Chapter 12
The Universe
Argument:—The prëeminence of Tao—All things informed thereby—The true Sage illumined thereby—His attributes—His perfection—Man's senses his bane—Illustrations.
Argument: Tao is supreme. Tao shapes all things and illuminates the true sage. The sage's qualities and perfection. The harm caused by human senses. Examples.
Vast as is the universe, its phenomena are regular. Countless though its contents, the laws which govern these are uniform. Many though its inhabitants, that which dominates them is sovereignty. Sovereignty begins in virtue and ends in God. Therefore it is called divine.
Though the universe is vast, its phenomena follow regular patterns. Though it contains countless things, the laws governing them are uniform. Though its inhabitants are many, sovereignty rules over them. Sovereignty begins in virtue and ends in God. Therefore, sovereignty is called divine.
The term used here has also been translated as "infinite."
Of old, the empire was under the sovereignty of inaction. There was the virtue of God,—nothing more.
Long ago, the empire was ruled by inaction. There was only the virtue of God.
Meaning, of course, Tao. In other words, all things existed in their own natural conditions.
Words being in accordance with Tao, the sovereignty of the empire was correct. Delimitations being in accordance with Tao, the duties of prince and subject were clear. Abilities being in accordance with Tao, the officials of the empire governed. The point of view being always in accordance with Tao, all things responded thereto.
When words were in accord with Tao, the empire was rightly ruled. When boundaries were in accord with Tao, the duties of ruler and subject were clear. When abilities were in accord with Tao, the empire’s officials governed. When the point of view was always in accord with Tao, all things responded to it.
Under a rule of inaction, the natural prevailed over the artificial. (1) The ruler could issue no cruel order. (2) Ruler and subject each played their assigned part. (3) The right people were in the right places. (4) All things were as they were, not as people wanted them to be.
Thus, virtue was the connecting link between God and man, while Tao spread throughout all creation. Men were controlled by outward circumstances, applying their in-born skill to the development of civilised life. This skill was bound up with the circumstances of life, and these with duty, and duty with virtue, and virtue with Tao, and Tao with God.
Thus, virtue linked God and humanity, while Tao spread throughout all creation. People were controlled by external circumstances and used their inborn skills to develop civilized life. These skills were linked to the circumstances of life. Those circumstances were linked to duty, duty to virtue, virtue to Tao, and Tao to God.
Therefore it has been said, "As for those who nourished the empire of old, having no desires for themselves, the empire was not in want. They did nothing, and all things proceeded on their course. They preserved a dignified repose, and the people rested in peace."
So it has been said, "Those who cared for the empire in ancient times had no desires of their own, so the empire lacked nothing. They did nothing, and everything followed its course. They remained calm and dignified, and the people lived in peace."
We are not told who said these words. They are not in the Tao-Tê-Ching. Yet if Lao Tzŭ did not say them, it is hard to say who did.
The Record says, "By converging to One, all things may be accomplished. By the virtue which is without intention, even the supernatural may be subdued."
The Record says, "By coming together as One, all things may be accomplished. Through virtue without intention, even supernatural forces may be subdued."
How much more man? Kuo Hsiang says the Record was the title of a work attributed to Lao Tzŭ.
The Master said, "Tao covers and supports all things,"—so vast is its extent. Each man should prepare his heart accordingly.
The Master said, "Tao covers and supports all things." Tao is that vast. Everyone should prepare their heart accordingly.
This "Master" has been identified as both Chuang Tzŭ and Lao Tzŭ.
"To act by means of inaction is God. To speak by means of inaction is Virtue. To love men and care for things is Charity. To recognise the unlike as the like is breadth of view. To make no distinctions is liberal. To possess variety is wealth. And so, to hold fast to virtue is strength. To complete virtue is establishment. To follow Tao is to be prepared. And not to run counter to the natural bias of things is to be perfect.
"To act through inaction is God. To speak through inaction is Virtue. To love people and care for things is Charity. To recognize that different things are alike is broad-mindedness. To make no distinctions is open-minded. To have variety is wealth. And so, holding fast to virtue is strength. Bringing virtue to completion is stability. To follow Tao is to be prepared. And to go along with the natural tendency of things is to be perfect.
"He who fully realises these ten points, by storing them within enlarges his heart, and with this enlargement brings all creation to himself. Such a man will bury gold on the hillside and cast pearls into the sea. He will not struggle for wealth, nor strive for fame. He will not rejoice at old age, nor grieve over early death. He will find no pleasure in success, no chagrin in failure. He will not account a throne as his own private gain, nor the empire of the world as glory personal to himself. His glory is to know that all things are One, and that life and death are but phases of the same existence!"
"Anyone who fully understands these ten points and holds them within himself expands his heart. With this expanded heart, he draws all creation to himself. Such a man will bury gold on a hillside and throw pearls into the sea. He will not struggle for wealth or strive for fame. He will not rejoice at old age or grieve over an early death. He will take no pleasure in success and feel no disappointment in failure. He will not regard a throne as his own private gain or an empire over the world as his personal glory. His glory is knowing that all things are One, and that life and death are only phases of the same existence!"
"Let man learn that he is here, not to work, but to be worked upon; and that, though abyss open under abyss, and opinion displace opinion, all are at last contained in the Eternal Cause." Emerson.
The Master said, "How profound in its repose, how infinite in its purity, is Tao!
The Master said, "How deeply peaceful and infinitely pure Tao is!
"If metal and stone were without Tao, they would not be capable of emitting sound. And just as they possess the property of sound but will not emit sound unless struck, so surely is the same principle applicable to all creation.
"If metal and stone had no Tao, they could not make a sound. They can make sounds, but only when struck. The same principle surely applies to all creation.
This means that all creation responds to the right influences, in accordance with Tao, if only we knew where to find them.
"The man of complete virtue remains blankly passive as regards what goes on around him. He is as originally by nature, and his knowledge extends to the supernatural. Thus, his virtue expands his heart, which goes forth to all who come to take refuge therein.
"The man of complete virtue remains wholly passive toward what happens around him. He remains as nature originally made him, and his knowledge extends to the supernatural. Thus, his virtue opens his heart to all who come to take refuge in it.
His heart does not start the movement, but simply responds to an influence acting on it.
"Without Tao, form cannot be endued with life. Without virtue, life cannot be endued with intelligence. To preserve one's form, live out one's life, establish one's virtue, and realise Tao,—is not this complete virtue?
"Without Tao, the body cannot have life. Without virtue, life cannot have intelligence. To preserve your body, live out your life, establish your virtue, and realize Tao. Is this not complete virtue?
"Issuing forth spontaneously, moving without premeditation, all things following in his wake,—such is the man of complete virtue!
"He acts spontaneously, without planning ahead, and all things follow in his wake. Such is the man of complete virtue!"
"He can see where all is dark. He can hear where all is still. In the darkness he alone can see light. In the stillness he alone can detect harmony. He can sink to the lowest depths of materialism. To the highest heights of spirituality he can soar. This because he stands in due relation to all things. Though a mere abstraction, he can minister to their wants, and ever and anon receive them into rest,—the great, the small, the long, the short, for ever without end."
"He can see where all is dark. He can hear where all is still. In the darkness, he alone can see light. In the stillness, he alone can hear harmony. He can sink to the lowest depths of materialism. He can soar to the greatest heights of spirituality. This is because he stands in the proper relation to all things. Though he is only an abstraction, he can meet their needs and from time to time bring them to rest. He does this for all things, great and small, long and short, forever and without end."
He is, so to speak, a law of compensation for all things.
The Yellow Emperor travelled to the north of the Red Lake and ascended the K'un-lun Mountains. Returning south he lost his magic pearl.
The Yellow Emperor traveled north of the Red Lake and climbed the K'un-lun Mountains. On his way back south, he lost his magic pearl.
His spiritual part, his soul.
He employed Intelligence to find it, but without success. He employed Sight to find it, but without success. He employed Speech to find it, but without success. Finally, he employed Nothing, and Nothing got it.
He sent Intelligence to find it, but Intelligence failed. He sent Sight to find it, but Sight failed. He sent Speech to find it, but Speech failed. Finally, he sent Nothing, and Nothing found it.
Also understood as "Strength."
He did not use Nothing to find it. He simply used Nothing.
"Strange indeed," quoth the Emperor, "that Nothing should have been able to get it!"
"How strange," said the Emperor, "that Nothing was able to get it!"
Knowledge, sight, and speech tend to obscure rather than reveal human spiritual nature. True spirituality can be found only in a state of negation.
Yao's tutor was Hsü Yu. The latter's tutor was Yeh Ch'üeh, and Yeh Ch'üeh's tutor was Wang I, whose tutor was Pei I.
Yao's tutor was Hsü Yu. Hsü Yu's tutor was Yeh Ch'üeh. Yeh Ch'üeh's tutor was Wang I, whose tutor was Pei I.
Yao enquired of Hsü Yu, saying, "Would Yeh Ch'üeh do to be emperor? I am going to get Wang I to ask him."
Yao asked Hsü Yu, "Would Yeh Ch'üeh make a good emperor? I am going to ask Wang I to find out."
"Alas!" cried Hsü Yu, "that would be bad indeed for the empire. Yeh Ch'üeh is a clever and capable man. He is by nature better than most men, but he seeks by means of the human to reach the divine. He strives to do no wrong; but he is ignorant of the source from which wrong springs. Emperor forsooth! He avails himself of the artificial and neglects the natural. He lacks unity in himself. He worships intelligence and is always in a state of ferment. He is a slave to circumstances and to things. Wherever he looks, his surroundings respond. He himself responds to his surroundings.
“Alas!” cried Hsü Yu, “that would be terrible for the empire. Yeh Ch'üeh is clever and capable. By nature, he is better than most men, but he tries to reach the divine through human means. He tries to do no wrong, but he does not know where wrong comes from. Emperor, indeed! He relies on what is artificial and neglects what is natural. He lacks unity within himself. He worships intelligence and is always in turmoil. He is a slave to circumstances and things. Wherever he looks, his surroundings respond. He responds to his surroundings.
He is not yet an abstraction shaped by Tao.
He is always undergoing modifications and is wanting in fixity. How should such a one be fit for emperor? Still every clan has its elder. He may be leader of a clan, but not a leader of leaders. A captain who has been successful in suppressing rebellion, as minister is a bane, as sovereign, a thief."
He is always changing and lacks stability. How could such a person be fit to be emperor? Still, every clan has its elder. He may lead a clan, but not other leaders. A captain who has successfully put down a rebellion is a menace as a minister and a thief as a ruler."
Yao went to visit Hua. The border-warden of Hua said "Ha! a Sage. My best respects to you, Sir. I wish you a long life."
Yao went to visit Hua. The border guard of Hua said, "Ah! A sage. My respects to you, sir. I wish you a long life."
"Don't!" replied Yao.
"Don't!" Yao replied.
"I wish you plenty of money," continued the border-warden.
"I wish you plenty of money," the border warden continued.
"Don't!" replied Yao.
"Don't!" Yao replied.
"And many sons," added he.
"And many sons," he added.
"Don't!" replied Yao.
"Don't!" replied Yao.
"Long life, plenty of money, and many sons," cried the warden, "these are what all men desire. How is it you alone do not want them?"
"Long life, plenty of money, and many sons," cried the warden. "All men want these things. Why are you the only one who doesn't?"
"Many sons," answered Yao, "are many anxieties. Plenty of money means plenty of trouble. Long life involves much that is not pleasant to put up with. These three gifts do not advance virtue; therefore I declined them."
"Many sons bring many worries," Yao replied. "A lot of money brings a lot of trouble. A long life involves much that is unpleasant to endure. These three gifts do not promote virtue, so I declined them."
"At first I took you for a Sage," said the warden, "but now I find you are a mere man. God, in sending man into the world, gives to each his proper function. If you have many sons and give to each his proper function, what cause have you for anxiety?
"At first I thought you were a Sage," said the warden, "but now I see you are just an ordinary man. When God sends people into the world, he gives each one a proper role. If you have many sons and give each one a proper role, what do you have to worry about?
"And similarly, if you have wealth and allow others to share it, what troubles will you have?"
"Similarly, if you have wealth and share it with others, what troubles will you have?"
"The true Sage dwells like the quail and feeds like a fledgeling.
"The true sage lives like a quail and eats like a young bird.
At random.
Which depends on its parents.
He travels like the bird, leaving no trace behind. If there be Tao in the empire, he and all things are in harmony. If there be not Tao, he cultivates virtue in retirement. After a thousand years of this weary world, he mounts aloft, and riding upon the white clouds passes into the kingdom of God, whither the three evils do not reach, and where he rests secure in eternity. What is there to put up with in that?"
He travels like a bird, leaving no trace behind. If the empire follows Tao, he lives in harmony with all things. If it does not, he withdraws from the world and cultivates virtue. After a thousand years in this weary world, he rises and rides on white clouds into the kingdom of God. There the three evils cannot reach him, and he rests safe for eternity. What is there to put up with in that?"
Thereupon the border-warden went off, and Yao followed him; saying, "May I ask——," to which the warden only replied "Begone!"
Then the border warden walked away, and Yao followed him, saying, "May I ask..." The warden replied only, "Go away!"
The episode above differs enough from Chuang Tzŭ's usual style to cast doubt on his authorship.
When Yao was Emperor, Poh Ch'êng Tzŭ Kao was one of his vassals. But when Yao handed over the empire to Shun, and Shun to the Great Yü, Poh Ch'êng Tzŭ Kao resigned his fief and betook himself to agriculture.
When Yao was Emperor, Poh Ch'êng Tzŭ Kao was one of his vassals. But Yao handed the empire over to Shun, and Shun handed it over to the Great Yü. Poh Ch'êng Tzŭ Kao then gave up his fief and became a farmer.
Lao Tzŭ in a previous incarnation. See Kuang Ch'êng Tzŭ on p. 125.
The Great Yü going to visit him, found him working in the fields; whereupon he approached humbly, saying, "When Yao was emperor, you, Sir, were a vassal; but when Yao handed over the empire to Shun, and Shun to me, you resigned your fief and betook yourself to agriculture. May I enquire the reason of this?"
The Great Yü went to visit him and found him working in the fields. He approached him humbly and said, "When Yao was emperor, sir, you were a vassal. But Yao handed over the empire to Shun, and Shun handed it over to me. Then you gave up your fief and took up farming. May I ask why?"
"When Yao ruled the empire," said Tzŭ Kao, "the people exerted themselves without reward and behaved themselves without punishment. But now you reward and punish them, and yet they are not good. From this point virtue will decline, the reign of force will begin, and the troubles of after ages will date their rise. Away with you! Do not interrupt my work." And he quietly went on ploughing as before.
"When Yao ruled the empire," said Tzŭ Kao, "the people worked hard without rewards and behaved well without punishment. But now you reward and punish them, and they are still not good. From this point, virtue will decline and rule by force will begin. The troubles of future ages will begin here. Go away! Do not interrupt my work." And he quietly went on ploughing as before.
The episode above is clearly not authentic.
At the beginning of the beginning, even Nothing did not exist. Then came the period of the Nameless.
At the very beginning, even Nothing did not exist. Then came the time of the Nameless.
"The Nameless," says the Tao-Tê-Ching, ch. i, "was the beginning of heaven and earth." See also ch. ii, ante.
When One came into existence, there was One, but it was formless. When things got that by which they came into existence, it was called their virtue.
When One came into existence, it had no form. What things received that brought them into existence was called their virtue.
Sc. what makes them what they are. See ch. iv.
That which was formless, but divided, though without interstice, was called destiny.
What was formless but divided, though without gaps, was called destiny.
That is, assigned.
Continuing without a break.
Then came the movement which gave life, and things produced in accordance with the principles of life had what is called form. When form encloses the spiritual part, each with its own characteristics, that is its nature. By cultivating this nature, we are carried back to virtue; and if this is perfected, we become as all things were in the beginning. We become unconditioned, and the unconditioned is great. As birds join their beaks in chirping, and beaks to chirp must be joined,—to be thus joined with the universe without being more conscious of it than an idiot, this is divine virtue, this is accordance with the eternal fitness of things.
Then came the movement that gave life. Things produced according to the principles of life had what is called form. When form contains the spiritual part, each with its own characteristics, that is its nature. By cultivating this nature, we return to virtue. If virtue is perfected, we become as all things were in the beginning. We become unconditioned, and the unconditioned is great. Birds join their beaks to chirp, and their beaks must be joined for them to chirp. To be joined with the universe in this way, without being more aware of it than an idiot, is divine virtue. It is being in harmony with the eternal fitness of things.
Without realizing it.
Confucius asked Lao Tzŭ, saying, "There are persons who cultivate Tao according to fixed rules of possible and impossible, fit and unfit, just as the schoolmen speak of separating hardness from whiteness as though these could be hung up on different pegs.
Confucius asked Lao Tzŭ, "Some people cultivate Tao according to fixed rules about what is possible and impossible, fit and unfit. They do this just as scholars speak of separating hardness from whiteness, as though each could be hung on a different peg.
See ch. ii.
Could such persons be termed sages?"
Could such people be called sages?"
"That," replied Lao Tzŭ, "is but the skill of the handicraftsman, wearing out body and soul alike. The powers of the hunting-dog involve it in trouble; the cleverness of the monkey brings it down from the mountain.
"That," replied Lao Tzŭ, "is only a craftsman's skill, wearing out both body and soul. The hunting dog's abilities get it into trouble. The monkey's cleverness brings it down from the mountain.
A person keeps it rather than letting it be free.
Into human hands.
Ch'iu, what I mean you cannot understand, neither can you put it into words.
Ch'iu, you cannot understand what I mean, nor can you put it into words.
Ch'iu was Confucius's personal name. Confucianists never say it, usually substituting "a certain one" instead. They never write it down without omitting a stroke to change its form.
Those who have a head and feet, but no mind nor ears, are many. Those who have a body without a body or appearance of one, and yet there they are,—are none. Movement and rest, life and death, rise and fall, are not at the beck and call of man. Cultivation of self is in his own hands. To be unconscious of objective existences and of God, this is to be unconscious of one's own personality. And he who is unconscious of his own personality, combines in himself the human and the divine."
Many people have heads and feet, but no minds or ears. But no one exists who has a body without having a body or the appearance of one. Movement and rest, life and death, rise and fall are not under human control. But people can cultivate themselves. To be unaware of the external world and of God is to be unaware of one's own self. And whoever is unaware of their own self combines the human and the divine."
Chiang Lü Mien went to see Chi Ch'ê, and said, "The Prince of Lu begged me to instruct him, but I declined. However, he would take no refusal, so I was obliged to do so. I don't know if I was correct in my doctrine or not. Please note what I said. I told him to be decorous and thrifty; to advance the public-spirited and loyal, and to have no partialities. Then, I said, no one would venture to oppose him."
Chiang Lü Mien went to see Chi Ch'ê, and said, "The Prince of Lu begged me to teach him, but I refused. He would not take no for an answer, so I had to teach him. I don't know whether my teaching was right or not. Please consider what I said. I told him to behave properly and be thrifty, to promote those who were loyal and cared about the public good, and to show no favoritism. Then, I said, no one would dare to oppose him."
Two little-known people.
Chi Ch'ê sniggered and said, "Your remarks on the virtues of Princes may be compared with the mantis stretching out its feelers and trying to stop a carriage,—not likely to effect the object proposed.
Chi Ch'ê snickered and said, "Your remarks about the virtues of princes are like a mantis stretching out its feelers to stop a carriage. They are unlikely to achieve their purpose.
See ch. iv, where the same figure is used.
Besides, he would be placing himself in the position of a man who builds a lofty tower and makes a display of his valuables where all his neighbours will come and gaze at them."
Besides, he would be like a man who builds a tall tower and displays his valuables for all his neighbors to come and stare at."
Attracting people by means that go against Tao.
"Alas! I fear I am but a fool," replied Chiang Lü Mien. "Nevertheless, I should be glad to be instructed by you in the proper course to pursue."
"Alas! I fear I am only a fool," replied Chiang Lü Mien. "But I would be glad if you would teach me the right course to follow."
"The government of the perfect Sage," explained Chi Ch'ê, "consists in influencing the hearts of the people so as to cause them to complete their education, to reform their manners, to subdue the rebel mind, and to exert themselves one and all for the common good. This influence operates in accordance with the natural disposition of the people, who are thus unconscious of its operation. He who can so act has no need to humble himself before the teachings of Yao and Shun. He makes the desires of the people coincident with virtue, and their hearts rest therein."
"The perfect Sage governs by influencing the hearts of the people," explained Chi Ch'ê. "He leads them to complete their education, improve their conduct, and overcome their rebellious minds. He leads them all to work for the common good. This influence works in keeping with the people's natural character, so they are unaware of it. Anyone who can govern this way has no need to humble himself before the teachings of Yao and Shun. He brings the people's desires into harmony with virtue, and their hearts find rest in virtue."
When Tzŭ Kung went south to the Ch'u State on his way back to the Chin State, he passed through Han-yin. There he saw an old man engaged in making a ditch to connect his vegetable garden with a well. He had a pitcher in his hand, with which he was bringing up water and pouring it into the ditch,—great labour with very little result.
Tzŭ Kung went south to the Ch'u State. On his way back to the Chin State, he passed through Han-yin. There he saw an old man digging a ditch to connect his vegetable garden to a well. The man used a pitcher to draw water and pour it into the ditch. He worked very hard, but accomplished very little.
See ch. vi.
"If you had a machine here," cried Tzŭ Kung, "in a day you could irrigate a hundred times your present area. The labour required is trifling as compared with the work done. Would you not like to have one?"
"If you had a machine here," cried Tzŭ Kung, "you could irrigate a hundred times as much land in a day. It would take very little labor compared with the work done. Wouldn't you like one?"
"What is it?" asked the gardener.
"What is it?" asked the gardener.
"It is a contrivance made of wood," replied Tzŭ Kung, "heavy behind and light in front. It draws up water as you do with your hands, but in a constantly overflowing stream. It is called a well-sweep."
"It's a wooden device," replied Tzŭ Kung. "It's heavy at the back and light at the front. It draws up water as you do with your hands, but in a constant, overflowing stream. It's called a well-sweep."
Still used throughout China.
Thereupon the gardener flushed up and said, "I have heard from my teacher that those who have cunning implements are cunning in their dealings, and that those who are cunning in their dealings have cunning in their hearts, and that those who have cunning in their hearts cannot be pure and incorrupt, and that those who are not pure and incorrupt are restless in spirit, and that those who are restless in spirit are not fit vehicles for Tao. It is not that I do not know of these things. I should be ashamed to use them."
The gardener blushed and said, "My teacher told me that people who use clever tools deal cunningly with others. Those who deal cunningly with others have cunning in their hearts. Those with cunning in their hearts cannot be pure and incorruptible. Those who are not pure and incorruptible are restless in spirit. And those who are restless in spirit are not fit to receive the Tao. It is not that I don't know about these tools. I would be ashamed to use them."
At this Tzŭ Kung was much abashed, and said nothing. Then the gardener asked him who he was, to which Tzŭ Kung replied that he was a disciple of Confucius.
At this, Tzŭ Kung was very embarrassed and said nothing. Then the gardener asked who he was. Tzŭ Kung replied that he was a disciple of Confucius.
"Are you not one who extends his learning with a view to being a Sage; who talks big in order to put himself above the rest of mankind; who plays in a key to which no one can sing so as to spread his reputation abroad? Rather become unconscious of self and shake off the trammels of the flesh,—and you will be near. But if you cannot govern your own self, what leisure have you for governing the empire? Begone! Do not interrupt my work."
“Do you not study more so that you can become a Sage? Do you not talk big to put yourself above everyone else? Do you not play in a key no one can sing in, so that your fame will spread? Instead, forget yourself and cast off the bonds of the flesh. Then you will be close to becoming a Sage. But if you cannot govern yourself, how can you have time to govern the empire? Go away! Do not interrupt my work.”
Tzŭ Kung changed colour and slunk away, being not at all pleased with this rebuff; and it was not before he had travelled some thirty li that he recovered his usual appearance.
Tzŭ Kung's face changed color, and he slunk away, not at all pleased by the rebuff. He did not regain his usual appearance until he had traveled some thirty li.
"What did the man we met do," asked a disciple, "that you should change colour and not recover for such a long time?"
"What did the man we met do," a disciple asked, "to make you turn pale and take so long to recover?"
"I used to think there was only one man in all the world," replied Tzŭ Kung.
"I used to think there was only one man in the whole world," Tzŭ Kung replied.
Referring to Confucius.
"I did not know that there was also this man. I have heard the Master say that the test of a scheme is its practicability, and that success must be certain. The minimum of effort with the maximum of success,—such is the way of the Sage.
"I did not know about this man either. I have heard the Master say that a plan must be workable and its success certain. The Sage's way is to achieve the greatest success with the least effort.
Anyone who studies Confucius's surviving writings will see how absurd it is to attribute such doctrines to him.
"Not so this manner of man. Aiming at Tao, he perfects his virtue. By perfecting his virtue he perfects his body, and by perfecting his body he perfects his spiritual part. And the perfection of the spiritual part is the Tao of the Sage. Coming into life he is as one of the people, knowing not whither he is bound. How complete is his purity? Success, profit, skill,—these have no place in his heart. Such a man, if he does not will it, he does not stir; if he does not wish it, he does not act. If all the world praises him, he does not heed. If all the world blames him, he does not repine.
"But this kind of man is different. He aims at Tao and perfects his virtue. By perfecting his virtue, he perfects his body. By perfecting his body, he perfects his spirit. And the perfection of the spirit is the Tao of the Sage. When he comes into life, he is like other people, not knowing where he is going. How complete is his purity? Success, profit, and skill have no place in his heart. If such a man does not will it, he does not move. If he does not wish it, he does not act. If all the world praises him, he pays no attention. If all the world blames him, he does not complain.
This reminds us of the philosopher Yung in ch. i.
The praise and the blame of the world neither advantage him nor otherwise. He may be called a man of perfect virtue. As for me, I am but a mere creature of impulse."
The world's praise and blame neither help nor harm him. He may be called a man of perfect virtue. As for me, I am merely a creature of impulse."
So he went back to Lu to tell Confucius. But Confucius said, "That fellow pretends to a knowledge of the science of the ante-mundane. He knows something, but not much. His government is of the internal, not of the external. What is there wonderful in a man by clearness of intelligence becoming pure, by inaction reverting to his original integrity, and with his nature and his spiritual part wrapped up in a body, passing through this common world of ours? Besides, to you and to me the science of the ante-mundane is not worth knowing."
So he went back to Lu to tell Confucius. But Confucius said, "That fellow claims to know the science of the ante-mundane. He knows something, but not much. He governs what is within, not what is outside. What is so wonderful about a man becoming pure through clear intelligence and returning to his original wholeness through inaction? What is so wonderful about him passing through our common world, with his nature and spirit contained in a body? Besides, the science of the ante-mundane is not worth knowing for either of us."
Only the present concerns people.
Confucius might well have said this. But the whole episode was clearly added later.
As Chun Mang was starting eastwards to the ocean, he fell in with Yüan Fêng on the shore of the eastern sea.
As Chun Mang was setting out east toward the ocean, he met Yüan Fêng on the shore of the eastern sea.
These names are probably allegorical, but it is hard to say exactly what they represent.
"Whither bound?" cried the latter.
"Where are you going?" cried the latter.
"I am going to the ocean," replied Chun Mang.
"I'm going to the ocean," Chun Mang replied.
"What are you going to do there?" asked Yüan Fêng.
"What are you going to do there?" asked Yüan Fêng.
"The ocean," said Chun Mang, "is a thing you cannot fill by pouring in, nor empty by taking out. I am simply on a trip."
"The ocean," said Chun Mang, "cannot be filled by pouring water into it or emptied by taking water out. I'm simply on a trip."
You cannot do anything to the infinite.
"But surely you have intentions with regard to the straight-browed people?... Come, tell me how the Sage governs."
"But surely you have plans for the straight-browed people?... Come, tell me how the Sage governs."
One commentator says the straight-browed people (lit. horizontal-eyed) were "savages."
"Oh, the government of the Sage," answered Chun Mang. "The officials confine themselves to their functions. Ability is secure of employment. The voice of the people is heard, and action is taken accordingly. Men's words and deeds are their own affairs, and so the empire is at peace. A beck or a call, and the people flock together from all sides. This is how the Sage governs."
"Oh, the Sage's government," Chun Mang answered. "Officials stick to their duties. Capable people are sure to find work. The people's voices are heard, and action is taken accordingly. What people say and do is their own affair, so the empire is at peace. At a gesture or a call, people flock together from all sides. This is how the Sage governs."
"Tell me about the man of perfect virtue," said Yüan Fêng.
"Tell me about a man of perfect virtue," said Yüan Fêng.
"The man of perfect virtue," replied Chun Mang, "in repose has no thoughts, in action no anxiety. He recognises no right, nor wrong, nor good, nor bad. Within the Four Seas, when all profit—that is his pleasure; when all share—that is his repose. Men cling to him as children who have lost their mothers; they rally round him as wayfarers who have missed their road. He has wealth and to spare, but he knows not whence it comes. He has food and drink more than sufficient, but knows not who provides it. Such is a man of virtue."
"The person of perfect virtue," replied Chun Mang, "has no thoughts at rest and no anxiety in action. He recognizes neither right nor wrong, neither good nor bad. When everyone within the Four Seas benefits, he is pleased. When everyone shares, he is at peace. People cling to him like children who have lost their mothers. They gather around him like travelers who have lost their way. He has wealth to spare, but he does not know where it comes from. He has more than enough food and drink, but he does not know who provides them. Such is a person of virtue."
"And now," said Yüan Fêng, "tell me about the divine man."
“And now,” said Yüan Fêng, “tell me about the divine man.”
"The divine man," replied Chun Mang, "rides upon the glory of the sky where his form can no longer be discerned. This is called absorption into light. He fulfils his destiny. He acts in accordance with his nature. He is at one with God and man. For him all affairs cease to exist, and all things revert to their original state. This is called envelopment in darkness."
"The divine man," Chun Mang replied, "rides on the glory of the sky, where his form can no longer be seen. This is called absorption into light. He fulfills his destiny. He acts according to his nature. He is one with God and humanity. For him, all affairs cease to exist, and all things return to their original state. This is called envelopment in darkness."
Mên Wu Kuei and Ch'ih Chang Man Chi were looking at Wu Wang's troops.
Mên Wu Kuei and Ch'ih Chang Man Chi were looking at Wu Wang's troops.
The famous founder of the Chou dynasty, B.C. 1169-1116.
"He is not equal to the Great Yü," said the latter; and consequently "we are involved in all these troubles."
"He is not as great as the Great Yü," said the latter, and so "we are caught up in all these troubles."
"May I ask," replied Mên Wu Kuei, "if the empire was under proper government when the Great Yü began to govern it, or had he first to quell disorder and then to proceed to government?"
"May I ask," replied Mên Wu Kuei, "was the empire properly governed when the Great Yü began to rule? Or did he first have to put down disorder before he could govern?"
"If the empire had all been under proper government," said the other, "what would there have been for the Great Yü to do? He was as ointment to a sore. Only bald men use wigs; only sick people want doctors. And the Sage blushes when a filial son, with anxious look, administers medicine to cure his loving father.
"If the whole empire had been properly governed," said the other, "what would the Great Yü have had to do? He was like ointment on a sore. Only bald men wear wigs. Only sick people need doctors. And the Sage blushes when a devoted son anxiously gives his loving father medicine to cure him.
Because the father must have been sick to need medicine. And from a Chinese point of view, his illness is clearly the son's fault.
"In the Golden Age, good men were not appreciated; ability was not conspicuous. Rulers were mere beacons, while the people were free as the wild deer. They were upright without being conscious of duty to their neighbours. They loved one another without being conscious of charity. They were true without being conscious of loyalty. They were honest without being conscious of good faith. They acted freely in all things without recognising obligations to any one. Thus, their deeds left no trace; their affairs were not handed down to posterity.
"In the Golden Age, good people were not valued, and ability did not stand out. Rulers were merely beacons, while the people were as free as wild deer. They did what was right without thinking of duty to their neighbors. They loved one another without thinking of charity. They were faithful without thinking of loyalty. They were honest without thinking of good faith. They acted freely in everything, without feeling obligated to anyone. So their deeds left no trace, and their affairs were not passed down to later generations.
In Du Contrat Social, Rousseau describes society as it would be if every man were a true Christian: "Chacun remplirait son devoir; le peuple serait soumis aux lois, les chefs seraient justes et modérés, les magistrats intègres, incorruptibles, les soldats mépriseraient la mort, il n'y aurait ni vanité ni luxe."
"A filial son does not humour his parents. A loyal minister does not flatter his prince. This is the acme of filial piety and loyalty. To assent to whatever a parent or a prince says, and to praise whatever a parent or a prince does, this is what the world calls unfilial and disloyal conduct, though apparently unaware that the principle is of universal application. For though a man assents to whatever the world says, and praises whatever the world does, he is not dubbed a toady; from which one might infer that the world is severer than a father and more to be respected than a prince!
"A dutiful son does not indulge his parents. A loyal minister does not flatter his prince. This is the highest form of duty and loyalty. The world calls it undutiful and disloyal to agree with everything a parent or prince says and praise everything they do. Yet the world seems unaware that the same principle applies everywhere. For a man who agrees with everything the world says and praises everything it does is not called a flatterer. From this, one might infer that the world is stricter than a father and deserves more respect than a prince!"
"If you tell a man he is a wheedler, he will not like it. If you tell him he is a flatterer, he will be angry. Yet he is everlastingly both. But all such sham and pretence is what the world likes, and consequently people do not punish each other for doing what they do themselves. For a man to arrange his dress, or make a display, or suit his expression so as to get into the good graces of the world, and yet not to call himself a flatterer; to identify himself in every way with the yeas and nays of his fellows, and yet not call himself one of them;—this is the height of folly.
"If you tell a man he manipulates people, he will not like it. If you tell him he flatters people, he will be angry. Yet he is always doing both. But the world likes all such dishonesty and pretense. So people do not punish each other for doing what they do themselves. A man may arrange his clothes, show off, or change his expression to win the world's approval. Yet he does not call himself a flatterer. He may agree with his fellows in everything they approve or disapprove of. Yet he does not call himself one of them. This is the height of folly.
"A man who knows that he is a fool is not a great fool. A man who knows his error is not greatly in error. Great error can never be shaken off; a great fool never becomes clear-headed. If three men are travelling and one man makes a mistake, they may still arrive at their destination, error being in the minority. But if two of them make a mistake, then they will not succeed, error being in the majority. And now, as all the world is in error, I, though I know the true path, am alas! unable to guide.
“A man who knows he is a fool is not a great fool. A man who recognizes his mistake is not greatly mistaken. A great error can never be shaken off. A great fool never becomes clear-headed. If three men are traveling and one makes a mistake, they may still reach their destination because only one is mistaken. But if two of them make a mistake, they will not succeed because most of them are mistaken. Now all the world is mistaken. Though I know the true path, sadly, I cannot guide them.”
"Grand music does not appeal to vulgar ears. Give them the Chê-yang or the Huang-hua, and they will roar with laughter. And likewise great truths do not take hold of the hearts of the masses. And great truths not finding utterance, common-places carry the day. Two earthen instruments will drown the sound of one metal one; and the result will not be melodious.
"Great music does not appeal to ordinary ears. Give ordinary people the Chê-yang or the Huang-hua, and they will roar with laughter. Likewise, great truths do not take hold in the hearts of the masses. And when great truths go unspoken, commonplace ideas prevail. Two earthen instruments will drown out the sound of one metal instrument, and the result will not be melodious.
The "Not for Joseph" and "Sally Come Up" of ancient China.
"And now, as all the world is in error, I, though I know the true path,—how shall I guide? If I know that I cannot succeed and yet try to force success, this would be but another source of error. Better, then, to desist and strive no more. But if I strive not, who will?
"Now the whole world is mistaken. Though I know the true path, how can I guide others? If I know I cannot succeed but still try to force success, that would only lead to another error. It would be better to stop and try no more. But if I do not try, who will?
"An ugly man who has a son born to him in the middle of the night will hurry up with a light, in dread lest the child should be like himself.
"When an ugly man's son is born in the middle of the night, he hurries over with a light. He fears the child will look like him.
"An old tree is cut down to make sacrificial vessels, which are then ornamented with colour. The stump remains in a ditch. The sacrificial vessels and the stump in the ditch are very differently treated as regards honour and dishonour; equally, as far as destruction of the woods original nature is concerned. Similarly, the acts of Robber Chê and of Tsêng and Shih are very different; but the loss of original nature is in each case the same.
"An old tree is cut down to make sacrificial vessels, which are then decorated with color. The stump remains in a ditch. The vessels are honored, while the stump in the ditch is treated with dishonor. Yet the wood’s original nature has been destroyed equally in both. Similarly, the acts of Robber Chê and those of Tsêng and Shih are very different. But in each case, the loss of original nature is the same."
"The causes of this loss are five in number; viz.—The five colours confuse the eye, and the eyes fail to see clearly. The five sounds confuse the ear, and the ear fails to hear accurately. The five scents confuse the nose, and obstruct the sense of smell. The five tastes cloy the palate, and vitiate the sense of taste. Finally, likes and dislikes cloud the understanding, and cause dispersion of the original nature.
"There are five causes of this loss. The five colors confuse the eyes, so they cannot see clearly. The five sounds confuse the ears, so they cannot hear accurately. The five scents confuse the nose and impair the sense of smell. The five tastes overwhelm the palate and spoil the sense of taste. Finally, likes and dislikes cloud the understanding and scatter one's original nature.
"These five are the banes of life; yet Yang and Mih regarded them as the summum bonum.
"These five things are harmful to life. Yet Yang and Mih regarded them as the highest good.
As attaining Tao. For Yang Chu and Mih Tzu, see chs. ii and viii.
They are not my summum bonum. For if men who are thus fettered can be said to have attained the summum bonum, then pigeons and owls in a cage may also be said to have attained the summum bonum!
They are not my highest good. If people who are trapped like this can be said to have attained the highest good, then pigeons and owls in a cage may also be said to have attained the highest good!
"Besides, to stuff one's inside with likes and dislikes and sounds and colours; to encompass one's outside with fur caps, feather hats, the carrying of tablets, or girding of sashes—full of rubbish inside while swathed in magnificence without—and still to talk of having attained the summum bonum;—then the prisoner with arms tied behind him and fingers in the squeezer, the tiger or the leopard which has just been put in a cage, may justly consider that they too have attained the summum bonum!"
"Besides, suppose someone fills their mind with likes and dislikes, sounds and colors. They surround themselves with fur caps, feather hats, ceremonial tablets, and sashes. They are full of rubbish inside but wrapped in splendor outside, yet they claim to have attained the highest good. Then a prisoner with arms tied behind their back and fingers in a squeezer may rightly claim the same. So may a tiger or leopard that has just been put in a cage claim to have attained the highest good!"
"L'homme," says Rousseau (op. cit.), "est né libre, et partout il est dans les fers."
This chapter, as it stands, was clearly not written by Chuang Tzŭ. One critic rightly points out that its arguments and examples lack a logical order. Another acknowledges that the style is generally refined, but notes that the thinking is superficial in some parts. "Yet only those," he adds, "who eat and sleep with their Chuang Tzŭs would be able to detect this."