Horses' Hooves

Horses have hoofs to carry them over frost and snow; hair, to protect them from wind and cold. They eat grass and drink water, and fling up their heels over the champaign. Such is the real nature of horses. Palatial dwellings are of no use to them.

Horses have hooves to carry them over frost and snow, and hair to protect them from wind and cold. They eat grass, drink water, and kick up their heels on the open plain. This is the true nature of horses. Palaces are of no use to them.

One day Poh Loh¹ appeared, saying, "I understand the management of horses."

One day Poh Loh¹ appeared and said, "I know how to manage horses."

So he branded them, and clipped them, and pared their hoofs, and put halters on them, tying them up by the head and shackling them by the feet, and disposing them in stables, with the result that two or three in every ten died. Then he kept them hungry and thirsty, trotting them and galloping them, and grooming, and trimming, with the misery of the tasselled bridle before and the fear of the knotted whip behind, until more than half of them were dead.

So he branded them, clipped them, trimmed their hooves, and put halters on them. He tied them by their heads, shackled their feet, and put them in stables. As a result, two or three out of every ten died. Then he kept them hungry and thirsty. He made them trot and gallop, groomed them, and trimmed them. They suffered from the tasseled bridle in front and feared the knotted whip behind. In the end, more than half of them were dead.

The potter says, "I can do what I will with clay. If I want it round, I use compasses; if rectangular, a square."

The potter says, "I can shape clay however I want. If I want it round, I use a compass. If I want it rectangular, I use a square."

The carpenter says, "I can do what I will with wood. If I want it curved, I use an arc; if straight, a line."

The carpenter says, "I can do whatever I want with wood. If I want it curved, I use an arc. If I want it straight, I use a line."

But on what grounds can we think that the natures of clay and wood desire this application of compasses and square, of arc and line? Nevertheless, every age extols Poh Loh for his skill in managing horses, and potters and carpenters for their skill with clay and wood. Those who govern the empire make the same mistake.

But why should we think that clay and wood, by their nature, want to be shaped with compasses and squares, curves and straight lines? Nevertheless, every age praises Poh Loh for his skill in handling horses. Every age also praises potters and carpenters for their skill with clay and wood. Those who govern the empire make the same mistake.

Now I regard government of the empire from quite a different point of view.

Now I see governing the empire quite differently.

The people have certain natural instincts;—to weave and clothe themselves, to till and feed themselves. These are common to all humanity, and all are agreed thereon. Such instincts are called "Heaven-sent."

People have certain natural instincts: to weave cloth for clothing and to farm for food. These instincts are common to all humanity, and everyone agrees on them. Such instincts are called "Heaven-sent."

And so in the days when natural instincts prevailed, men moved quietly and gazed steadily. At that time, there were no roads over mountains, nor boats, nor bridges over water. All things were produced, each for its own proper sphere. Birds and beasts multiplied; trees and shrubs grew up. The former might be led by the hand; you could climb up and peep into the raven's nest. For then man dwelt with birds and beasts, and all creation was one. There were no distinctions of good and bad men. Being all equally without knowledge, their virtue could not go astray. Being all equally without evil desires, they were in a state of natural integrity, the perfection of human existence.

And so, in the days when natural instincts prevailed, people moved quietly and gazed steadily. There were no roads over the mountains, and no boats or bridges to cross the water. All things came into being, each in its own proper place. Birds and animals multiplied, and trees and shrubs grew. You could lead the birds and animals by the hand. You could climb up and peek into a raven's nest. For people lived among the birds and animals, and all creation was one. There was no distinction between good and bad people. All were equally without knowledge, so their virtue could not go astray. All were equally free of evil desires, so they lived in a state of natural integrity, the perfection of human existence.

But when Sages appeared, tripping people over charity and fettering with duty to one's neighbour, doubt found its way into the world. And then with their gushing over music and fussing over ceremony, the empire became divided against itself.²

But when Sages appeared, they tripped people up with charity and tied them down with duty to their neighbors. Doubt then entered the world. And when the Sages gushed over music and fussed over ceremony, the empire became divided against itself.²

Were the natural integrity of things left unharmed, who could make sacrificial vessels? Were white jade left unbroken, who could make the regalia of courts? Were Tao not abandoned, who could introduce charity and duty to one's neighbour? Were man's natural instincts his guide, what need would there be for music and ceremonies? Were the five colours not confused, who would practise decoration? Were the five notes not confused, who would adopt the six pitch-pipes?³

If things were left whole in their natural state, who could make sacrificial vessels? If white jade were left unbroken, who could make ornaments for royal courts? If Tao had not been abandoned, who could introduce charity and duty to one's neighbor? If people were guided by their natural instincts, what need would there be for music and ceremonies? If the five colors were not mixed up, who would practice decoration? If the five notes were not mixed up, who would use the six pitch-pipes?³

Destruction of the natural integrity of things, in order to produce articles of various kinds,—this is the fault of the artisan. Annihilation of Tao in order to practise charity and duty to one's neighbour,—this is the error of the Sage.

The artisan's fault is destroying the natural integrity of things to make all kinds of objects. The Sage's error is destroying Tao in order to practice charity and duty toward others.

Horses live on dry land, eat grass and drink water. When pleased, they rub their necks together. When angry, they turn around and kick up their heels at each other. Thus far only do their natural dispositions carry them. But bridled and bitted, with a plate of metal on their foreheads, they learn to cast vicious looks, to turn the head to bite, to resist, to get the bit out of the mouth or the bridle into it. And thus their natures become depraved,—the fault of Poh Loh.

Horses live on dry land, eat grass, and drink water. When they are happy, they rub their necks together. When they are angry, they turn around and kick at each other. That is as far as their natural behavior goes. But when fitted with bridles, bits, and metal plates on their foreheads, horses learn to give vicious looks. They learn to turn their heads to bite and to resist. They learn to get the bit out of their mouths or the bridle into them. And so their natures become corrupted, through the fault of Poh Loh.

In the days of Ho Hsü⁴ the people did nothing in particular when at rest, and went nowhere in particular when they moved. Having food, they rejoiced; having full bellies, they strolled about. Such were the capacities of the people. But when the Sages came to worry them with ceremonies and music in order to rectify the form of government, and dangled charity and duty to one's neighbour before them in order to satisfy their hearts,—then the people began to develop a taste for knowledge and to struggle one with the other in their desire for gain. This was the error of the Sages.⁵

In the days of Ho Hsü⁴, people did nothing in particular when they rested and went nowhere in particular when they moved. When they had food, they rejoiced. When their bellies were full, they strolled about. That was what the people were capable of. But then the Sages came and troubled them with ceremonies and music to set the government right. The Sages also dangled charity and duty to one’s neighbor before them to satisfy their hearts. Then the people began to develop a taste for knowledge and to struggle against one another in their desire for gain. This was the error of the Sages.⁵