Life's Secret

[This chapter is supplementary to chapter iii.]

[This chapter supplements chapter iii.]

Those who understand the conditions of life devote no attention to things which life cannot accomplish. Those who understand the conditions of destiny devote no attention to things over which knowledge has no control.

Those who understand the conditions of life pay no attention to things life cannot accomplish. Those who understand the conditions of destiny pay no attention to things knowledge cannot control.

For the due nourishment of our physical frames, certain things are needful. Yet where such things abound, the physical frame is not always nourished. For the preservation of life it is necessary that there should be no abandonment of the physical frame. Yet where the physical frame is not abandoned, life does not always remain.

Certain things are needed to nourish the body. Yet even when those things are plentiful, the body is not always nourished. To preserve life, we must not abandon the body. Yet even when the body is not abandoned, life does not always remain.

Life comes, and cannot be declined. It goes, and cannot be stopped. But alas! the world thinks that to nourish the frame is enough to keep life. And if indeed it is not enough, what then is the world to do?

Life comes, and we cannot refuse it. It goes, and we cannot stop it. But sadly, the world thinks that caring for the body is enough to keep life. And if caring for the body is not enough, what is the world to do?

Although not enough, it must still be done. It cannot be neglected. For if one is to neglect the physical frame, better far to retire at once from the world. By renouncing the world, one gets rid of the cares of the world. The result is a natural level, which is equivalent to a re-birth. And he who is re-born is near.¹

Although it is not enough, it still must be done. It cannot be neglected. For if you are going to neglect your body, it is far better to withdraw from the world at once. By giving up the world, you free yourself from its cares. The result is a natural balance, which is like being born again. And whoever is born again is near.¹

But what inducement is there to renounce the affairs of men, to become indifferent to life?—In the first case, the physical body suffers no wear and tear; in the second, the vitality is left unharmed. And he whose physical frame is perfect and whose vitality is in its original purity,—he is one with God.²

But why withdraw from human affairs and become indifferent to life? By withdrawing from human affairs, the body suffers no wear and tear. By becoming indifferent to life, a person’s vitality remains unharmed. And a person whose body is perfect and whose vitality remains in its original purity is one with God.²

Heaven and earth are the father and mother of all things. When they unite, the result is shape. When they disperse, the original condition is renewed.³

Heaven and earth are the father and mother of all things. When they come together, form takes shape. When they disperse, the original state returns.³

But if body and vitality are both perfect, this state is called fit for translation.⁴

But if both body and vitality are perfect, the state is called fit for translation.⁴

Such perfection of vitality goes back to be the minister of God.⁵

Such perfect vitality returns to serve God.⁵

Lieh Tzŭ asked Kuan Yin,⁶ saying, "The perfect man can walk through solid bodies without obstruction. He can pass through fire without being burnt. He can scale the highest heights without fear. How does he bring himself to this?"

Lieh Tzŭ asked Kuan Yin,⁶ "The perfect man can walk through solid objects without being stopped. He can pass through fire without being burned. He can climb to the greatest heights without fear. How does he do these things?"

"It is because he is in a condition of absolute purity," replied Kuan Yin. "It is not cunning which enables him to dare such feats. Be seated, and I will tell you.

"It is because he is completely pure," replied Kuan Yin. "It is not cunning that enables him to dare such feats. Sit down, and I will tell you.

"All that has form, sound, and colour, may be classed under the head thing. Man differs so much from the rest, and stands at the head of all things, simply because the latter are but what they appear and nothing more. But man can attain to formlessness and vanquish death. And with that which is in possession of the eternal, how can mere things compare?

"Everything that has form, sound, and color may be classified as a thing. Humans differ greatly from everything else and stand above all things. This is simply because other things are only what they appear to be, and nothing more. But humans can become formless and overcome death. How can mere things compare with what possesses the eternal?

"Man may rest in the eternal fitness; he may abide in the everlasting; and roam from the beginning to the end of all creation. He may bring his nature to a condition of ONE; he may nourish his strength; he may harmonize his virtue, and so put himself into partnership with God. Then, when his divinity is thus assured, and his spirit closed in on all sides, how can anything find a passage within?⁷

"Man may rest in eternal harmony. He may dwell in what lasts forever and roam from the beginning to the end of all creation. He may bring his nature into a state of ONE. He may nourish his strength and bring his virtue into harmony, becoming a partner with God. Then, when his divinity is assured and his spirit is closed on all sides, how can anything find a way in?⁷

"A drunken man who falls out of a cart, though he may suffer, does not die. His bones are the same as other people's; but he meets his accident in a different way. His spirit is in a condition of security. He is not conscious of riding in the cart; neither is he conscious of falling out of it. Ideas of life, death, fear, etc., cannot penetrate his breast; and so he does not suffer from contact with objective existences. And if such security is to be got from wine, how much more is it to be got from God. It is in God that the Sage seeks his refuge, and so he is free from harm.

"A drunk man who falls out of a cart may be hurt, but he does not die. His bones are the same as anyone else's, but he experiences the accident differently. His spirit is secure. He is unaware that he is riding in the cart or falling out of it. Thoughts of life, death, fear, and the like cannot enter his mind. So he does not suffer from contact with the world around him. And if wine can give him such security, how much more can God give him? The Sage seeks refuge in God, and so he is safe from harm.

"An avenger does not snap in twain the murderous weapon; neither does the most spiteful man carry his resentment to a tile which may have hit him on the head. And by the extension of this principle, the empire would be at peace; no more confusion of war, no more punishment of death.

"A person seeking revenge does not break the murder weapon in two. Even the most spiteful person does not resent a tile that may have hit him on the head. If this principle were extended, the empire would be at peace. There would be no more chaos of war and no more punishment by death."

"Do not develop your artificial intelligence, but develop that intelligence which is from God. From the latter, results virtue; from the former, cunning. And those who do not shrink from the natural, nor wallow in the artificial,—they are near to perfection."

"Do not develop intelligence through artificial means. Instead, develop the intelligence that comes from God. Intelligence from God produces virtue, while artificial intelligence produces cunning. Those who do not shy away from what is natural or immerse themselves in what is artificial are near perfection."

When Confucius was on his way to the Ch'u State, he came to a forest where he saw a hunchback catching cicadas as though with his hand.⁸

On his way to the Ch'u State, Confucius came to a forest. There he saw a hunchback catching cicadas as if he were catching them by hand.⁸

"How clever you are!" cried Confucius. "Have you any way of doing this?"⁹

"How clever you are!" cried Confucius. "Do you have a way to do this?"⁹

"I have a way," replied the hunchback. "In the fifth and sixth moons I practise balancing two balls one on top of the other.¹⁰

"I have a method," the hunchback replied. "During the fifth and sixth months, I practice balancing two balls, one on top of the other.¹⁰

If they do not fall, I do not miss many cicadas. When I can balance three balls, I only miss one in ten; and when five, then it is as though I caught the cicadas with my hand. My body is as motionless as the stump of a tree; my arms like dead branches. Heaven and earth and all creation may be around me, but I am conscious only of my cicada's wings. How should I not succeed?"

If they do not fall, I do not miss many cicadas. When I can balance three balls, I miss only one in ten. When I can balance five, it is as if I were catching the cicadas with my hand. My body is as still as a tree stump. My arms are like dead branches. Heaven, earth, and all creation may be around me, but I am aware only of my cicada’s wings. How could I not succeed?"

Confucius looked round at his disciples and said, "Singleness of purpose induces concentration of the faculties. Of such is the success of this hunchback."

Confucius looked around at his disciples and said, "A single purpose brings all your abilities into focus. That is why this hunchback succeeds."

Yen Yüan said to Confucius, "When I crossed over the Shang-shên rapid, the boatman managed his craft with marvellous skill. I asked him if handling a boat could be learnt. 'It can,' replied he. 'The way of those who know how to keep you afloat is more like sinking you. They row as if the boat wasn't there.'

Yen Yüan said to Confucius, "When I crossed the Shang-shên rapid, the boatman handled his boat with marvelous skill. I asked him if boat handling could be learned. 'It can,' he replied. 'The way those who know how to keep you afloat handle a boat is more like sinking you. They row as if the boat wasn't there.'

"I enquired what this meant, but he would not tell me. May I ask its signification."

"I asked what this meant, but he would not tell me. May I ask what it means?"

"It means," answered Confucius, "that such a man is oblivious of the water around him. He regards the rapid as though dry land. He looks upon an upset as an ordinary cart accident. And if a man can but be impervious to capsizings and accidents in general, whither should he not be able comfortably to go?

"It means," Confucius answered, "that such a man is unaware of the water around him. He treats the rapids as if they were dry land. He sees a capsized boat as an ordinary cart accident. And if a man can be unaffected by capsizing and accidents in general, where could he not travel comfortably?

"A man who plays for counters will play well. If he stakes his girdle,¹¹ he will be nervous; if yellow gold, he will lose his wits. His skill is the same in each case, but he is distracted by the value of his stake. And every one who attaches importance to the external, becomes internally without resource."

"A man who plays for tokens will play well. If he bets his belt,¹¹ he will be nervous. If he bets gold, he will lose his wits. His skill is the same in each case, but the value of his bet distracts him. And everyone who gives importance to external things loses their inner resources."

T'ien K'ai Chih had an audience of Duke Wei of Chou. The Duke asked him, saying, "I have heard that Chu Hsien is studying the art of life. As you are a companion of his, pray tell me anything you know about it."

T'ien K'ai Chih met with Duke Wei of Chou. The Duke asked him, "I have heard that Chu Hsien is studying the art of life. Since you are his companion, please tell me what you know about it."

"I do but ply the broom at his outer gate," replied T'ien K'ai Chih; "what should I know about my Master's researches?"

"I only sweep outside his gate," replied T'ien K'ai Chih. "What could I know about my Master's studies?"

"Don't be so modest," said the Duke. "I am very anxious to hear about it."

"Don't be so modest," said the Duke. "I'm very eager to hear about it."

"Well," replied T'ien, "I have heard my master say that keeping life is like keeping a flock of sheep. You look out for the laggards, and whip them up."

"Well," T'ien replied, "I have heard my master say that preserving life is like tending a flock of sheep. You watch for the ones falling behind and whip them along."

"What does that mean?" asked the Duke.

"What does that mean?" asked the Duke.

"In the State of Lu," said T'ien, "there was a man named Shan Pao. He lived on the mountains and drank water. All worldly interests he had put aside. And at the age of seventy, his complexion was like that of a child. Unluckily, he one day fell in with a hungry tiger who killed and ate him.

"In the State of Lu," said T'ien, "there was a man named Shan Pao. He lived in the mountains and drank water. He had put aside all worldly interests. At seventy, his complexion was like a child's. Unfortunately, one day he met a hungry tiger that killed and ate him.

"There was also a man named Chang I, who frequented the houses of rich and poor alike. At the age of forty he was attacked by some internal disease and died.

"There was also a man named Chang I, who often visited the homes of both rich and poor people. At forty, he developed an internal disease and died.

"Shan Pao took care of his inner self, and a tiger ate his external man. Chang I took care of himself externally, but disease attacked him internally. These two individuals both omitted to whip up the laggards."¹²

"Shan Pao took care of his inner self, but a tiger ate his body. Chang I took care of his body, but disease attacked him from within. Both men failed to urge the laggards on."¹²

Confucius said, "Neither affecting obscurity, nor courting prominence, but unconsciously occupying the happy mean,—he who can attain to these three will enjoy a surpassing fame.

Confucius said, "Do not pretend to be obscure or seek prominence. Instead, unconsciously remain between the two. Whoever achieves all three will enjoy exceptional fame.

"In dangerous parts, where one wayfarer out of ten meets his death, fathers and sons and brothers will counsel each other not to travel without a sufficient escort. Is not this wisdom? And there where men are also greatly in danger, in the lists of passion, in the banquet hour, not to warn them is error indeed."¹³

"In dangerous places, where one traveler in ten dies, fathers, sons, and brothers advise one another to travel with enough protection. Is that not wise? People also face great danger in the struggles of passion and at banquets. Failing to warn them of these dangers is indeed a mistake."¹³

The Grand Augur, in his ceremonial robes, approached the shambles and thus addressed the pigs:—

The Grand Augur, dressed in his ceremonial robes, approached the slaughterhouse and spoke to the pigs:

"How can you object to die? I shall fatten you for three months. I shall discipline myself for ten days and fast for three. I shall strew fine grass, and place you bodily upon a carved sacrificial dish. Does not this satisfy you?"

"Why do you object to dying? I will fatten you for three months. I will discipline myself for ten days and fast for three. I will spread fine grass and place your body on a carved sacrificial dish. Doesn't that satisfy you?"

Then speaking from the pigs' point of view, he continued, "It is better perhaps after all to live on bran and escape the shambles...."

Then he spoke from the pigs' point of view: "Perhaps it is better after all to eat bran and avoid the slaughterhouse...."

"But then," added he, speaking from his own point of view, "to enjoy honour when alive one would readily die on a war-shield or in the headsman's basket."

"But then," he added, speaking from his own point of view, "to enjoy honor while alive, one would readily die on a war shield or in the executioner's basket."

So he rejected the pigs' point of view and adopted his own point of view. In what sense then was he different from the pigs?¹⁴

So he rejected the pigs' point of view and chose his own. How, then, was he different from the pigs?¹⁴

When Duke Huan was out hunting, with Kuan Chung as his charioteer, he saw a bogy. Catching hold of Kuan Chung's hand, he asked him, saying, "What do you see?"

Duke Huan was out hunting, with Kuan Chung driving his chariot, when he saw a ghost. He grabbed Kuan Chung's hand and asked, "What do you see?"

"I see nothing," replied Kuan Chung. But when the Duke got home he became delirious, and for many days was unable to go out.

"I see nothing," replied Kuan Chung. But when the Duke got home, he became delirious. For many days, he could not go out.

There came a certain Huang Tzŭ Kao Ngao of the Ch'i State¹⁵ and said, "Your Highness is self-injured. How could a bogy injure you? When the vital strength is dissipated in anger, and is not renewed, there is a deficiency. When its tendency is in one direction upwards, the result is to incline men to wrath. When its tendency is in one direction downwards, the result is loss of memory. When it remains stagnant, in the middle of the body, the result is disease."

Huang Tzŭ Kao Ngao of the Ch'i State¹⁵ came and said, "Your Highness, you have injured yourself. How could a ghost injure you? When vital energy is spent in anger and not renewed, there is a deficiency. When that energy moves only upward, it makes people prone to anger. When it moves only downward, it causes memory loss. When it stagnates in the middle of the body, it causes disease."

"Very well," said the Duke, "but are there such things as bogies?"

"All right," said the Duke, "but are there such things as ghosts?"

"There are," replied Huang. "There is the mud spirit Li; the fire spirit Kao; Lei T'ing, the spirit of the dust-bin; P'ei O and Wa Lung, sprites of the north-east; Yi Yang of the north-west; Wang Hsiang of the water; the Hsin of the hills; the K'uei of the mountain; the P'ang Huang of the moor; the Wei I of the marsh."¹⁶

"There are," Huang replied. "There is Li, the mud spirit, and Kao, the fire spirit. There is Lei T'ing, the spirit of the dustbin, and P'ei O and Wa Lung, sprites of the northeast. There is Yi Yang of the northwest, Wang Hsiang of the water, and the Hsin of the hills. There is the K'uei of the mountain, the P'ang Huang of the moor, and the Wei I of the marsh."¹⁶

"And what may the Wei I be like?" asked the Duke.

"And what might the Wei I be like?" asked the Duke.

"The Wei I," replied Huang, "is as broad as a cart-wheel and as long as the shaft. It wears purple clothes and a red cap. It is a sentient being, and whenever it hears the rumble of thunder, it stands up in a respectful attitude. Those who see this bogy are like to be chieftains among men."

"The Wei I," Huang replied, "is as wide as a cartwheel and as long as its shaft. It wears purple clothes and a red cap. It is a sentient being. Whenever it hears thunder rumble, it stands up respectfully. Those who see this apparition are likely to become leaders among men."

The Duke laughed exultingly and said, "The very one I saw!" Thereupon he dressed himself and sat up; and ere the day had closed, without knowing it, his sickness had left him.¹⁷

The Duke laughed with delight and said, "That's the very one I saw!" Then he got dressed and sat up. Before the day was over, his sickness had left him without his realizing it.¹⁷

Chi Hsing Tzŭ was training fighting cocks for the prince.¹⁸

Chi Hsing Tzŭ was training fighting roosters for the prince.¹⁸

At the end of ten days the latter asked if they were ready. "Not yet," replied Chi; "they are in the stage of seeking fiercely for a foe."

After ten days, the latter asked if they were ready. "Not yet," Chi replied. "They are still fiercely looking for an enemy."

Again ten days elapsed, and the prince made a further enquiry. "Not yet," replied Chi; "they are still excited by the sounds and shadows of other cocks."

Another ten days passed, and the prince asked again. "Not yet," Chi replied. "They are still excited by the sounds and shadows of other cocks."

Ten days more, and the prince asked again. "Not yet," answered Chi; "the sight of an enemy is still enough to excite them to rage."

Ten days later, the prince asked again. "Not yet," Chi replied. "The sight of an enemy still makes them furious."

But after another ten days, when the prince again enquired, Chi said, "They will do. Other cocks may crow, but they will take no notice. To look at them one might say they were of wood. Their virtue is complete. Strange cocks will not dare meet them, but will run."¹⁹

But after another ten days, the prince asked again. Chi said, "They are ready. Other roosters may crow, but they will pay no attention. They look as if they were made of wood. Their virtue is complete. Unfamiliar roosters will not dare face them, but will run away."¹⁹

Confucius was looking at the cataract at Lü-liang. It fell from a height of thirty jen,²⁰ and its foam reached forty li away. No scaly, finny creature could enter therein.²¹

Confucius was watching the waterfall at Lü-liang. It fell thirty jen,²⁰ and its foam reached forty li away. No creature with scales and fins could enter it.²¹

Yet Confucius saw an old man go in, and thinking that he was suffering from some trouble and desirous of ending his life, bade a disciple run along the side to try and save him. The old man emerged about a hundred paces off, and with flowing hair went carolling along the bank. Confucius followed him and said, "I had thought, Sir, you were a spirit, but now I see you are a man. Kindly tell me, is there any way to deal thus with water?"

Yet Confucius saw an old man go in. He thought the man was troubled and wanted to end his life. So he sent a disciple running along the side to try to save him. The old man came out about a hundred paces away. With his hair flowing, he walked along the bank, singing. Confucius followed him and said, "I thought you were a spirit, sir, but now I see you are a man. Please tell me, is there a way to handle water like that?"

"No," replied the old man; "I have no way. There was my original condition to begin with; then habit growing into nature; and lastly acquiescence in destiny. Plunging in with the whirl, I come out with the swirl. I accommodate myself to the water, not the water to me. And so I am able to deal with it after this fashion."

"No," the old man replied. "I have no method. I began with my natural state, then habit became second nature, and finally I accepted my fate. I dive in with the whirl and come out with the swirl. I adapt myself to the water, rather than making the water adapt to me. That is how I can manage the water this way."

"What do you mean," enquired Confucius, "by your original condition to begin with, habit growing into nature, and acquiescence in destiny?"

“What do you mean,” Confucius asked, “by your original condition at birth, habit becoming nature, and acceptance of destiny?”

"I was born," replied the old man, "upon dry land, and accommodated myself to dry land. That was my original condition. Growing up on the water, I accommodated myself to the water. That was what I meant by nature.²²

"I was born on dry land," the old man replied, "and adapted to living there. That was my original condition. I grew up on the water and adapted to living there. That is what I meant by nature.²²

And doing as I did without being conscious of any effort so to do, that was what I meant by destiny."²³

And doing what I did without being aware of any effort was what I meant by destiny."²³

Ch'ing, the chief carpenter,²⁴ was carving wood into a stand for hanging musical instruments. When finished, the work appeared to those who saw it as though of supernatural execution. And the prince of Lu asked him, saying, "What mystery is there in your art?"

Ch'ing, the chief carpenter,²⁴ was carving a wooden stand for hanging musical instruments. When he finished, those who saw it thought it looked as if it had been made by supernatural means. The prince of Lu asked him, "What is the mystery behind your art?"

"No mystery, your Highness," replied Ch'ing; "and yet there is something.

"No mystery, your Highness," Ch'ing replied, "but there is something.

"When I am about to make such a stand, I guard against any diminution of my vital power. I first reduce my mind to absolute quiescence. Three days in this condition, and I become oblivious of any reward to be gained. Five days, and I become oblivious of any fame to be acquired. Seven days, and I become unconscious of my four limbs and my physical frame. Then, with no thought of the Court present to my mind, my skill becomes concentrated, and all disturbing elements from without are gone. I enter some mountain forest. I search for a suitable tree. It contains the form required, which is afterwards elaborated. I see the stand in my mind's eye, and then set to work. Otherwise, there is nothing. I bring my own natural capacity into relation with that of the wood. What was suspected to be of supernatural execution in my work was due solely to this."²⁵

“When I am about to make such a stand, I take care not to weaken my vital energy. First, I make my mind completely still. After three days, I forget any reward I might gain. After five days, I forget any fame I might earn. After seven days, I am no longer aware of my limbs or my body. Then, with no thought of the Court in my mind, my skill is focused, and all outside distractions are gone. I go into a mountain forest and look for a suitable tree. The tree contains the form I need, which I then shape. I see the stand in my mind before I begin work. Otherwise, there is nothing. I bring my own natural ability together with the natural qualities of the wood. That alone is why people suspected my work was made by supernatural powers.”²⁵

Tung Yeh Chi exhibited his charioteering skill before Duke Chuang.²⁶

Tung Yeh Chi showed his skill at driving a chariot before Duke Chuang.²⁶

Backwards and forwards he drove in lines which might have been ruled, sweeping round at each end in curves which might have been described by compasses.

He drove back and forth in lines as straight as if drawn with a ruler. At each end, he turned in curves as precise as if drawn with a compass.

The Duke, however, said that this was nothing more than weaving; and bidding him drive round and round a hundred times, returned home.

The Duke, however, said it was nothing more than weaving. He told him to drive around in circles a hundred times, then returned home.

Yen Ho came upon him, and then went in and said to the Duke, "Chi's horses are on the point of breaking down."

Yen Ho came across him. Then he went in and said to the Duke, "Chi's horses are about to break down."

The Duke remained silent, making no reply; and in a short time it was announced that the horses had actually broken down, and that Chi had gone away.

The Duke remained silent and said nothing. Soon, news came that the horses had indeed broken down and Chi had left.

"How could you tell this?" said the Duke to Yen Ho.

"How could you tell this?" the Duke asked Yen Ho.

"Because," replied the latter, "Chi was trying to make his horses perform a task to which they were unequal. Therefore I said they would break down."²⁷

"Because," the other replied, "Chi was trying to make his horses do more than they could. So I said they would break down."²⁷

Ch'ui the artisan could draw circles with his hand better than with compasses. His fingers seemed to accommodate themselves so naturally to the thing he was working at, that it was unnecessary to fix his attention. His mental faculties thus remained ONE, and suffered no hindrance.

Ch'ui the craftsman could draw circles by hand better than with a compass. His fingers seemed to adjust so naturally to his work that he did not need to focus his attention. His mental faculties therefore remained ONE and unhindered.

To be unconscious of one's feet implies that the shoes are easy. To be unconscious of a waist implies that the girdle is easy. The intelligence being unconscious of positive and negative implies that the heart is at ease. No modifications within, no yielding to influences without,²⁸ —this is ease under all conditions. And he who beginning with ease, is never not at ease, is unconscious of the ease of ease.²⁹

When you do not notice your feet, your shoes are comfortable. When you do not notice your waist, your belt is comfortable. When your mind is unaware of right and wrong, your heart is at ease. When nothing changes within and nothing outside influences you,²⁸ you are at ease in all conditions. Someone who begins at ease and is never otherwise does not even notice the ease of being at ease.²⁹

A certain Sun Hsiu went to the house of Pien Ch'ing Tzŭ³⁰ and complained, saying, "In peace I am not considered wanting in propriety. In times of trouble I am not considered wanting in courage. Yet my crops fail; and officially I am not a success. From my village an outcast, I am an outlaw from my State. How have I offended against God that he should visit me with such a fate?"

Sun Hsiu went to the house of Pien Ch'ing Tzŭ³⁰ and complained, "In times of peace, people consider my conduct proper. In times of trouble, they consider me courageous. Yet my crops fail, and I have not succeeded as an official. I am an outcast from my village and an outlaw from my State. How have I offended God that he should bring such a fate upon me?"

"Have you not heard," replied Pien Tzŭ, "how the perfect man conducts himself? He is oblivious of his physical organisation. He is beyond the reach of sight and hearing. He moves outside the limits of this dusty world, rambling transcendentally in the domain of no-affairs. This is called acting but not from self-confidence, influencing but not from authority.³¹

"Have you not heard," replied Pien Tzŭ, "how the perfect man lives? He is unaware of his own body. Sight and hearing cannot reach him. He moves beyond the limits of this dusty world, wandering freely in the realm of no affairs. This is called acting without self-confidence, influencing without authority.³¹

"But you, you make a show of your knowledge in order to startle fools. You cultivate yourself in contrast to the degradation of others. And you blaze along as though the sun and moon were under your arms.³²

"But you show off your knowledge to amaze fools. You improve yourself by contrasting yourself with others' degradation. And you shine as if you carried the sun and moon under your arms.³²

Whereas, that you have a whole body in a whole skin, and have not perished in mid career, dumb, blind, or halt, but actually hold a place among men,—this ought to be enough for you. Why rail at God? Begone!"

You have a whole body and unbroken skin. You have not died in the middle of your life, unable to speak, blind, or unable to walk. Instead, you actually have a place among other people. That should be enough for you. Why rage at God? Go away!"

Sun Hsiu went away, and Pien Tzŭ went in and sat down. Shortly afterwards, he looked up to heaven and sighed; whereupon a disciple asked him what was the matter.

Sun Hsiu left, and Pien Tzŭ went in and sat down. Soon afterward, Pien Tzŭ looked up at the sky and sighed. A disciple then asked him what was wrong.

"When Hsiu was here just now," answered Pien Tzŭ, "I spoke to him of the virtue of the perfect man. I fear lest he be startled and so driven on to doubt."

"When Hsiu was here a moment ago," Pien Tzŭ replied, "I spoke to him about the virtue of the perfect man. I fear he may be startled and driven to doubt."

"No, Sir," answered the disciple. "If he was right and you were wrong, wrong will never drive right into doubt. If, on the other hand, he was wrong and you were right, he brought his doubt with him, and you are not responsible."

"No, sir," the disciple replied. "If he was right and you were wrong, being wrong can never make what is right doubtful. But if he was wrong and you were right, he brought his doubt with him, and you are not responsible."

"Not so," said Pien Tzŭ. "Of old, when a bird alighted outside the capital of Lu, the prince was delighted, and killed an ox to feed it and had the Chiu Shao played to entertain it. The bird, however, was timid and dazed and dared not to eat or drink. This was treating the bird like oneself. But to treat a bird as a bird would treat a bird, you must put it to roost in a deep forest, let it swim in river or lake, and feed at its ease on the plain. Now Sun Hsiu is a man of small understanding; and for me to speak to him of the perfect man is like setting a mouse to ride in a coach or a band of music to play to a quail. How should he not be startled?"³³

"Not so," said Pien Tzŭ. "Long ago, a bird landed outside the capital of Lu. The prince was delighted. He killed an ox to feed the bird and had the Chiu Shao played to entertain it. But the bird was frightened and dazed and did not dare eat or drink. The prince was treating the bird as he would treat himself. But to treat a bird as a bird would treat a bird, you must let it roost in a deep forest. Let it swim in a river or lake and feed at its ease on the plain. Now Sun Hsiu is a man of little understanding. For me to speak to him about the perfect man is like putting a mouse in a coach or having a band play music for a quail. How could he not be startled?"³³