God's Tao

The Tao of God operates ceaselessly; and all things are produced. The Tao of the sovereign operates ceaselessly; and the empire rallies around him. The Tao of the Sage operates ceaselessly; and all within the limit of surrounding ocean acknowledge his sway. He who apprehends God, who is in relation with the Sage, and who recognises the radiating virtue of the sovereign,—his actions will be to him unconscious, the actions of repose.¹

The Tao of God works without ceasing, and all things are produced. The Tao of the sovereign works without ceasing, and the empire rallies around him. The Tao of the Sage works without ceasing. All within the surrounding ocean acknowledge his rule. A person who understands God, is in touch with the Sage, and recognizes the sovereign’s radiating virtue acts without conscious effort. Such actions are actions of repose.¹

The repose of the Sage is not what the world calls repose. His repose is the result of his mental attitude. All creation could not disturb his equilibrium: hence his repose.

The Sage’s peace is not what most people call peace. It comes from his state of mind. Nothing in all creation could disturb his balance. That is why he is at peace.

When water is still, it is like a mirror, reflecting the beard and the eyebrows. It gives the accuracy of the water-level, and the philosopher makes it his model. And if water thus derives lucidity from stillness, how much more the faculties of the mind? The mind of the Sage being in repose becomes the mirror of the universe, the speculum of all creation.

When water is still, it is like a mirror, reflecting a beard and eyebrows. It shows whether a surface is level, and the philosopher takes it as a model. If water becomes clear through stillness, how much more can the faculties of the mind? When the Sage’s mind is at rest, it becomes a mirror of the universe, reflecting all creation.

Repose, tranquillity, stillness, inaction,—these were the levels of the universe, the ultimate perfection of Tao.²

Rest, calm, stillness, and inaction were the levels of the universe and the ultimate perfection of Tao.²

Therefore wise rulers and Sages rest therein. Resting therein they reach the unconditioned, from which springs the conditioned; and with the conditioned comes order.³

Therefore, wise rulers and sages rest in it. By resting there, they reach the unconditioned. The conditioned springs from the unconditioned, and with it comes order.³

Again, from the unconditioned comes repose, and from repose comes movement,⁴ and from movement comes attainment. Further, from repose comes inaction, and from inaction comes potentiality of action.⁵

Again, repose comes from the unconditioned, and movement comes from repose.⁴ Movement, in turn, leads to attainment. Repose also leads to inaction, and inaction creates the potential for action.⁵

And inaction is happiness; and where there is happiness no cares can abide, and life is long.

Inaction is happiness. And where there is happiness, there are no worries, and life is long.

Repose, tranquillity, stillness, inaction,—these were the source of all things. Due perception of this was the secret of Yao's success as a ruler, and of Shun's success as his minister. Due perception of this constitutes the virtue of sovereigns on the throne, the Tao of the inspired Sage and of the uncrowned King below. Keep to this in retirement, and the lettered denizens of sea and dale will recognise your power. Keep to this when coming forward to pacify a troubled world, and your merit shall be great and your name illustrious, and the empire united into one. In your repose you will be wise; in your movements, powerful. By inaction you will gain honour; and by confining yourself to the pure and simple, you will hinder the whole world from struggling with you for show.

Rest, calm, stillness, and inaction were the source of all things. Understanding this was the secret of Yao's success as a ruler and Shun's success as his minister. This understanding is the virtue of sovereigns on the throne. It is also the Tao of the inspired Sage and the uncrowned King among the people. Hold to it in retirement, and the learned people of sea and valley will recognize your power. Hold to it when you come forward to bring peace to a troubled world. Then your merit will be great, your name honored, and the empire united as one. At rest, you will be wise. In action, you will be powerful. Through inaction, you will gain honor. By keeping to what is pure and simple, you will prevent the whole world from competing with you in outward show.

To fully apprehend the scheme of the universe,⁶ this is called the great secret of being in accord with God, whereby the empire is so administered that the result is accord with man. To be in accord with man is human happiness; to be in accord with God is the happiness of God.

Fully understanding the order of the universe⁶ is called the great secret of being in harmony with God. Through this harmony, the empire is governed in a way that brings it into harmony with people. Harmony with people is human happiness. Harmony with God is the happiness of God.

Chuang Tzŭ said, "O my exemplar! Thou who destroyest all things, and dost not account it cruelty; thou who benefitest all time, and dost not account it charity; thou who art older than antiquity and dost not account it age; thou who supportest the universe, shaping the many forms therein, and dost not account it skill;—this is the happiness of God!"

Chuang Tzŭ said, "Oh, my model! You destroy all things, yet do not consider it cruel. You benefit all time, yet do not consider it charity. You are older than antiquity, yet do not consider yourself old. You support the universe and shape its many forms, yet do not consider it skill. This is the happiness of God!"

Therefore it has been said, "Those who enjoy the happiness of God, when born into the world, are but fulfilling their divine functions; when they die, they do but undergo a physical change. In repose, they exert the influence of the Negative; in motion, they wield the power of the Positive."⁷

Therefore, it has been said, "Those who enjoy God's happiness simply fulfill their divine functions when they are born into the world. When they die, they merely undergo a physical change. At rest, they exert the influence of the Negative. In motion, they wield the power of the Positive."⁷

Thus, those who enjoy the happiness of God have no grievance against God, no grudge against man. Nothing material injures them; nothing spiritual punishes them. Accordingly it has been said, "Their motion is that of heaven;⁸ their repose is that of earth. Mental equilibrium gives them the empire of the world. Evil spirits do not harass them without; demons do not trouble them within. Mental equilibrium gives them sovereignty over all creation." Which signifies that in repose to extend to the whole universe and to be in relation with all creation,—this is the happiness of God. This enables the mind of the Sage to cherish the whole empire.

Thus, those who enjoy the happiness of God have no complaint against God and no grudge against anyone. Nothing material can harm them, and nothing spiritual can punish them. As it has been said, "They move like heaven⁸ and rest like earth. Their mental balance gives them rule over the whole world. Evil spirits do not harass them from outside, and demons do not trouble them within. Their mental balance gives them sovereignty over all creation." This means that the happiness of God is to reach the whole universe in stillness and be connected with all creation. This happiness enables the Sage's mind to cherish the whole empire.

For the virtue of the wise ruler is modelled upon the universe, is guided by Tao, and is ever occupied in inaction. By inaction, he administers the empire, and has energy to spare; but by action he finds his energy inadequate to the administration of the empire. Therefore the men of old set great store by inaction.

The wise ruler’s virtue is modeled on the universe and guided by Tao. He is always engaged in inaction. Through inaction, he governs the empire with energy to spare. But through action, he finds he lacks the energy to govern it. Therefore, people in ancient times placed great value on inaction.

But if rulers practise inaction and the ruled also practise inaction, the ruled will equal the rulers, and will not be as their subjects. On the other hand, if the ruled practise action and rulers also practise action, rulers will assimilate themselves to the ruled, and will not be as their masters. Rulers must practise inaction in order to administer the empire. The ruled must practise action in order to subserve the interests of the empire. This is an unchangeable law.⁹

But if both rulers and their subjects practice inaction, the subjects will be equal to the rulers, not subordinate to them. On the other hand, if both subjects and rulers practice action, the rulers will become like their subjects, not their masters. Rulers must practice inaction to govern the empire. Subjects must practice action to serve the empire’s interests. This law cannot be changed.⁹

Thus, the men of old, although their knowledge did not extend throughout the universe, were not troubled in mind. Although their intellectual powers beautified all creation, they did not rejoice. Although their abilities exhausted all things within the limits of ocean, they did not act.

So the people of old were not troubled, although their knowledge did not reach throughout the universe. Although their intellect beautified all creation, they did not rejoice. Although their abilities encompassed everything within the oceans, they did not act.

Heaven has no parturitions, yet all things are evolved. Earth knows no increment, yet all things are nourished. The wise ruler practises inaction, and the empire applauds him. Therefore it has been said, "There is nothing more mysterious¹⁰ than heaven, nothing richer than earth, nothing greater than the wise ruler." Wherefore also it has been said, "The virtue of the wise ruler makes him the peer of heaven and earth." Charioted upon the universe, with all creation for his team, he passes along the highway of mortality.

Heaven gives birth to nothing, yet all things come into being. Earth gains nothing, yet all things are nourished. The wise ruler acts without intervening, and the whole empire applauds him. Therefore, it has been said, "Nothing is more mysterious¹⁰ than heaven, nothing richer than earth, and nothing greater than the wise ruler." It has also been said, "The wise ruler's virtue makes him equal to heaven and earth." Riding in a chariot made of the universe, with all creation as his team, he travels along the road of mortal life.

The essential is in the ruler; the accidental in the ruled.¹¹

What is essential lies in the ruler, and what is incidental lies in those who are ruled.¹¹

The ultima ratio lies with the prince; representation is the duty of the minister.

The prince has the final say. The minister’s duty is to represent.

Appeal to arms is the lowest form of virtue. Rewards and punishments are the lowest form of education. Ceremonies and laws are the lowest form of government. Music and fine clothes are the lowest form of happiness. Weeping and mourning are the lowest form of grief. These five should follow the movements of the mind.

Using weapons is the lowest form of virtue. Rewards and punishments are the lowest form of education. Ceremonies and laws are the lowest form of government. Music and fine clothes are the lowest form of happiness. Crying and mourning are the lowest form of grief. These five should follow the movements of the mind.

The ancients indeed cultivated the study of accidentals, but they did not allow it to precede that of essentials. The prince precedes, the minister follows. The father precedes, the son follows. The elder brother precedes, the younger follows. Seniors precede, juniors follow. Men precede, women follow. Husbands precede, wives follow. Distinctions of rank and precedence are part of the scheme of the universe, and the Sage adopts them accordingly. In point of spirituality, heaven is honourable, earth is lowly. Spring and summer precede autumn and winter: such is the order of the seasons. In the constant production of all things, there are phases of existence. There are the extremes of maturity and decay, the perpetual tide of change. And if heaven and earth, divinest of all, admit of rank and precedence, how much more man?

The ancients studied secondary matters, but they did not put them before what was essential. The prince comes first, the minister follows. The father comes first, the son follows. The older brother comes first, the younger follows. Elders come first, juniors follow. Men come first, women follow. Husbands come first, wives follow. Distinctions of rank and precedence are part of the order of the universe, and the Sage follows them accordingly. In spiritual terms, heaven is honored, and earth is lowly. Spring and summer come before autumn and winter. That is the order of the seasons. As all things are continually brought into being, they pass through phases of existence. Maturity and decay are the extremes of a constant tide of change. And if heaven and earth, the most divine of all things, have rank and precedence, how much more do human beings?

In the ancestral temple, parents rank before all; at court, the most honourable; in the village, the elders; in matters to be accomplished, the most trustworthy. Such is the order which appertains to Tao. He who in considering Tao disregards this order, thereby disregards Tao; and he who in considering Tao disregards Tao,—whence will he secure Tao?

In the ancestral temple, parents rank before all others. At court, the most honored rank first. In the village, the elders rank first. When something must be done, the most trustworthy rank first. This is the order of Tao. Anyone who disregards this order when considering Tao disregards Tao itself. And if someone disregards Tao when considering it, how can they find Tao?

Therefore, those of old who apprehended Tao, first apprehended God. Tao came next, and then charity and duty to one's neighbour, and then the functions of public life, and then forms and names, and then employment according to capacity, and then distinctions of good and bad, and then discrimination between right and wrong, and then rewards and punishments. Thus wise men and fools met with their dues; the exalted and the humble occupied their proper places. And the virtuous and the worthless being each guided by their own natural instincts, it was necessary to distinguish capabilities, and to adopt a corresponding nomenclature, in order to serve the ruler, nourish the ruled, administer things generally, and elevate self. Where knowledge and plans are of no avail, one must fall back upon the natural. This is perfect peace, the acme of good government. Therefore it has been written, "Wherever there is form, there is also its name." Forms and names indeed the ancients had, but did not give precedence to them.

Therefore, people in ancient times who understood Tao first understood God. Next came Tao, then charity and duty to one’s neighbor, then the work of public life. After that came forms and names, then assigning work according to ability, then distinctions between good and bad. Next came judgments of right and wrong, and finally rewards and punishments. In this way, wise people and fools received what they deserved. The exalted and the humble each occupied their proper places. Both the virtuous and the worthless were guided by their own natural instincts. So it was necessary to distinguish their abilities and give them corresponding names. This served the ruler, supported the people, helped manage affairs, and elevated the self. Where knowledge and plans are of no use, one must turn to what is natural. This is perfect peace, the height of good government. Therefore it has been written, "Wherever there is form, there is also its name." The ancients did indeed have forms and names, but they did not put them first.

Thus, those of old who considered Tao, passed through five phases before forms and names were reached, and nine before rewards and punishments could be discussed.¹²

Those who studied Tao in ancient times passed through five stages before reaching forms and names. They passed through nine stages before they could discuss rewards and punishments.¹²

To rise per saltum to forms and names is to be ignorant of their source; to rise per saltum to rewards and punishments is to be ignorant of their beginning. Those who invert the process of discussing Tao, arguing in a directly contrary sense, are rather to be governed by others than able to govern others themselves.

To leap directly to forms and names is to be ignorant of their source. To leap directly to rewards and punishments is to be ignorant of their beginning. Some people discuss Tao in reverse, arguing in exactly the opposite direction. They are better suited to being governed by others than to governing others themselves.

To rise per saltum to forms and names and rewards and punishments, this is to understand the instrumental part of government, but not to understand the great principle of government.¹³

To jump straight to forms and names, rewards and punishments is to understand the tools of government, but not its great principle.¹³

This is to be of use in the administration of the empire, but not to be able to administer the empire. This is to be a sciolist, a man of narrow views.

This means being useful in governing the empire, but not being able to govern it. It is the mark of a person with superficial knowledge and narrow views.

Ceremonies and laws were indeed cultivated by the ancients; but they were employed in the service of the rulers by the ruled. Rulers did not employ them as a means of nourishing the ruled.¹⁴

The ancients did develop ceremonies and laws. But the people used them to serve their rulers. Rulers did not use them to support the people.¹⁴

Of old, Shun asked Yao, saying, "How does your Majesty employ your faculties?"

Long ago, Shun asked Yao, "Your Majesty, how do you use your abilities?"

"I am not arrogant towards the defenceless," replied Yao. "I do not neglect the poor. I grieve for those who die. I pity the orphan. I sympathise with the widow. Beyond this, nothing."

"I do not act arrogantly toward those who cannot defend themselves," Yao replied. "I do not neglect the poor. I grieve for those who die. I feel pity for orphans. I sympathize with widows. That is all."

"Good indeed!" cried Shun, "but yet not great."

"Very good!" cried Shun, "but not great."

"How so?" inquired Yao.

"How so?" asked Yao.

"Be passive," said Shun, "like the virtue of God. The sun and moon shine; the four seasons revolve; day and night alternate; clouds come and rain falls."

"Be passive," Shun said, "like the virtue of God. The sun and moon shine. The four seasons come and go. Day and night take turns. Clouds gather and rain falls."

"Alas!" cried Yao, "what a muddle I have been making. You are in accord with God; I am in accord with man."

"Oh no!" cried Yao, "what a mess I have made. You are in harmony with God. I am in harmony with people."

Of old, heaven and earth were considered great; and the Yellow Emperor and Yao and Shun all thought them perfection. Consequently, what did those do who ruled the empire of old? They did what heaven and earth do; no more.

In ancient times, heaven and earth were considered great. The Yellow Emperor, Yao, and Shun all thought heaven and earth were perfect. So what did those who ruled the empire in ancient times do? They did what heaven and earth do, and nothing more.

When Confucius was going west to place his works in the Imperial library of the House of Chou, Tzŭ Lu¹⁵ counselled him, saying, "I have heard that a certain librarian of the Chêng department, by name Lao Tan,¹⁶ has resigned and retired into private life. Now as you, Sir, wish to deposit your works, it would be advisable to go and interview him."

Confucius was traveling west to place his works in the Imperial library of the House of Chou. Tzŭ Lu¹⁵ advised him, saying, "I have heard that a librarian of the Chêng department named Lao Tan¹⁶ has resigned and retired into private life. Since you wish to deposit your works, Sir, you should go and speak with him."

"Certainly," said Confucius; and he thereupon went to see Lao Tzŭ. The latter would not hear of the proposal; so Confucius began to expound the doctrines of his twelve canons, in order to convince Lao Tzŭ.¹⁷

"Certainly," said Confucius. He then went to see Lao Tzŭ, who refused to consider the proposal. So Confucius began explaining the teachings of his twelve canons to convince Lao Tzŭ.¹⁷

"This is all nonsense," cried Lao Tzŭ, interrupting him. "Tell me what are your criteria."

"This is all nonsense," Lao Tzŭ cried, interrupting him. "Tell me what your criteria are."

"Charity," replied Confucius, "and duty towards one's neighbour."

"Kindness," Confucius replied, "and doing your duty to others."

"Tell me, please," asked Lao Tzŭ, "are these part of man's original nature?"¹⁸

"Please tell me," asked Lao Tzŭ, "are these part of human nature from birth?"¹⁸

"They are," answered Confucius. "Without charity, the superior man could not become what he is. Without duty to one's neighbour, he would be of no effect. These two belong to the original nature of a pure man. What further would you have?"

"They are," Confucius replied. "Without compassion, a superior man could not become who he is. Without duty to others, he could accomplish nothing. Both are part of a pure man's original nature. What more do you want?"

"Tell me," said Lao Tzŭ, "in what consist charity and duty to one's neighbour?"

"Tell me," said Lao Tzŭ, "what are charity and duty to one's neighbor?"

"They consist," answered Confucius, "in a capacity for rejoicing in all things; in universal love, without the element of self. These are the characteristics of charity and duty to one's neighbour."

"They consist," Confucius answered, "in the ability to rejoice in all things and love everyone without self-interest. These are the qualities of charity and duty to others."

"What stuff!" cried Lao Tzŭ. "Does not universal love contradict itself?¹⁹

"What nonsense!" cried Lao Tzŭ. "Doesn't universal love contradict itself?¹⁹

Is not your elimination of self a positive manifestation of self?²⁰

Isn't your attempt to eliminate the self itself an expression of the self?²⁰

Sir, if you would cause the empire not to lose its source of nourishment,—there is the universe, its regularity is unceasing; there are the sun and moon, their brightness is unceasing; there are the stars, their groupings never change; there are birds and beasts, they flock together without varying; there are trees and shrubs, they grow upwards without exception, Be like these; follow Tao; and you will be perfect. Why then these vain struggles after charity and duty to one's neighbour, as though beating a drum in search of a fugitive. Alas! Sir, you have brought much confusion into the mind of man."²¹

Sir, if you want to keep the empire from losing its source of nourishment, consider the universe. Its order never stops. The sun and moon never stop shining. The stars never change their groupings. Birds and beasts always gather in flocks and herds. Trees and shrubs all grow upward. Be like these. Follow Tao, and you will be perfect. Why, then, struggle in vain to practice charity and duty toward your neighbor? It is like beating a drum while searching for someone who has fled. Alas, sir, you have brought great confusion into the minds of people."²¹

Shih Ch'êng Ch'i²² visited Lao Tzŭ, and addressed him, saying, "Having heard, Sir, that you were a Sage, I put aside all thought of distance to come and visit you. Travelling many stages, the soles of my feet thickened, but I did not venture to rest. And now I see you are not a Sage. While rats feasted off your leavings, you turned your sister out of doors. This is not charity. Though you have no lack of food, raw and cooked, you are stingy beyond all bounds."

Shih Ch'êng Ch'i²² visited Lao Tzŭ and said to him, "Sir, I heard that you were a Sage. I gave no thought to the distance and came to visit you. I traveled many stages, and the soles of my feet grew thick, but I did not dare rest. Now I see that you are not a Sage. While rats feasted on your leftovers, you turned your sister out of the house. That is not charity. Though you have plenty of food, both raw and cooked, you are stingy beyond all bounds."

At this Lao Tzŭ was silent and made no reply; and the next day Shih Ch'êng Ch'i came again and said, "Before, I was rude to you; now, I am sorry. How is this?"

Lao Tzŭ remained silent and did not reply. The next day, Shih Ch'êng Ch'i came again and said, "Earlier, I was rude to you. Now I am sorry. Why is that?"

"I have no pretension," replied Lao Tzŭ, "to be possessed of cunning knowledge nor of divine wisdom. Had you yesterday called me an ox, I should have considered myself an ox. Had you called me a horse, I should have considered myself a horse.

"I do not claim to possess clever knowledge or divine wisdom," replied Lao Tzŭ. "If you had called me an ox yesterday, I would have considered myself an ox. If you had called me a horse, I would have considered myself a horse.

"For if men class you in accordance with truth, and you reject the classification, you only double the reproach. My humility is natural humility. It is not humility for humility's sake."

"For if people judge you accurately, and you reject their judgment, you only double the criticism. My humility comes naturally. I am not humble for humility's sake."

Shih Ch'êng Ch'i moved respectfully away.²³

Shih Ch'êng Ch'i respectfully moved away.²³

Then he advanced again, also respectfully, and said, "May I ask you about personal cultivation?"

Then he stepped forward again and asked respectfully, "May I ask you about personal cultivation?"

Lao Tzŭ said, "Your countenance is a strange one. Your eyes protrude. Your jaws are heavy. Your lips are parted. Your demeanour is self-satisfied. You look like a man on a tethered horse.²⁴

Lao Tzŭ said, "You have a strange face. Your eyes bulge. Your jaw is heavy. Your lips are parted. You look pleased with yourself. You look like a man on a tethered horse.²⁴

You are too confident. You are too hasty. You think too much of your own powers. Such men are not trusted. Those who are found on the wrong side of a boundary line are called thieves."

You are too confident. You are too hasty. You think too highly of your own abilities. People do not trust men like that. Those found on the wrong side of a boundary are called thieves."

Lao Tzŭ said, "Tao is not too small for the greatest, nor too great for the smallest. Thus all things are embosomed therein; wide indeed its boundless capacity, unfathomable its depth.

Lao Tzŭ said, "Tao is not too small for the greatest things, nor too great for the smallest. Thus it holds all things within it. Its capacity is boundless, and its depth cannot be measured.

"Form, and virtue, and charity, and duty to one's neighbour, these are the accidentals of the spiritual. Except he be a perfect man, who shall determine their place? The world of the perfect man, is not that vast? And yet it is not able to involve him in trouble. All struggle for power, but he does not join. Though discovering nothing false, he is not tempted astray. In spite of the utmost genuineness, he still confines himself to essentials.²⁵

"Form, virtue, charity, and duty to one's neighbor are secondary aspects of the spiritual. Who but a perfect person can determine their place? How vast is the world of the perfect person! Yet it cannot cause him trouble. All struggle for power, but he does not join them. Though he finds nothing false, he is not led astray. Despite the utmost genuineness, he still keeps to what is essential.²⁵

"He thus places himself outside the universe, beyond all creation, where his soul is free from care. Apprehending Tao, he is in accord with virtue. He leaves charity and duty to one's neighbour alone. He treats ceremonies and music as adventitious. And so the mind of the perfect man is at peace.

"In this way, he places himself outside the universe, beyond all creation, where his soul is free from care. Understanding Tao, he lives in harmony with virtue. He leaves charity and duty to one's neighbor alone. He regards ceremonies and music as incidental. And so the mind of the perfect man is at peace."

"Books are what the world values as representing Tao. But books are only words, and the valuable part of words is the thought therein contained. That thought has a certain bias which cannot be conveyed in words, yet the world values words as being the essence of books. But though the world values them, they are not of value; as that sense in which the world values them is not the sense in which they are valuable.

"People value books as expressions of Tao. But books are only words, and what matters in words is the thought they contain. That thought has a particular slant that words cannot express. Yet people value words as the essence of books. But although people value words, words are not valuable for the reason people think they are. Words are valuable in a different sense.

"That which can be seen with the eye is form and colour; that which can be heard with the ear is sound and noise. But alas! the people of this generation think that form, and colour, and sound, and noise, are means by which they can come to understand the essence of Tao. This is not so. And as those who know, do not speak, while those who speak do not know, whence should the world derive its knowledge?"²⁶

"What the eye can see is form and color. What the ear can hear is sound and noise. But alas! People today think they can understand the essence of Tao through form, color, sound, and noise. They cannot. And those who know do not speak, while those who speak do not know. So how can the world gain knowledge?"²⁶

Duke Huan²⁷ was one day reading in his hall, when a wheelwright who was working below,²⁸ flung down his hammer and chisel, and mounting the steps said, "What words may your Highness be studying?"

One day, Duke Huan²⁷ was reading in his hall. A wheelwright working below,²⁸ threw down his hammer and chisel. He climbed the steps and said, "What words are you reading, Your Highness?"

"I am studying the words of the Sages," replied the Duke.

“I am studying the words of the Sages,” the Duke replied.

"Are the Sages alive?" asked the wheelwright.

"Are the sages alive?" asked the wheelwright.

"No," answered the Duke; "they are dead."

"No," the Duke said. "They are dead."

"Then the words your Highness is studying," rejoined the wheelwright, "are only the dregs of the ancients."

"Then the words Your Highness is studying," the wheelwright replied, "are only the dregs of the ancients."

"What do you mean, sirrah!" cried the Duke, "by interfering with what I read? Explain yourself, or you shall die."

"What do you mean, you fool!" cried the Duke. "Why are you interfering with my reading? Explain yourself, or you will die."

"Let me take an illustration," said the wheelwright, "from my own trade. In making a wheel, if you work too slowly, you can't make it firm; if you work too fast, the spokes won't fit in. You must go neither too slowly nor too fast. There must be co-ordination of mind and hand. Words cannot explain what it is, but there is some mysterious art herein. I cannot teach it to my son; nor can he learn it from me. Consequently, though seventy years of age, I am still making wheels in my old age. If the ancients, together with what they could not impart, are dead and gone, then what your Highness is studying must be the dregs."²⁹

"Let me give you an example from my own trade," said the wheelwright. "When making a wheel, if you work too slowly, you can't make it firm. If you work too fast, the spokes won't fit. You must work neither too slowly nor too fast. Your mind and hands must work together. Words can't explain how to do it, but there is a mysterious art to it. I can't teach it to my son, and he can't learn it from me. So, although I am seventy years old, I am still making wheels. If the people of the past have died and taken what they couldn't pass on with them, then what Your Highness is studying must be the dregs."²⁹