful tools and must not be used carelessly.
"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.
"Besides, some people preach charity and duty to one's neighbor to wicked men before influencing them through genuine virtue and unquestionable sincerity. They do so before reaching their hearts by showing that they care nothing for reputation or fame. Such people only make wicked men hate them for their very goodness. They are called evil speakers. And those who speak evil of others are likely to have others speak evil of them. Alas, that 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.
"On the other hand, if the Prince loves what is good and hates what is bad, why ask him to change his ways? Before you even open your mouth to preach, the Prince will seize the chance to defeat you. Your eyes will drop, your expression will fade, and your words will stick in your throat. Your face will change, and your heart will die within you. It will be like using fire to put out fire, or water to stop water. People call this 'pouring oil on the flames.' And if you start making concessions, there will be no end to them. Ignore this sound advice, and you will fall victim to 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.
"In ancient times, Chieh murdered Kuan Lung Fêng, and Chou killed Prince Pi Kan. Both victims cultivated virtue to protect the welfare of the people. But by doing so, they offended their superiors. Their superiors therefore got rid of them because of that very virtue, in order to protect their own reputations.
Chieh and Chou are the two classic tyrants of 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."
"Long ago, Yao attacked the Ts'ung-chih and Hsü-ao countries, and Yü attacked the Yu-hu country. The slaughter of their inhabitants left homes deserted and families destroyed. Yet they fought without stopping and struggled for victory to the end. Everyone knows these examples. If the sages of old failed to overcome this love of fame and desire for victory, are you likely to succeed? But of course you have a plan. Tell me what it is."
"Gravity of demeanour," replied Yen Hui, "and dispassionateness; energy and singleness of purpose,—will this do?"
“A serious manner and calm detachment,” replied Yen Hui, “and energy and a clear sense of purpose. Will that 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?"
“Alas!” said Confucius, “that will not do. If you show off your perfection and force yourself on the Prince, his response will be uncertain. He is rarely opposed, so he has come to enjoy trampling on other people’s feelings. If he has failed to practice ordinary virtues, do you expect him to readily adopt higher ones? You may insist, but you will get nowhere. Outwardly you will be right, but inwardly you will be wrong. How, then, will you get him to change his ways?”
"Just so," replied Yen Hui. "I am inwardly straight, and outwardly crooked, completed after the models of antiquity.
"Exactly," replied Yen Hui. "I am upright within, but flexible outwardly, shaped by the examples of ancient times.
"He who is inwardly straight is a servant of God. And he who is a servant of God knows that the Son of Heaven 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.
"Someone who is honest at heart is a servant of God. A servant of God knows that he and the Son of Heaven are equally children of God. Would such a person worry about whether others treat him well or badly? People do regard him as a child. That is what it means to be a servant of God.
The Emperor.
(1) Children are exempt everywhere. This is the first part of a three-part 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.
"Someone who bends outwardly is a servant of others. He bows, kneels, and folds his hands. These are the formal gestures of a minister. Would I dare refuse to do what everyone does? No one will blame me for doing what everyone does. This is what it means to be a servant of others.
(2) A person is not punished for the community's faults.
"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?"
"Anyone who follows the examples of the past is a servant of the Sages of old. Although I warn him and criticize him, the Sages of old are speaking, not I. So my honesty will not get me into trouble, since I am a servant of the Sages of old. Will this do?"
(3) Responsibility lies not with the speaker, but with the authors of the doctrines expressed.
"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."
"Alas!" replied Confucius, "No. You have too many plans, and they are not cautious enough. Your firmness will keep you safe from harm, but that is all. You will not influence him enough to make him seem to be following his own heart."
"Then," said Yen Hui, "I am without resource, and venture to ask for a method."
"Then," said Yen Hui, "I don't know what to do, and I ask if you can suggest a way."
Confucius said, "FAST.... Let me explain. You have a method, but it is difficult to practise. Those which are easy are not from God."
Confucius said, "FAST.... Let me explain. You have a method, but it is hard to practice. Easy methods 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?"
"Well," replied Yen Hui, "my family is poor, and we haven't had wine or meat for many months. Isn't that fasting?"
"The fasting of religious observance it is," answered Confucius, "but not the fasting of the heart."
"That is fasting as a religious practice," Confucius replied, "but not fasting of the heart."
"And may I ask," said Yen Hui, "in what consists the fasting of the heart?"
"And may I ask," said Yen Hui, "what does fasting of the heart mean?"
"Cultivate unity," replied Confucius.
"Develop unity," Confucius replied.
Make the mind, as it were, one undivided and indivisible whole.
"You hear not with the ears, but with the mind; not with the mind, but with your soul.
"Listen not with your ears, but with your mind, and not with your mind, but with your soul.
The vital fluid that gives life to 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."
But let hearing stop with the ears. Let the mind’s activity stop with the mind. Then the soul will be empty and passively responsive to what is outside it. In that emptiness, only Tao can dwell. And that empty 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?"
"Then," said Yen Hui, "my own individuality is why I could not use this method. If I could use it, my individuality would be 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.
"Exactly right," the Master replied. "Let me explain. Suppose you can enter this man's domain without offending his amour propre. You must be cheerful if he listens to you and passive if he does not. You must live there without science or drugs, in a state of complete indifference. If you can do all that, you will be close to success. It is easy to stop walking. The hard part is walking without touching the ground. It is easy to deceive as an agent of man, but not as an agent of God. You have heard of creatures flying with wings. You have never heard of creatures flying without wings. You have heard of people being wise through wisdom. You have never heard of people being wise without wisdom.
Wise with God's wisdom, without human wisdom.
"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.
"Look at that window. Through it, the scenery brightens an empty room, but the landscape remains outside. If it did not, this would be an example of sitting still and running away at the same time.
An empty room would contain something, a paradox like the one in the text.
"In this sense, you may use your ears and eyes to communicate within, but shut out all wisdom from the mind.
"In this sense, you may use your ears and eyes to communicate within, but shut out all wisdom from your mind.
Let your senses be to your mind what a window is to an empty room.
And there where the supernatural can find shelter, shall not man find shelter too? This is the method for regenerating all creation.
And where the supernatural can find shelter, can't people find shelter too? This is the way to regenerate all creation.
Something that exists and yet does not, like a landscape seen in a room, yet not in the room.
Through passive, not 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?"
It was the tool that Yü and Shun used. It was the secret of Fu Hsi and Chi Chü's success. Shouldn't everyone use it too?"
Who need regeneration much more than those worthy ancient Emperors did.
Tzŭ Kao, Duke of Shê, 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.
Tzŭ Kao, Duke of Shê, was about to go on a mission to the Ch'i State. He asked Confucius, "The mission my sovereign is sending me on is very important. Of course, they will receive me with all due respect. But they will not take as much interest in the matter as I do. Even an ordinary person cannot be pushed, much less a Prince, so I am deeply alarmed.
A district in the State of Ch'u.
"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.
"Now, Sir, you have told me that in all undertakings, great and small, only Tao leads to a good outcome. Otherwise, failure brings the threat of punishment from outside, while success brings punishment from within. Only those who possess the required virtue escape punishment, whether they succeed or fail.
I.e. those who are completely indifferent to whether the outcome brings them reward or punishment.
Here, as elsewhere unless otherwise noted, virtue means the expression 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."
"Well, I am not picky about my food. Nor do I always want to cool down when I am hot. But I received my orders this morning, and this evening I have been drinking ice water. I am so hot inside. Before I have even started the task, I am suffering punishment from within. And if I do not succeed, I am sure to suffer punishment from outside. So I face punishment from both sides, which is really more than I can bear. Please tell me what I should do."
"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.
“There are 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 ruler is duty. Nowhere under heaven can a subject escape that duty. These two sources of safety may be explained as follows. To serve one’s parents wherever one is, concerned only with serving them, is the highest form of filial devotion. To serve one’s ruler, concerned only with serving him and not with the particular act, is perfect loyalty. To govern one’s own heart so that neither joy nor sorrow enters it, and to accept the inevitable, is the height 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.
"A minister often faces circumstances beyond his control. But if he simply focuses on his work and forgets himself completely, what time does he have to love life or hate death? 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, 'Confine yourself to simple statements of fact, shorn of all superfluous expression of feeling, and your risk will be small.'
"But I have more to tell you. All dealings in person should be sincere. If you communicate from a distance, you should use loyal terms. Someone will have to carry your messages. Now, carrying messages of goodwill or ill will is the hardest thing possible. Messages of goodwill are sure to be overdone with fine phrases. Messages of ill will are sure to be overdone with harsh ones. In both cases, the message is exaggerated and fails to convince, and the envoy suffers for it. Therefore it was said in the Fa-yen, 'Stick to simple statements of fact. Leave out all unnecessary expressions of feeling, and your risk will be small.'
The name of an ancient book.
"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.
"In contests of skill, everyone is friendly at first, but in the end everyone becomes hostile. Skill is pushed too far. Likewise, at celebrations, drinking starts out orderly enough but ends in chaos and disorder. Celebration is pushed too far. In fact, it is the same with all things. They begin in good faith and end in contempt. Great endings come from small beginnings."
"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?
"Words affect feelings as wind affects waves. Actions can stray from their true goal. Wind easily stirs up waves. Straying from the true goal is dangerous. So angry feelings arise without cause. Misleading words and dishonest arguments follow, like the wild cries of an animal dying. Both sides give in to passion. When one side pushes the other too far into a corner, resistance will always follow without apparent cause. And if the cause is not apparent, how much less apparent will the eventual result be?"
"Therefore it is said in the Fa-yen, 'Neither deviate from nor travel beyond your instructions.
"Therefore, the Fa-yen says, 'Do not stray from or go beyond your instructions.
"Travel beyond your instructions," literally means "urge a settlement."
To pass the limit is to go to excess.'
Going beyond the limit is going too far.'
"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.
"Straying from or going beyond your instructions may jeopardize the negotiation. For a settlement to succeed, it must last. Once a bad settlement is made, it is too late to change it.
"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."
"So let yourself be carried along without fear. Take refuge in no alternative to protect yourself from harm on either side. This is the most you can do. Why consider your obligations? Better to leave everything to Destiny, though that may be difficult."
It is very strange that Confucius is made to explain Tao's laissez-aller doctrine of inaction. In doing so, he partly discredits his own teachings. However, the commentators see nothing unusual in the role given to the Sage here.
Yen Ho was about to become tutor to the eldest son of Prince Ling of the Wei State. Accordingly he observed to Chü Poh Yü, "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."
Yen Ho was about to become tutor to the eldest son of Prince Ling of the Wei State. So he said to Chü Poh Yü, "This man is naturally of low character. If I let him have his unprincipled way, I endanger the State. If I try to restrain him, I endanger my own safety. He is clever enough to see faults in others, but not in himself. So I am at a loss about what to do."
A philosopher from the state of Lu.
Prince Ling is the same person as Duke Ling in chapters v, xx, and xxv. All such terms are, of course, arbitrary. They are simply convenient equivalents for the Chinese titles in the text.
Prime Minister of the state of Wei.
"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.
"A good question indeed," replied Chü Poh Yü. "You must be careful and begin by changing yourself. Outwardly, you may adapt, but inwardly, you must hold to your own standard. There are two dangers to guard against. You must not let your outward adaptation reach within, or let your inner standard show outwardly. If your outward adaptation reaches within, you will fall, be erased, collapse, and lie helpless. If your inner standard shows outwardly, you will become a sound, a name, a bogeyman, something strange and frightening. If he acts like a child, you should act like a child too. If he abandons all sense of proper behavior, you should do the same. Go as far as he goes. 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.
"Don't you know the story of the praying mantis? In a rage, it stretched out its arms to stop a chariot from passing. It didn't know it wasn't strong enough, but what admirable energy it had! Be careful. If you keep offending others by showing your superiority, you will probably come to harm.
"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.
"Don’t you know that tiger keepers never feed tigers live animals? They fear that killing the prey would stir the tigers’ fury. They do not give tigers whole animals either, for fear that tearing them apart would stir their fury. The keepers carefully watch when the tigers are hungry and when they are full to prevent such outbursts. Tigers are a different species from humans. But humans, too, can be managed if handled properly, and cannot be managed if stirred 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."
"People who love horses provide them with all kinds of comforts. Sometimes mosquitoes or flies bother the horses. A groom may brush the insects off without warning, causing a horse to break its bridle and injure its head and chest. The intention is good, but it shows a lack of real care for the horse. You must guard against this."
A certain artisan was travelling to the Ch'i State. On reaching Ch'ü-yüan, he saw a sacred li tree, 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?"
An artisan was traveling to the Ch'i State. When he reached Ch'ü-yüan, he saw a sacred li tree. It was large enough to hide an ox behind it and a hundred spans around. It towered ten cubits above the hilltop and spread its branches behind it. Many tens of its smallest branches were large enough to make boats. Crowds stood gazing at the tree, but the artisan paid no attention. He went on his way without even looking back. His apprentice, however, gazed at it to his heart's content. When he caught up with his master, he said, "Ever since I began using an adze in your service, I have never seen such a splendid piece of timber. Why didn't you stop to look at it, sir?"
A worthless kind of oak.
"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."
"It's not worth talking about," his master replied. "It's good for nothing. Make a boat from it, and the boat would sink. Make a coffin, and it would rot. Furniture would soon break down. A door would sweat. A pillar would be eaten by worms. This wood is worthless and useless. That's 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 the artisan got home, he dreamed that the tree appeared to him and said: "What are you comparing me with? Are you comparing me with the more graceful trees? Cherry-apple, pear, orange, pumelo, and other fruit trees are stripped and treated roughly as soon as their fruit ripens. Their great branches are broken off, and their small branches are scattered. In this way, these trees harm their own lives through their value. They cannot live out their allotted years. Instead, they die prematurely, halfway through life, because of their entanglement with the world around them. The same is true of all things. "For a long time, I aimed to be useless. I was in danger many times, but at last I succeeded. That is how I became useful as I am today. But if I had been useful then, I would not be of such great use now. "Besides, you and I belong to the same category of things. So stop criticizing others. Is a good-for-nothing fellow whose dangers are not yet over fit to judge 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?"
When the artisan woke up and told his apprentice about his dream, the apprentice asked, "If the tree wanted to be useless, why did it become a sacred tree?"
Which, of course, may be useful.
"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, and to test these by ordinary canons leaves one far wide of the mark."
"Don't talk about what you don't understand," his master replied. "That was merely a way to escape attacks from its enemies. If it had not become sacred, how many people would have wanted to cut it down! Its way of keeping safe was different from ordinary ways, so judging it by ordinary standards misses the mark entirely."
To reach the somewhat unusual goal of uselessness.
Tzŭ Ch'i of Nan-poh 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.
Tzŭ Ch'i of Nan-poh was traveling on Shang mountain when he saw a huge tree. It astonished him. A thousand chariot teams could have sheltered in its shade.
Said to be the same person mentioned at the beginning of ch. ii.
"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.
"What tree is this?" cried Tzŭ Ch'i. "Surely it must have unusually fine timber." Then he looked up and saw that its branches were too crooked to use as rafters. The trunk's irregular grain made it useless for coffins. He tasted a leaf, but it stripped the skin from his lips. Its smell was so strong that it would leave a man feeling drunk for three whole days.
"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."
"Ah!" said Tzŭ Ch'i. "This tree is good for nothing, and that is how it grew so large. A wise man might do well to follow its example."
And so avoid danger in 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.
In the State of Sung, there is a place called Ching-shih, where beech, cedar, and mulberry trees thrive. Trees about one handspan around are cut down to make monkey cages. Those two or three two-handed spans around are cut down for the beams of fine houses. Those seven or eight two-handed spans around are cut down for the solid sides of rich men's coffins.
Even today, the best wood is 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.
So they do not live out their natural lives, but are cut down by the axe before their time. Such is the misfortune that comes with being useful.
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.
Bulls with white cheeks, pigs with large snouts, and men with hemorrhoids could not be sacrificed to the River God. This had been revealed to the soothsayers, so these characteristics were considered bad omens. The wise, however, would consider them extremely good omens.
Readers of Don Juan will remember why 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.
There was a hunchback named Su. His jaws touched his navel. His shoulders rose above his head. His hair was tied in a knot that pointed toward the sky. His internal organs were upside down. His buttocks were where his ribs should have been. He could easily earn a living by tailoring or washing clothes. By sifting rice, he could earn enough to support a family of ten.
In all these occupations, a man would have to 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.
When orders came to draft men into the army, the hunchback stood among the crowd without worry. Likewise, his deformity kept him from being forced to work on public projects.
On the other hand, when it came to donations of grain, the hunchback received as much as three chung, 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!
On the other hand, the hunchback received as much as three chung of donated grain and ten bundles of firewood. If physical deformity was enough to preserve his body until its allotted end, how much more could moral and mental deformity do!
An ancient measure of unknown capacity.
A moral or mental difference would make a man even more likely to be neglected by others. Such neglect is very good for our true well-being.
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!— unable to wait for the coming years or to go back into the past.
When Confucius was in the Ch'u State, the eccentric Chieh Yü passed his door, saying, "O phoenix, O phoenix, how your virtue has fallen! You cannot wait for the years to come or return to the past.
By coming forth at the wrong time.
When you might be useful, or might have been useful. The idea 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.
If Tao prevails on earth, prophets will fulfill their mission. If Tao does not prevail, they will only keep themselves safe. Today, they will barely 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 honors of this world are as light as feathers, yet no one values them for what they are. The misfortunes of this life are as heavy as the earth itself, yet no one can escape them. No more, no more. Do not try to influence others through virtue. Beware, beware. Move cautiously on! O ferns, O ferns, do not hurt my steps! Do not hurt my feet as I follow this winding path! Hills suffer because of the trees they produce. Fat burns because it catches fire. Cinnamon trees provide food, so they are cut down. The lacquer tree is cut down because it is useful. Everyone knows the use of useful things, but no one knows the use of useless things."