Chapter 6
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.
Argument: The human and the divine. The pure people of old. Their qualities. Their detachment from self. All things as one. The known and the unknown. Life as a blessing. Death as a transition. Eternal life open to all. The way to eternal life. Examples.
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.
A person who knows what God is and what Man is has attained understanding. Knowing what God is, he knows that he himself came from God. Knowing what Man is, he rests in his knowledge of what is known, waiting to learn what is unknown. Living out one's allotted life without dying halfway through it is the fullness of knowledge.
God is a principle which exists by virtue of its own intrinsicality, and operates spontaneously, without self-manifestation.
God is a principle that exists by its own nature and acts spontaneously without revealing itself.
The divine finds expression in human beings. Humans come from God. So, in our brief lives on earth, we should be 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?
But there is a flaw here. Knowledge depends on fulfillment. And since fulfillment is uncertain, how can I know that what I call divine is not really human, or what I call human is not really divine?
Only when death lifts the veil can we truly know that immortality lies on either side of this life. The soul finally returns to that immortality.
"Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state."
"Heaven hides the book of Fate from all creatures, Except for the page allotted to them, their present state."
We must have pure men, and then only can we have pure knowledge.
We must have pure men before we can have pure knowledge.
"Pure" must be understood to mean 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.
But what is a pure man? The pure men of old acted without calculation and did not seek to secure results. They made no plans. So when they failed, they had no reason for regret. When they succeeded, they had no reason to congratulate themselves. Thus they could climb heights without fear, enter water without getting wet, and enter fire without feeling hot. Their wisdom had brought them so close to 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.
The pure men of long ago slept without dreams and woke without anxiety. They ate whatever was offered and breathed deeply. For pure men breathe from the deepest part of themselves, while ordinary people breathe only from their throats.
"Uttermost depths" literally means "heels." But all the best commentators take the sentence to mean that pure men breathe with their whole being. They do not breathe superficially, from the throat alone.
This passage is probably the source of the practice of taking deep breaths of morning air. Followers of the debased Taoism of modern times practice it, and it is not without scientific foundation. Other tricks for prolonging life are more open to criticism. These include swallowing saliva three times every two hours, etc. 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.
Words are retched up from the crooked like vomit. If people’s passions run 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, nor to let the human seek to supplement the divine.
The pure people of old did not know what it meant to love life or hate death. They did not rejoice in being born or try to delay death. They came quickly and went quickly. That was all. They did not forget where they came from, nor did they try to return there sooner. They cheerfully played their allotted parts and waited patiently for the end. This is called not leading the heart astray from Tao, nor letting the human try to supplement the divine.
By allowing passions to arise in the sense condemned in ch. v., which would keep the mind from resting quietly in its knowledge of what is known.
But to wait patiently to learn what is unknown.
And this is what is meant by a pure man.
And that is what it means to be 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.
Such men are completely free in mind. They are serious in manner and cheerful in expression. If it is freezing cold, it feels like autumn to them. If it is blazing hot, it feels like spring. Their passions come and go like the four seasons.
Each at its assigned time.
They are in harmony with all creation, and none know the limit thereof.
They are in harmony with all creation, and no one knows the limits of that harmony.
These last few words appear in the Tao-Tê-Ching, ch. lviii. See The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 40. They also appear, 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.
So a perfect man can destroy a kingdom without losing the hearts of its people. Yet the benefits he passes down to ten thousand generations do not come from love for his fellow humans.
Whatever he does is spontaneous, and therefore natural, and therefore right.
He who delights in man, is himself not a perfect man. His affection is not true charity.
A person who delights in others is not a perfect person. His affection is not true charity.
Charity is love for all creation, with no particular expressions.
Depending upon opportunity, he has not true worth.
Because he depends on opportunity, he has no true worth.
True worth does not depend on circumstances. It always works for good without conscious effort and does not need an opportunity to bring it into being.
He who is not conversant with both good and evil is not a superior man.
A person who does not understand both good and evil is not a superior person.
Practice good and avoid evil.
He who disregards his reputation is not what a man should be.
A man who ignores his reputation is not what a man should be.
As just a social unit.
He who is not absolutely oblivious of his own existence can never be a ruler of men.
Anyone who is not completely unaware of their own existence can never rule others.
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.
Thus Hu Pu Hsieh, Wu Kuang, Poh I, Shu Ch'i, Chi Tzŭ, Hsü Yü, Chi T'o, and Shên T'u Ti served rulers. They carried out the wishes of others, not their own.
A list of ancient worthies whose careers were more or less unsuccessful. Little is known about the first two, except that the second had seven-inch ears.
The third and fourth were brothers and examples of moral purity. Each refused the throne of their State because he thought his brother had a stronger claim to it. In the end, they starved in the mountains rather than submit to a change of Imperial dynasty. We will hear more about these two later.
The fifth covered his whole body with lacquer so that no one would come near him. Nothing is recorded about the sixth. Of the seventh, all that is known is 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.
The pure men of the past fulfilled their duties to their neighbors, but did not associate with them.
Among them, but not one 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.
They acted as if they lacked something, but they did not flatter others. Naturally square, they were not unyieldingly hard. They showed their independence without going to extremes. They seemed to smile as if pleased, but the expression was only a natural response.
As required by the needs 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.
Their outward appearance was captivating because of the goodness within them. They seemed to belong to the world around them, yet proudly lived beyond its limits. They seemed to want silence, but in truth they had left language behind.
See ch. v.
They saw in penal laws a trunk; in social ceremonies, wings; 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.
They saw penal laws as a trunk, social ceremonies as wings, wisdom as a useful accessory, and morality as a guide. For them, penal laws meant administering justice mercifully. Social ceremonies were a passport through the world. Wisdom was an excuse for doing what they could not help doing. Morality meant walking the same path as everyone else.
A natural foundation for government.
To help people make their way through life.
Instead of going randomly across the countryside. Even at such an early date, uniformity was characteristic of the Chinese people.
And thus all men praised them for the worthy lives they led.
So everyone praised them for living worthy lives.
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.
What they cared about could be reduced to ONE, and what they did not care about could also be reduced to ONE. What was ONE was ONE, and what was not ONE was also ONE. In what was ONE, they belonged to God. In what was not ONE, they belonged to Man. So there was no conflict between the human and the divine. This was what it meant 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.
Life and death are matters of Destiny. Like day and night, they follow a sequence set by God. It is an inevitable law that humans cannot alter.
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?
A man sees God as his father and loves him just as much. Should he not also love what is greater than God?
Namely. 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?
A man sees a human ruler as someone better than himself, for whom he would give his life. Would he not do the same for the Supreme Ruler of Creation?
Sc. Tao is the all-present, all-powerful Principle that gives even God his divine power and attributes.
However, a careful student of pure Taoism will find that the distinction between Tao and God is sometimes too subtle to grasp.
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.
When a pond dries up, the fish are left on dry ground. Moistening them with breath or spit is not as good as leaving them in their native rivers and lakes to begin with. And rather than praising Yao and blaming Chieh, it would be better to leave both aside and attend 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.
Tao gives me my body, the work of adulthood, the ease of old age, and the rest of death. Surely, Tao, which guides my life so kindly, is best suited to guide my death too.
A boat may be hidden in a creek, or in a bog, safe enough.
A boat may be hidden safely enough in a creek or a bog.
The text says "or a mountain in a bog," which seems to me to make no sense in context. Yet all the commentators struggle to explain away the problem instead of making the obvious change from "mountain" to "boat". The forms of the two Chinese characters make this change easy. In over two thousand years of literary activity, it seems rarely to have occurred to the Chinese that a textus receptus could contain a copyist's error.
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.
But at midnight, a strong man may come and carry the boat away on his back. People who cannot see clearly do not realize that there is always a chance of losing things, however carefully they hide smaller things inside larger ones.
The boat represents our mortal life, 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.
But if you hide the whole universe within the whole universe, there will be nowhere for it to be lost. The laws of matter make this 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.
Taking human form must always be a source of joy. And to undergo countless transformations, with only infinity ahead, is a joy beyond compare! That is why the truly wise rejoice in what can never be lost, but lasts forever.
The soul, as Tao, is equal in extent only to time and space.
For if we can accept early death, old age, a beginning, and an end, why not that which informs all creation and is of all phenomena the Ultimate Cause?
If we can accept early death, old age, a beginning, and an end, why not also accept what gives form to all creation and is the ultimate cause of all phenomena?
As inseparable from Destiny, already a step in the right direction.
The long chain of immediate causes ends in Tao. This fully answers questions like the one the Penumbra asked the Umbra at the end 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.
Tao has its laws and its signs. It has neither action nor form. It can be passed on, but it cannot be received.
So 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.
Tao can be attained, but it cannot be seen. Tao existed before heaven and earth. It has existed unchanged for all time. Spiritual beings drew their spirituality from Tao, and the universe became what we see today. To Tao, the highest point is not high, and the lowest point is not low. No point in time is long ago, and Tao has not grown old with the passing of ages.
To the infinite, all terms and conditions are relative.
Hsi Wei obtained Tao, and so set the universe in order.
Hsi Wei attained Tao and so brought order to the universe.
A legendary ruler from ancient times. No reliable account survives of how he set the universe in order.
Fu Hsi obtained it, and was able to establish eternal principles.
Fu Hsi gained it and was able to establish eternal principles.
The first ruler on the traditional list of Chinese sovereigns (B.C. 2852). He is said to have invented writing and 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 Great Bear obtained it and has never strayed from its course. The sun and moon obtained it and have never stopped revolving. K'an P'i obtained it and created the K'un-lun mountains.
The divinity of the sacred mountains mentioned here.
P'ing I obtained it, and rules over the streams. Chien Wu obtained it, and dwells on Mount T'ai.
P'ing I obtained it and rules over the streams. Chien Wu obtained it and lives on Mount T'ai.
See chapter i.
The Yellow Emperor obtained it, and soared upon the clouds to heaven.
The Yellow Emperor gained it and soared on the clouds to heaven.
The most famous of China's legendary rulers (B.C. 2697). He is said to have invented wheeled vehicles and helped launch his people's civilization, among other things. Some of Lao Tzŭ's sayings have been attributed to him. Some have regarded him as the first to teach Tao.
Chuan Hsü obtained it, and dwells in the Dark Palace.
Chuan Hsü gained it and lives in the Dark Palace.
A legendary ruler (B.C. 2513). Nothing is known about his Dark Palace.
Yü Ch'iang obtained it, and fixed himself at the North Pole.
Yü Ch'iang obtained it and settled at the North Pole.
As its guiding spirit.
Hsi Wang Mu obtained it, and settled at Shao Kuang; since when, no one knows; until when, no one knows either.
Hsi Wang Mu obtained it and settled at Shao Kuang. No one knows when she settled there or when she will leave.
A woman, or perhaps a place, as accounts differ, whose name has inspired countless legends.
P'êng Tsu obtained it, and lived from the time of Shun until the time of the Five Princes.
P'êng Tsu obtained it and lived from the time of Shun to 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 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.
Fu Yüeh obtained it, and as Minister of Wu Ting, he gained control of the empire. Now he rides in a chariot on one constellation, drawn by another, and has taken his place among the stars of heaven.
A ruler of the Yin dynasty, B.C. 1324.
Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei said to Nü Yü, "You are old, Sir, and yet your countenance is like that of a child. How is this?"
Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei said to Nü Yü, "Sir, you are old, but your face looks like a child's. How is that possible?"
Probably the person mentioned in chs. ii. and iv.
One source says she was a woman.
Nü Yü replied, "I have learnt Tao."
Nü Yü replied, "I have learned Tao."
"Could I get Tao by studying it?" asked the other.
"Could I gain Tao by studying it?" the other person asked.
"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.
"I don't think so," said Nü Yü. "You are not that kind of man. There was Pu Liang I. He had all the qualifications of a sage, but not Tao. I had Tao, though none of the qualifications. But do you think I could teach him Tao and make him a perfect sage, however much I wished to? If I could, then teaching Tao to someone with the qualifications of a sage would be easy. No, sir. I taught him as though holding back. And in three days, the earthly world had ceased to exist for him.
With all its petty distinctions between ruler and subject, high and low, good and bad, and so on.
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.
When he had reached this state, I held back again. Seven days later, the external world no longer existed for him. I held back again for nine more days, and he became unaware of his own existence. First he became ethereal. Next he gained perfect wisdom. Then he was free of past and present. Finally, he could enter the place where life and death no longer exist. There, killing does not take away life, and prolonging life does not lengthen existence.
In Tao, life and death are one.
In that state, he is ever in accord with the exigencies of his environment; 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."
In that state, he always adapts to the demands of his surroundings. This is to be Battered but not Bruised. And whoever can be battered but not bruised is on the way to perfection."
Literally, there is no sense in which he is not accompanying or meeting, destroying or constructing. In other words, despite his spiritual condition described above, he can still adapt naturally to life among other people. The pure man does not need to live as a hermit to achieve perfection.
"And how did you manage to get hold of all this?" asked Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei.
"And how did you get 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, 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!"
“I got it from books,” Nü Yü replied. “Books got it from learning, and learning from investigation. Investigation got it from coordination, and coordination from application. Application got it from the desire to know, and the desire to know from the unknown. The unknown got it from the great void, and the great void from infinity!”
About the eye and the mind.
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.
Four men were talking together when someone suggested: "Anyone who can make Inaction the head, Life the backbone, and Death the tail of his existence can be our friend." The four looked at one another and smiled. Without a word, they accepted the conditions and became friends at once.
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!"
After a while, one of them, named Tzŭ Yü, fell ill. Another, Tzŭ Ssŭ, went to see him. "God is truly great!" said the sick man. "Look how he has bent me double. My back is so hunched that my internal organs are at the top of my body. My cheeks are level with my navel. My shoulders are higher than my neck. My hair grows upward toward the sky. My whole body is out of order. Yet my mind remains at peace." As he spoke, he painfully dragged himself to a well where he could see his reflection. He continued, "Alas, God has bent me double like this!"
"Are you afraid?" asked Tzŭ Ssŭ.
"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?"
“I am not,” replied Tzŭ Yü. “What do I have to fear? Before long, I will decompose. My left shoulder will become a rooster, and I will announce the coming of morning. My right shoulder will become a crossbow, and I will be able to get broiled duck. My buttocks will become wheels, and my soul will serve as a horse. Then I will be able to ride in my own chariot. I gained life because it was my time. Now I am leaving it according to the same law. I am content with the natural sequence of these states, so joy and sorrow do not touch me. As the ancients put it, I am simply hanging in the air, unable to cut myself down, bound by material existence. But human beings have always 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 or into the shoulders of a snake?"
Later, another of the four friends, Tzŭ Lai, fell ill. He lay gasping for breath while his family stood around him, weeping. The fourth friend, Tzŭ Li, came to see him. "Hush!" he cried to Tzŭ Lai's wife and children. "Go away! You're interfering with his decomposition." Then, leaning against the door, he said, "God is truly great! I wonder what he will make of you now. I wonder where you will be sent. Do you think he will turn you into a rat's liver or the shoulders of a snake?"
The Chinese believe that rats have no liver.
"A son," answered Tzŭ Lai, "must go whithersoever his parents bid him. Nature is no other than a man's parents.
"A son," answered Tzŭ Lai, "must go wherever his parents tell him to go. Nature is a man's parent.
Here, "Nature" translates Yin and Yang, the Positive and Negative Principles of Chinese cosmogony. The visible universe results from their interaction.
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.
If she tells me to die quickly and I hesitate, I am a disobedient son. She can do me no wrong. Tao gives me this form, the labor of adulthood, the ease of old age, and the rest of death. Surely Tao, which governs my life so kindly, is the best judge 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."
"Suppose the molten metal in a smelting pot bubbled up and said, 'Make me into an Excalibur.' I think the metalworker would reject it as unnatural. And suppose a sinner like me said to God, 'Make me a man, make me a man.' I think he too would reject me as unnatural. The universe is the smelting pot, and God is the metalworker. I will go wherever I am sent. I will wake with no memory of the past, like someone waking 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?
Tzŭ Sang Hu, Mêng Tzŭ Fan, and Tzŭ Ch'in Chang were talking together when someone asked, "Who can be and yet not be?
Implying a complete absence of consciousness.
Who can do, and yet not do?
Who can act and yet not act?
Through 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?"
Who can rise to heaven, roam through the clouds, and pass beyond the limits of space, unaware of existence, forever and ever?"
The three looked at each other and smiled; and as neither had any misgivings, they became friends accordingly.
The three looked at each other and smiled. Since none of them had any doubts, they became friends.
Shortly afterwards Tzŭ Sang Hu died; whereupon Confucius sent Tzŭ Kung to take part in the mourning. But Tzŭ Kung found that one had composed a song which the other was accompanying on the lute, as follows:—
Shortly afterward, Tzŭ Sang Hu died. Confucius then sent Tzŭ Kung to join in the mourning. But Tzŭ Kung found that one had composed a song, while the other accompanied it on the lute. The song went as follows:
One of his main disciples.
Strictly speaking, a type of zitha played with two hammers.
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!
Ah! Will you come back to us, Sang Hu? Ah! Will you come back to us, Sang Hu? You have already returned to your 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?"
Tzŭ Kung hurried in and said, "How can you sing next to a corpse? Is that proper?"
The two men looked at each other and laughed, saying, "What should this man know of decorum indeed?"
The two men looked at each other and laughed, saying, "What would this man know about proper behavior?"
Not outwardly proper behavior, but an inwardly proper 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.
Tzŭ Kung went back and told Confucius. He asked him, "What kind of men are these? They seek nothingness and separation from their bodies.
Commentators interpret this sentence in different ways, most of them strained.
They can sit near a corpse and yet sing, unmoved. There is no class for such. What are they?"
They can sit beside a corpse and sing without being moved. They belong to no class. What are they?"
"These men," replied Confucius, "travel beyond the rule of life. I travel within it. Consequently, our paths do not meet; and I was wrong in sending you to mourn. They consider themselves as one with God, recognising no distinctions between human and divine. They look on life as a huge tumour from which death sets them free. All the same they know not where they were before birth, nor where they will be after death. Though admitting different elements, they take their stand upon the unity of all things. They ignore their passions. They take no count of their ears and eyes. Backwards and forwards through all eternity, they do not admit a beginning or end. They stroll beyond the dust and dirt of mortality, to wander in the realms of inaction. How should such men trouble themselves with the conventionalities of this world, or care what people may think of them?"
"These men," Confucius replied, "live outside the rules of life. I live within them. So our paths do not meet, and I was wrong to send you to mourn. They see themselves as one with God and make no distinction between the human and the divine. They see life as a huge tumor from which death sets them free. Even so, they do not know where they were before birth or where they will be after death. Though they acknowledge different elements, they believe that all things are one. They ignore their passions and pay no attention to what they hear or see. Looking backward and forward through all eternity, they accept no beginning or end. They wander beyond the dust and dirt of mortal life, roaming in realms of inaction. Why should such men bother with the conventions of this world or care what people think of them?"
"But if such is the case," said Tzŭ Kung, "why should we stick to the rule?"
"But if that is so," said Tzŭ Kung, "why should we stick to the rule?"
"Heaven has condemned me to this," replied Confucius. "Nevertheless, you and I may perhaps escape from it."
"Heaven has condemned me to this," Confucius replied. "But perhaps you and I can escape it."
"By what method?" asked Tzŭ Kung.
"How?" asked Tzŭ Kung.
"Fishes," replied Confucius, "are born in water. Man is born in Tao. If fishes get ponds to live in, they thrive. If man gets Tao to live in, he may live his life in peace.
"Fish," Confucius replied, "are born in water. People are born in Tao. If fish have ponds to live in, they thrive. If people have Tao to live in, they may live their lives in peace.
Without regard for the outward rituals of this world.
Hence the saying, 'All that a fish wants is water; all that a man wants is Tao.'"
That is why people say, 'All a fish wants is water. All a man wants is Tao.'"
Of course, making Confucius endorse the rival school's Tao here and elsewhere is a literary coup de main.
"May I ask," said Tzŭ Kung, "about divine men?"
"May I ask about divine men?" Tzŭ Kung said.
"Divine men," replied Confucius, "are divine to man, but ordinary to God. Hence the saying that the meanest being in heaven would be the best on earth; and the best on earth, the meanest in heaven."
"Divine men," Confucius replied, "seem divine to humans, but ordinary to God. That is why people say the lowest being in heaven would be the best on earth. And the best on earth would be the lowest in heaven."
"Man is a kind of very minute heaven. God is the grand man." Swedenborg.
Yen Hui said to Confucius, "When Mêng Sun Ts'ai's mother died, he wept, but without snivelling; he grieved but his grief was not heartfelt; he wore mourning but without howling. Yet although wanting in these three points, he is considered the best mourner in the State of Lu. Surely this is the name and not the reality. I am astonished at it."
Yen Hui said to Confucius, "When Mêng Sun Ts'ai's mother died, he wept, but without sniffling. He grieved, but his grief was not heartfelt. He wore mourning clothes, but did not wail. Yet although he fell short in these three ways, he is considered the best mourner in the State of Lu. Surely he has the reputation but not the substance of a true mourner. I am astonished by this."
Which the Chinese consider a test of genuine sorrow.
"Mêng Sun," said Confucius, "did all that was required. He has made an advance towards wisdom.
"Mêng Sun," said Confucius, "did all that was required. He has made progress toward wisdom.
Towards Tao, where there is no weeping or grinding of teeth.
He could not do less; while all the time actually doing less.
He could not do less, yet all the while he was actually doing less.
Than mourn openly for fear of breaking social etiquette, with which the true Sage lives in harmony, if not always in accordance.
As shown by the absence of signs of inner grief.
"Mêng Sun knows not whence we come nor whither we go. He knows not whether the end will come early or late. Passing into life as a man, he quietly awaits his passage into the unknown. What should the dead know of the living, or the living know of the dead? Even you and I may be in a dream from which we have not yet awaked.
"Mêng Sun does not know where we come from or where we go. He does not know whether the end will come early or late. Born into life as a man, he quietly waits to pass into the unknown. What can the dead know of the living, or the living know of the dead? Even you and I may be dreaming, and we may not have awakened yet.
"Then again, he adapts himself physically, while avoiding injury to his higher self.
"Then again, he adapts his body, while avoiding harm to his higher self.
To the body's rituals.
Keeping his soul free from the disturbance of strong emotions.
He regards a dying man simply as one who is going home. He sees others weep, and he naturally weeps too.
He sees a dying man simply as someone going home. When he sees others cry, he naturally cries too.
"Besides, a man's personality is something of which he is subjectively conscious. It is impossible for him to say if he is really that which he is conscious of being. You dream you are a bird, and soar to heaven. You dream you are a fish, and dive into the ocean's depths. And you cannot tell whether the man now speaking is awake or in a dream.
"Besides, a man is aware of his own personality. But he cannot know whether he really is the person he believes himself to be. You dream you are a bird and soar into the sky. You dream you are a fish and dive into the ocean's depths. And you cannot tell whether the man now speaking is awake or dreaming.
"A pleasurable sensation precedes the smile it evokes. The smile itself is not dependent upon a reminding nudge.
"A pleasant feeling comes before the smile it causes. The smile itself does not need a nudge to remind it.
So Mêng Sun's outward expression of grief was spontaneous, because it was in harmony with his surroundings.
Resign yourself, unconscious of all changes, and you shall enter into the pure, the divine, the One."
Let go, unaware of all changes, and you will enter the pure, the divine, the One."
To your earthly surroundings.
From life to death, etc.
I Erh Tzŭ went to see Hsü Yu. The latter asked him, saying, "How has Yao benefited you?"
I Erh Tzŭ went to see Hsü Yu. Hsü Yu asked him, "How has Yao helped you?"
"He bade me," replied the former, "practise charity and do my duty, and distinguish clearly between right and wrong."
"He told me," replied the first man, "to be charitable, do my duty, and clearly distinguish right from wrong."
"Then what do you want here?" said Hsü Yu. "If Yao has already branded you with charity and duty, and cut off your nose with right and wrong, what do you do in this free-and-easy, care-for-nobody, topsy-turvy neighbourhood?"
"Then what do you want here?" said Hsü Yu. "If Yao has already branded you with charity and duty, and cut off your nose with right and wrong, what are you doing in this carefree, topsy-turvy neighborhood where nobody cares about anyone else?"
About Tao.
"Nevertheless," replied I Erh Tzŭ, "I should like to be on its confines."
"Even so," replied I Erh Tzŭ, "I would like to be near its borders."
"If a man has lost his eyes," retorted Hsü Yu, "it is impossible for him to join in the appreciation of beauty. A man with a film over his eyes cannot tell a blue sacrificial robe from a yellow one."
"If a man has lost his eyes," Hsü Yu replied, "he cannot share in the appreciation of beauty. A man with a film over his eyes cannot tell a blue sacrificial robe from a yellow one."
"Wu Chuang's disregard of her beauty," answered I Erh Tzŭ, "Chü Liang's disregard of his strength, the Yellow Emperor's abandonment of wisdom,—all these were brought about by a process of filing and hammering. And how do you know but that God would rid me of my brands, and give me a new nose, and make me fit to become a disciple of yourself?"
“Wu Chuang’s disregard for her beauty, Chü Liang’s disregard for his strength, and the Yellow Emperor’s abandonment of wisdom all came about through a process of filing and hammering,” answered I Erh Tzŭ. “And how do you know that God won’t remove my brands, give me a new nose, and make me fit to become your disciple?”
"Ah!" replied Hsü Yu, "that cannot be known. But I will just give you an outline. The Master I serve succours all things, and does not account it duty. He continues his blessings through countless generations, and does not account it charity. Dating back to the remotest antiquity, he does not account himself old. Covering heaven, supporting earth, and fashioning the various forms of things, he does not account himself skilled. He it is whom you should seek."
"Ah!" replied Hsü Yu, "that cannot be known. But I will give you an outline. The Master I serve helps all things, but he does not consider it his duty. He continues to bless all things through countless generations, but he does not consider it charity. He dates back to the most ancient times, but he does not consider himself old. He covers heaven, supports earth, and shapes all the different forms of things. Yet he does not consider himself skilled. He is the one you should seek."
And he is Tao.
"I am getting on," observed Yen Hui to Confucius.
"I am making progress," Yen Hui said to Confucius.
The most famous of all Confucius’s disciples. Confucius acknowledged that the disciple was as close to perfection as possible.
"How so?" asked the latter.
"How so?" the second person asked.
"I have got rid of charity and duty," replied the former.
"I have given up charity and duty," the first one replied.
"Very good," replied Confucius, "but not perfect."
"Very good," Confucius replied, "but not perfect."
Another day Yen Hui met Confucius and said, "I am getting on."
Another day, Yen Hui met Confucius and said, "I am making progress."
"How so?" asked Confucius.
"How is that?" asked Confucius.
"I have got rid of ceremonial and music," answered Yen Hui.
"I have given up ceremonies and music," Yen Hui replied.
"Very good," said Confucius, "but not perfect."
"Very good," said Confucius, "but not perfect."
On a third occasion Yen Hui met Confucius and said, "I am getting on."
The third time Yen Hui met Confucius, he said, "I am making progress."
"How so?" asked the Sage.
"How is that?" asked the Sage.
"I have got rid of everything," replied Yen Hui.
"I've gotten rid of everything," Yen Hui replied.
"Got rid of everything!" said Confucius eagerly. "What do you mean by that?"
"Got rid of everything!" Confucius said eagerly. "What do you mean by that?"
"I have freed myself from my body," answered Yen Hui. "I have discarded my reasoning powers. And by thus getting rid of body and mind, I have become One with the Infinite. This is what I mean by getting rid of everything."
"I have freed myself from my body," Yen Hui replied. "I have given up my ability to reason. By getting rid of body and mind, I have become one with the Infinite. That is what I mean by getting rid of everything."
"If you have become One," cried Confucius, "there can be no room for bias. If you have passed into space, you are indeed without beginning or end. And if you have really attained to this, I trust to be allowed to follow in your steps."
"If you have become One," cried Confucius, "there can be no room for bias. If you have passed into space, you are indeed without beginning or end. And if you have truly attained this, I hope you will let me follow in your footsteps."
Tzŭ Yü and Tzŭ Sang were friends. Once when it had rained for ten days, Tzŭ Yü said, "Tzŭ Sang is dangerously ill." So he packed up some food and went to see him.
Tzŭ Yü and Tzŭ Sang were friends. Once, after ten days of rain, Tzŭ Yü said, "Tzŭ Sang is dangerously ill." So he packed some food and went to see him.
In keeping with the demands of mortal life. It is unclear how Tzŭ Yü knew that his friend was ill. One commentator has attempted an explanation based on animal magnetism, which the Chinese have believed in for centuries.
Arriving at the door, he heard something between singing and lamentation, accompanied with the sound of music, as follows:—
When he reached the door, he heard something between singing and mourning, accompanied by music. It went like this:
"O father! O mother! O Heaven! O Man!"
"Oh, father! Oh, mother! Oh, Heaven! Oh, Man!"
These words seemed to be uttered with a great effort; whereupon Tzŭ Yü went in and asked what it all meant.
The words seemed to be spoken with great effort. Tzŭ Yü then went in and asked what it all meant.
"I was trying to think who could have brought me to this extreme," replied Tzŭ Sang, "but I could not guess. My father and mother would hardly wish me to be poor. Heaven covers all equally. Earth supports all equally. How can they make me in particular poor? I was seeking to know who it was, but without success. Surely then I am brought to this extreme by Destiny."
"I was trying to think who could have brought me to such poverty," replied Tzŭ Sang, "but I could not guess. My father and mother would hardly want me to be poor. Heaven covers all equally. Earth supports all equally. How could they make me poor in particular? I tried to find out who was responsible, but I could not. Surely, then, Destiny has brought me to such poverty."
"The words Fate or Destiny express what people in all ages have felt: the laws of the world do not always help us. They often hurt and crush us." Emerson.