Chapter 22

Knowledge Travels North

14 min
Argument:—Inaction and Tao—The universe our model—Spontaneity our watchword—Omnipresence and indivisibility of Tao—External activity, internal passivity—Man's knowledge finite—Illustrations.
Outline: Inaction and Tao. The universe as our model. Spontaneity as our guiding principle. Tao is everywhere and cannot be divided. Outward activity and inner passivity. Human knowledge is limited. Examples.

[This chapter is supplementary to chapter vi.]

[This chapter supplements chapter vi.]

When Knowledge travelled north, across the Black Water, and over the Dark-Steep Mountain, he met Do-nothing Say-nothing and asked of him as follows:—

Knowledge traveled north, across the Black Water and over the Dark-Steep Mountain. There he met Do-nothing Say-nothing and asked him:

"Kindly tell me by what thoughts, by what cogitations, may Tao be known? By resting in what, by according in what, may Tao be approached? By following what, by pursuing what, may Tao be attained?"

"Please tell me, what thoughts or reflections may lead to knowledge of Tao? What may one rest in or align with to approach Tao? What may one follow or pursue to attain Tao?"

To these three questions, Do-nothing Say-nothing returned no answer. Not that he would not answer, but that he could not. So when Knowledge got no reply, he turned round and went off to the south of the White Water and up the Ku-chüeh Mountain, where he saw All-in-extremes, and to him he put the same questions.

Do-nothing Say-nothing gave no answer to these three questions. It was not that he would not answer, but that he could not. So, having received no reply, Knowledge turned and went south of the White Water and up Ku-chüeh Mountain. There he saw All-in-extremes and asked him the same questions.

"Ha!" cried All-in-extremes, "I know. I will tell you...."

"Ha!" All-in-extremes cried, "I know. I'll tell you...."

But just as he was about to speak he forgot what he wanted to say. So when Knowledge got no reply, he went back to the palace and asked the Yellow Emperor. The latter said, "By no thoughts, by no cogitations, Tao may be known. By resting in nothing, by according in nothing, Tao may be approached. By following nothing, by pursuing nothing, Tao may be attained."

But just as he was about to speak, he forgot what he wanted to say. When Knowledge got no reply, he went back to the palace and asked the Yellow Emperor. The Yellow Emperor said, "Tao may be known by not thinking or reflecting. Tao may be approached by resting in nothing and agreeing with nothing. Tao may be attained by following nothing and pursuing nothing."

Then Knowledge said to the Yellow Emperor, "Now you and I know this, but those two know it not. Who is right?"

Then Knowledge said to the Yellow Emperor, "You and I know this, but those two do not. Who is right?"

"Of those two," replied the Yellow Emperor, "Do-nothing Say-nothing is genuinely right, and All-in-extremes is near. You and I are wholly wrong. Those who understand it do not speak about it, those who speak about it do not understand it.

"Of those two," the Yellow Emperor replied, "Do-nothing Say-nothing is truly right, and All-in-extremes is close. You and I are completely wrong. Those who understand it do not speak about it. Those who speak about it do not understand it.

These words appear in the Tao-Tê-Ching, ch. vi. See also ante, ch. xiii.

Therefore the Sage teaches a doctrine which does not find expression in words.

Therefore, the Sage teaches a doctrine that cannot be expressed in words.

See ante, ch. v. Also The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 7.

Tao cannot be made to come. Virtue cannot be reached.

You cannot make Tao come. You cannot reach virtue.

Virtue (Tê), here the expression of Tao.

Charity can be evoked. Duty to one's neighbour can be wrongly directed. Ceremonies are mere shams.

Charity can be stirred up. Duty to one's neighbor can be misdirected. Ceremonies are just shams.

"Therefore it has been said, 'If Tao perishes, then Tê will perish. If Tê perishes, then charity will perish. If charity perishes, then duty to one's neighbour will perish. If duty to one's neighbour perishes, then ceremonies will perish. Ceremonies are but a showy ornament of Tao, while oft-times the source of trouble.'

"Therefore, it has been said, 'If Tao perishes, then Tê will perish. If Tê perishes, then charity will perish. If charity perishes, then duty to one's neighbor will perish. If duty to one's neighbor perishes, then ceremonies will perish. Ceremonies are only a showy ornament of Tao, and they are often a source of trouble.'

The above is from the Tao-Tê-Ching, ch. xxxviii. It is interesting that the Yellow Emperor annihilates time by quoting a work written many centuries after his time.

"Therefore it has been said, 'Those who practise Tao suffer daily loss. If that loss proceeds until inaction ensues, then by that very inaction there is nothing which cannot be done.'

"Therefore, it has been said, 'Those who practice Tao lose something every day. If this loss continues until they do nothing, then through doing nothing, they can accomplish anything.'

Also in the Tao-Tê-Ching, chapter xlviii.

"Now, we are already beings. And if we desire to revert to our original condition, how difficult that is! 'Tis a change to which only the greatest among us are equal.

"Now, we already exist as beings. And if we want to return to our original condition, how difficult that is! Only the greatest among us can make that change."

"Life follows upon death. Death is the beginning of life. Who knows when the end is reached? The life of man results from convergence of the vital fluid. Its convergence is life; its dispersion, death. If then life and death are but consecutive states, what need have I to complain?

"Life follows death. Death is the beginning of life. Who knows when the end comes? Human life results from the gathering of vital fluid. When the vital fluid gathers, there is life. When it disperses, there is death. If life and death are simply states that follow one another, why should I complain?

"Therefore all things are One. What we love is animation. What we hate is corruption. But corruption in its turn becomes animation, and animation once more becomes corruption.

"So all things are one. What we love is life. What we hate is decay. But decay becomes life, and life becomes decay again.

"Therefore it has been said, The world is permeated by a single vital fluid, and Sages accordingly venerate One."

"Therefore, it is said: A single vital fluid fills the world, so sages honor the One."

"Tota formatio procedens ex nomine uno." Liber Jezirah, p. Bi. (Parisiis: G. Postello, 1552.)

Then Knowledge said to the Yellow Emperor, "I asked Do-nothing Say-nothing, but he did not answer me. Not that he, would not; he could not. So I asked All-in-extremes. He was just going to tell me, but he did not tell me. Not that he would not; but just as he was going to do so, he forgot what he wanted to say. Now I ask you, and you tell me. How then are you wholly wrong?"

Then Knowledge said to the Yellow Emperor, "I asked Do-nothing Say-nothing, but he did not answer me. It was not that he would not answer. He could not. So I asked All-in-extremes. He was just about to tell me, but he did not. It was not that he would not tell me. Just as he was about to speak, he forgot what he wanted to say. Now I ask you, and you tell me. How, then, are you completely wrong?"

"Of those two," replied the Yellow Emperor, "the former was genuinely right, inasmuch as he did not know. The latter was near, inasmuch as he forgot. You and I are wholly wrong, inasmuch as we know."

“Of those two,” replied the Yellow Emperor, “the first was truly right because he did not know. The second came close because he forgot. You and I are completely wrong because we know.”

Tao is attained not through knowledge, but through the absence of knowledge.

When All-in-extremes heard of this, he considered that the Yellow Emperor had spoken well.

When All-in-extremes heard this, he thought the Yellow Emperor had spoken well.

"Spoken knowingly" is the only way to bring out the forced wordplay here.

The universe is very beautiful, yet it says nothing. The four seasons abide by a fixed law, yet they are not heard. All creation is based upon absolute principles, yet nothing speaks.

The universe is very beautiful, yet it says nothing. The four seasons follow a fixed law, yet they make no sound. All creation rests on absolute principles, yet nothing speaks.

And the true Sage, taking his stand upon the beauty of the universe, pierces the principles of created things. Hence the saying that the perfect man does nothing, the true Sage performs nothing, beyond gazing at the universe.

The true Sage takes a stand on the beauty of the universe and sees into the principles of created things. That is why people say that the perfect man does nothing and the true Sage does nothing beyond gazing at the universe.

In the hope of achieving a similar spontaneity through contemplation.

For man's intellect, however keen, face to face with the countless evolutions of things, their death and birth, their squareness and roundness,—can never reach the root. There creation is, and there it has ever been.

No matter how sharp the human intellect, it can never reach the root of things. It faces their countless transformations, their deaths and births, their squareness and roundness. That root is where creation is, and where it has always been.

But the secret of life is kept hidden.

The six cardinal points, reaching into infinity, are ever included in Tao. An autumn spikelet, in all its minuteness, must carry Tao within itself. There is nothing on earth which does not rise and fall, but it never perishes altogether.

The six directions extend into infinity, yet they are always contained in Tao. Even a tiny autumn spikelet must contain Tao within it. Everything on earth rises and falls, but nothing ever perishes completely.

Nothing can return to nothing.

The Yin and the Yang, and the four seasons, keep to their proper order. Apparently destroyed, yet really existing; the material gone, the immaterial left;—such is the law of creation, which passeth all understanding. This is called the root, whence a glimpse may be obtained of God.

The Yin and the Yang, and the four seasons, follow their proper order. What seems destroyed still exists. The material is gone, but the immaterial remains. This is the law of creation, which is beyond all understanding. This law is called the root, from which one may glimpse God.

From this point, which no one can ever pinpoint, the mind may perhaps faintly discern the transcendent workings of the Power that governs all creation. It may perhaps "uncover those secret recesses where Nature is sitting at the fires in the depths of her laboratory." Swedenborg.

Yeh Ch'üeh enquired of P'i I about Tao.

Yeh Ch'üeh asked P'i I about Tao.

For the former, see ch. ii. There is no record of the latter.

The latter said, "Keep your body under proper control, your gaze concentrated upon One,—and the peace of God will descend upon you. Keep back your knowledge, and concentrate your thoughts upon One,—and the holy spirit shall abide within you. Virtue shall beautify you, Tao shall establish you, aimless as a new-born calf which recks not how it came into the world."

The other said, "Keep your body under control and focus your gaze on One. Then the peace of God will descend upon you. Hold back your knowledge and focus your thoughts on One. Then the holy spirit will dwell within you. Virtue will make you beautiful, and Tao will give you a firm foundation. You will be without purpose, like a newborn calf that does not know how it came into the world."

While P'i I was still speaking, Yeh Ch'üeh had gone off to sleep; at which the former rejoiced greatly, and departed singing,

While P'i I was still speaking, Yeh Ch'üeh fell asleep. P'i I was delighted and left, singing,

"Body like dry bone, Mind like dead ashes; This is true knowledge, Not to strive after knowing the whence. In darkness, in obscurity, The mindless cannot plan;— What manner of man is that?"

"Body like dry bone, Mind like dead ashes. This is true knowledge: Not trying to know where things come from. In darkness, in obscurity, The mindless cannot plan. What kind of man is that?"

His mortal constraints had fallen away as he became one with Tao.

Shun asked Ch'êng, saying, "Can one get Tao so as to have it for one's own?"

Shun asked Ch'êng, "Can one possess Tao and make it one's own?"

His tutor.

"Your very body," replied Ch'êng, "is not your own. How should Tao be?"

"Even your own body is not yours," replied Ch'êng. "How could Tao be yours?"

"If my body," said Shun, "is not my own, pray whose is it?"

"If my body isn't my own," Shun said, "then whose is it?"

"It is the delegated image of God," replied Ch'êng. "Your life is not your own. It is the delegated harmony of God.

"It is an image bestowed by God," replied Ch'êng. "Your life is not your own. It is a harmony bestowed by God.

Because Yin and Yang are drawn to each other, they combine to produce life when they are in the right proportions.

Your individuality is not your own. It is the delegated adaptability of God.

Your individuality does not belong to you. It is God's adaptability entrusted to you.

Giving the endless variety of shapes an endless variety of colors.

Your posterity is not your own. It is the delegated exuviæ of God.

Your descendants are not your own. They are God's cast-off forms, entrusted to you.

Just as God sends us into the world, he also wishes us to "increase and multiply."

You move, but know not how. You are at rest, but know not why. You taste, but know not the cause. These are the operation of God's laws. How then should you get Tao so as to have it for your own?"

You move, but you do not know how. You are at rest, but you do not know why. You taste, but you do not know what causes you to taste. These are the workings of God's laws. How, then, could you obtain Tao and make it your own?"

Cf. "Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost," etc. I. Corinthians vi. 19.

Confucius said to Lao Tzŭ, "To-day you are at leisure. Pray tell me about perfect Tao."

Confucius said to Lao Tzŭ, "You have some free time today. Please tell me about perfect Tao."

"Purge your heart by fasting and discipline," answered Lao Tzŭ. "Wash your soul as white as snow. Discard your knowledge. Tao is abstruse and difficult of discussion. I will try, however, to speak to you of its outline.

"Purify your heart through fasting and discipline," Lao Tzŭ replied. "Wash your soul as white as snow. Let go of your knowledge. Tao is mysterious and difficult to discuss. However, I will try to give you an outline of it.

"Light is born of darkness. Classification is born of formlessness. The soul is born of Tao. The body is born of the vital essence.

"Light comes from darkness. Classification comes from formlessness. The soul comes from Tao. The body comes from the vital essence.

Existence comes from nonexistence.

"Thus all things produce after their kind. Creatures with nine channels of communication are born from the womb. Creatures with eight are born from the egg.

"So all things reproduce according to their kind. Creatures with nine openings are born from the womb. Creatures with eight openings hatch from eggs.

Nature is always similar to itself.

Of their coming there is no trace. In their departure there is no goal. No entrance gate, no dwelling house, they pass this way and that, as though at the meeting of cross-roads.

They leave no trace when they come. They have no destination when they leave. With no gate to enter and no home to live in, they pass back and forth, as if at a crossroads.

"Those who enter herein become strong of limb, subtle of thought, and clear of sight and hearing. They suffer no mental fatigue, nor meet with physical resistance.

"Those who enter here become strong in body, subtle in thought, and keen in sight and hearing. They feel no mental fatigue and encounter no physical resistance.

"Heaven cannot but be high. Earth cannot but be broad. The sun and moon cannot but revolve. All creation cannot but flourish. To do so is their Tao.

"Heaven must be high. Earth must be broad. The sun and moon must revolve. All creation must flourish. This is their Tao.

"But it is not from extensive study that this may be known, nor by dialectic skill that this may be made clear. The true Sage will have none of these. It is in addition without gain, in diminution without loss, that the true Sage finds salvation.

"But extensive study cannot reveal this, nor can skill in argument make it clear. The true Sage rejects both. The true Sage finds salvation in adding without gaining and reducing without losing.

"Unfathomable as the sea, wondrously ending only to begin again, informing all creation without being exhausted, the Tao of the perfect man is spontaneous in its operation. That all creation can be informed by it without exhaustion, is its Tao.

"The Tao of the perfect man is as unfathomable as the sea. It ends wonderfully, only to begin again, and gives form to all creation without being exhausted. It acts spontaneously. Its Tao is that it can give form to all creation without being exhausted."

The Tao of Tao.

"In the Middle Kingdom there are men who recognise neither positive nor negative. They abide between heaven and earth. They act their part as mortals, and then return to the Cause.

"In the Middle Kingdom, there are people who recognize neither positive nor negative. They live between heaven and earth. They play their part as mortals, and then return to the Cause.

"From that standpoint, life is but a concentration of the vital fluid, whose longest and shortest terms of existence vary by an inappreciable space,—-hardly enough for the classification of Yao and Chieh.

"From that standpoint, life is only a concentration of vital fluid. The difference between the longest and shortest lives is too slight to measure. It is hardly enough to distinguish Yao from Chieh.

On the Cause, that is, God, who is equal in extent to infinity.

As good and bad. See ch. iv.

"Tree-fruits and plant-fruits exhibit order in their varieties; and the relationships of man, though more difficult to be dealt with, may still be reduced to order.

"Fruits from trees and plants show order in their varieties. Human relationships are harder to manage, but they too may be brought into order.

These have been classified as follows:

1. Ruler and subject.

2. Husband and wife.

3. Father and son.

4. Older brother and younger brother.

5. Friend and friend.

The true Sage who meets with these, does not violate them. Neither does he continue to hold fast by them.

A true Sage who encounters these does not violate them. Nor does he continue to hold on to them.

He adapts to the demands of his surroundings.

Adaptation by arrangement is Tê. Spontaneous adaptation is Tao, by which sovereigns flourish and princes succeed.

Adaptation through arrangement is Tê. Spontaneous adaptation is Tao. Through Tao, sovereigns flourish and princes succeed.

"Man passes through this sublunary life as a white horse passes a crack. Here one moment, gone the next. Neither are there any not equally subject to the ingress and egress of mortality. One modification brings life; then another, and it is death. Living creatures cry out; human beings sorrow. The bow-sheath is slipped off; the clothes-bag is dropped; and in the confusion the soul wings its flight, and the body follows, on the great journey home!

"Human life on earth passes as quickly as a white horse seen through a crack. Here one moment, gone the next. Everyone is equally subject to the coming and going of life and death. One change brings life, then another brings death. Living creatures cry out, and human beings grieve. The bow sheath slips off, and the clothes bag is dropped. In the confusion, the soul takes flight, and the body follows, on the great journey home!"

"The reality of the formless, the unreality of that which has form,—this is known to all. Those who are on the road to attainment care not for these things, but the people at large discuss them. Attainment implies non-discussion: discussion implies non-attainment. Manifested, Tao has no objective value; hence silence is better than argument. It cannot be translated into speech; better then say nothing at all. This is called the great attainment."

"Everyone knows that the formless is real and what has form is unreal. Those on the path to attainment do not concern themselves with these things, but people in general discuss them. Attainment means not discussing them. Discussion means not having attained. When Tao is made manifest, it has no objective value, so silence is better than argument. Tao cannot be put into words, so it is better to say nothing at all. This is called the great attainment."

Tung Kuo Tzŭ asked Chuang Tzŭ, saying, "What you call Tao,—where is it?"

Tung Kuo Tzŭ asked Chuang Tzŭ, "Where is what you call Tao?"

"There is nowhere," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "where it is not."

"There is nowhere it is not," replied Chuang Tzŭ.

"Tell me one place at any rate where it is," said Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"At least tell me one place where it is," said Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"It is in the ant," replied Chuang Tzŭ.

"It is in the ant," said Chuang Tzŭ.

"Why go so low down?" asked Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"Why go so low?" asked Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"It is in a tare," said Chuang Tzŭ.

"It is in a weed," said Chuang Tzŭ.

"Still lower," objected Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"Even lower," objected Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"It is in a potsherd," said Chuang Tzŭ.

"It is in a broken piece of pottery," said Chuang Tzŭ.

"Worse still!" cried Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"That's even worse!" cried Tung Kuo Tzŭ.

"It is in ordure," said Chuang Tzŭ. And Tung Kuo Tzŭ made no reply.

"It is in dung," said Chuang Tzŭ. Tung Kuo Tzŭ did not reply.

"Sir," continued Chuang Tzŭ, "your question does not touch the essential. When Huo, inspector of markets, asked the managing director about the fatness of pigs, the test was always made in parts least likely to be fat. Do not therefore insist in any particular direction; for there is nothing which escapes. Such is perfect Tao; and such also is ideal speech. Whole, entire, all, are three words which sound differently but mean the same. Their purport is One.

"Sir," Chuang Tzŭ continued, "your question misses the essential point. When Huo, the market inspector, asked the managing director how fat the pigs were, he always tested the parts least likely to be fat. So do not insist on looking in any particular direction, for nothing escapes. Such is perfect Tao, and such is ideal speech. Whole, entire, and all sound different, but they mean the same thing. Their meaning is One.

"Try to reach with me the palace of Nowhere, and there, amidst the identity of all things, carry your discussions into the infinite. Try to practise with me inaction, wherein you may rest motionless, without care, and be happy. For thus my mind becomes an abstraction. It wanders not, and yet is not conscious of being at rest. It goes and comes and is not conscious of stoppages. Backwards and forwards without being conscious of any goal. Up and down the realms of Infinity, wherein even the greatest intellect would fail to find an end.

"Try to reach the palace of Nowhere with me. There, where all things are one, let us carry our discussions into the infinite. Try to practice inaction with me. Through inaction, you may rest motionless, without care, and be happy. For in this way, my mind becomes an abstraction. It does not wander, yet it is not aware of being at rest. It comes and goes without noticing any stops. It moves back and forth without being aware of any goal. It moves up and down through the realms of Infinity, where even the greatest intellect could not find an end.

"That which makes things the things they are, is not limited to such things. The limits of things are their own limits in so far as they are things. The limits of the limitless, the limitlessness of the limited,—these are called fulness and emptiness, renovation and decay. Tao causes fulness and emptiness, but it is not either. It causes renovation and decay, but it is not either. It causes beginning and end, but it is not either. It causes accumulation and dispersion, but it is not either."

"What makes things what they are is not limited to those things. Things have limits of their own because they are things. The limits of the limitless and the limitlessness of the limited are called fullness and emptiness, renewal and decay. Tao causes fullness and emptiness, but it is neither. It causes renewal and decay, but it is neither. It causes beginnings and endings, but it is neither. It causes things to gather and scatter, but it is neither."

O Ho Kan was studying with Shên Nung under Lao Lung Chi.

O Ho Kan and Shên Nung were studying under Lao Lung Chi.

There is no record of the first and last. Shên Nung was a legendary emperor who invented agriculture. See ch. xvi.

Shên Nung used to remain shut up, with his head on the table, absorbed in day-dreams. On one occasion, O Ho Kan knocked at the door, and entering said, "Lao Lung is dead!"

Shên Nung often stayed shut away, resting his head on the table and lost in daydreams. Once, O Ho Kan knocked on the door, came in, and said, "Lao Lung is dead!"

Thereupon Shên Nung, leaning on his staff, arose; and flinging down his staff with a bang, smiled and said, "O my Master, thou knewest me to be worthless and self-sufficient, and thou didst leave me and die. Now I, having no scope for my vain talk, I too will die."

Then Shên Nung rose, leaning on his staff. He threw it down with a bang, smiled, and said, "Oh, my Master, you knew I was worthless and self-satisfied, and you left me and died. Now I have no one to listen to my empty talk, so I too will die."

When Yen Kang Tiao heard this, he said, "Those who exemplify Tao are sought after by all the best men in the empire. Now if one who has not attained to more Tao than the ten-thousandth part of the tip of an autumn spikelet, is still wise enough to withhold vain talk and die,—how much more those who exemplify Tao? To the eye it is formless, and to the ear it is noiseless. Those who discuss it, speak of it as 'the obscure.' But the mere fact of discussing Tao makes it not Tao."

When Yen Kang Tiao heard this, he said, "All the best men in the empire seek out those who embody Tao. Suppose someone has attained less Tao than a ten-thousandth of the tip of an autumn spikelet. If he is still wise enough to hold back empty talk and die, how much more so are those who embody Tao? Tao has no form for the eye to see and makes no sound for the ear to hear. Those who discuss Tao call it 'the obscure.' But the mere act of discussing Tao makes it no longer Tao."

"A man of Tao." Comm.

At this the Empyrean asked Without-end, saying, "Do you know Tao?"

At this, the Empyrean asked Without-end, "Do you know Tao?"

"I do not," replied Without-end; whereupon the Empyrean proceeded to ask Inaction.

"I do not," Without-end replied. Then the Empyrean asked Inaction.

"I do know Tao," said Inaction.

"I do know Tao," said Inaction.

"Is there any method," asked the Empyrean, "by which you know Tao?"

"Is there a way you can know Tao?" asked the Empyrean.

"There is," replied Inaction.

"There is," said Inaction.

"What is it?" asked the Empyrean.

"What is it?" asked the Empyrean.

"I know," answered Inaction, "that Tao may honour and dishonour, bind and loose. That is the method by which I know Tao."

"I know that Tao may honor and dishonor, bind and free," Inaction answered. "That is how I know Tao."

The Empyrean repeated these words to No-beginning, and asked him which was right, the ignorance of Without-end or the knowledge of Inaction.

The Empyrean repeated these words to No-beginning. He asked whether Without-end's ignorance or Inaction's knowledge was right.

"Not to know," replied No-beginning, "is profound. To know is shallow. Not to know is internal. To know is external."

"Not knowing," No-beginning replied, "is profound. Knowing is shallow. Not knowing comes from within. Knowing comes from outside."

Here the Empyrean broke in with a sigh, "Then ignorance is knowledge, and knowledge ignorance! But pray whose knowledge is the knowledge of not knowing?"

At this, the Empyrean interrupted with a sigh, "Then ignorance is knowledge, and knowledge is ignorance! But whose knowledge is the knowledge of not knowing?"

"Tao," said No-beginning, "cannot be heard. Heard, it is not Tao. It cannot be seen. Seen, it is not Tao. It cannot be spoken. Spoken, it is not Tao. That which imparts form to forms is itself formless; therefore Tao cannot have a name."

"Tao," said No-beginning, "cannot be heard. If it can be heard, it is not Tao. It cannot be seen. If it can be seen, it is not Tao. It cannot be spoken. If it can be spoken, it is not Tao. Whatever gives form to things is itself formless. So Tao cannot have a name."

Form comes before name.

No-beginning continued, "He who replies to one asking about Tao, does not know Tao. Although one may hear about Tao, he does not really hear about Tao. There is no such thing as asking about Tao. There is no such thing as answering such questions. To ask a question which cannot be asked is vain. To answer a question which cannot be answered is unreal. And one who thus meets the vain with the unreal is one who has no physical perception of the universe, and no mental perception of the origin of existence,—unfit alike to roam over the K'un-lun peak or to soar into the Supreme Void."

No-beginning continued, "Anyone who answers a question about Tao does not know Tao. Although someone may hear about Tao, they do not really hear about Tao. There is no such thing as asking about Tao. There is no such thing as answering questions about Tao. Asking a question that cannot be asked is futile. Answering a question that cannot be answered is unreal. Anyone who meets the futile with the unreal has no physical awareness of the universe. Nor do they have any mental awareness of the origin of existence. They are fit neither to roam over the K'un-lun peak nor to soar into the Supreme Void."

Light asked Nothing, saying, "Do you, Sir, exist, or do you not exist?"

Light asked Nothing, "Do you exist, sir, or not?"

But getting no answer to his question, Light set to work to watch for the appearance of Nothing.

But when Light received no answer to his question, he began to watch for Nothing to appear.

Hidden, vacuous,—all day long he looked but could not see it, listened but could not hear it, grasped at but could not seize it.

It was hidden and empty. All day long, he looked for it but could not see it. He listened for it but could not hear it. He reached for it but could not grasp it.

See The Remains of Lao Tzŭ, p. 31.

"Bravo!" cried Light. "Who can equal this? I can get to be nothing, but I cannot get as far as the absence of nothing. Assuming that Nothing has an objective existence, how can it reach this next stage?"

"Bravo!" cried Light. "Who can match this? I can become nothing, but I cannot reach the absence of nothing. If Nothing exists as a thing, how can it reach this next stage?"

Darkness.

The man who forged swords for the Minister of War was eighty years of age. Yet he never made the slightest slip in his work.

The man who made swords for the Minister of War was eighty years old. Yet he never made the slightest mistake in his work.

The Minister of War said to him, "Is it your skill, Sir, or have you any method?"

The Minister of War said to him, "Sir, is it your skill, or do you have a method?"

Any Tao? Tao is used here in its earlier sense of a way of doing things.

"It is concentration," replied the man. "When twenty years old, I took to forging swords. I cared for nothing else. If a thing was not a sword, I did not notice it. I availed myself of whatever energy I did not use in other directions in order to secure greater efficiency in the direction required. Still more of that which is never without use;—

"It is concentration," the man replied. "When I was twenty, I began forging swords. I cared about nothing else. If something was not a sword, I did not notice it. I put all the energy I did not use elsewhere into becoming more efficient at forging swords. Still more of what is never without use.

Tao.

So that there was nothing which did not lend its aid.

So that everything helped.

Jen Ch'iu asked Confucius, saying, "Can we know about the time before the universe existed?"

Jen Ch'iu asked Confucius, "Can we know what happened before the universe existed?"

"We can," replied Confucius. "Time was of old precisely what it is now."

"We can," Confucius replied. "Time was exactly the same in the past as it is now."

At this rebuff, Jen Ch'iu withdrew. Next day he again visited Confucius and said, "Yesterday when I asked you that question and you answered me, I was quite clear about it. To-day I am confused. How is this?"

After this rebuff, Jen Ch'iu left. The next day, he visited Confucius again and said, "Yesterday, when I asked you that question, your answer seemed clear to me. Today, I am confused. Why is that?"

"Your clearness of yesterday," answered Confucius, "was because my answer appealed direct to your natural intelligence. Your confusion of to-day results from the intrusion of something other than the natural intelligence.

"You understood yesterday," Confucius answered, "because my answer appealed directly to your natural intelligence. You are confused today because something other than your natural intelligence has interfered.

You have moved from "simple apprehension" to "judgment."

There is no past, no present, no beginning, no end.

There is no past, no present, no beginning, and no end.

Today will be yesterday tomorrow.

To have posterity before one has posterity,—is that possible?"

Is it possible to have descendants before one has descendants?"

Jen Ch'iu made no answer, and Confucius continued, "That will do. Do not reply. If life did not give birth to death, and if death did not put an end to life, surely life and death would be no longer correlates, but would each exist independently. What there was before the universe, was Tao. Tao makes things what they are, but is not itself a thing. Nothing can produce Tao; yet everything has Tao within it, and continues to produce it without end.

Jen Ch'iu did not answer, and Confucius continued, "That will do. Do not answer. If life did not give birth to death, and if death did not end life, the two would surely no longer depend on each other. Instead, each would exist independently. Before the universe, there was Tao. Tao makes things what they are, but is not itself a thing. Nothing can produce Tao. Yet everything has Tao within it and continues to produce Tao without end.

In its young.

And the endless love of the Sage for his fellow-man is based upon the same principle."

And the Sage’s endless love for others is based on the same principle."

Yen Yüan asked Confucius, saying, "Master, I have heard you declare that there may be no eagerness to conform, no effort to adapt. If so, pray how are we to get along?"

Yen Yüan asked Confucius, "Master, I have heard you say that there may be no eagerness to conform and no effort to adapt. If so, how are we to get along?"

Reach the state that can only be attained by adapting to your environment.

"The men of old," replied Confucius, "practised physical, but not moral, modification.

“The people of ancient times,” Confucius replied, “changed their bodies, but not their morals.

They adapted to the demands of the material world, but their hearts remained unchanged.

The men of to-day practise moral, not physical modification.

People today practice moral modification, not physical modification.

They let their hearts be influenced while resisting the demands of the outside world.

Let your modification extend to the external only. Internally, be constant without modification.

Let only your outward behavior change. Inside, remain constant and unchanged.

"How shall you modify, and how shall you not modify? How reconcile the divergence?—By not admitting division.

"How should you make changes, and how should you leave things unchanged? How can you reconcile the differences? By not accepting that there is a division."

I.e. "by being constant without modification," says Lin Hsi Chung.

"There was the garden of Hsi Wei, the park of the Yellow Emperor, the palace of Shun, the halls of T'ang and Wu.

"There was Hsi Wei's garden, the Yellow Emperor's park, Shun's palace, and the halls of T'ang and Wu.

The reference seems to be to schools of learning, like the Grove of Academus. See chs. vi, xii.

These were perfect men; but had they been taught by Confucianists and Mihists, they would have hammered one another to pieces over scholastic quibbles. How much more then the men of to-day?

These were perfect men. But if Confucianists and Mihists had taught them, they would have hammered one another to pieces over academic quibbles. How much more would people today?

"The perfect Sage, in his relations with the external world, injures nothing. Neither does anything injure him. And only he who is thus exempt can be trusted to conform and to adapt.

"The perfect sage harms nothing in his dealings with the outside world. Nothing harms him either. And only someone free from harm in both ways can be trusted to conform and adapt.

"Mountain forests and loamy fields swell my heart with joy. But ere the joy be passed, sorrow is upon me again.

"Mountain forests and rich fields fill my heart with joy. But before the joy fades, sorrow returns.

Familiarity destroys the charm.

Joy and sorrow come and go, and over them I have no control.

Joy and sorrow come and go, and I have no control over them.

"Alas! the life of man is but as a stoppage at an inn. He knows that which comes within the range of his experience. Otherwise, he knows not. He knows that he can do what he can do, and that he cannot do what he cannot do. But there is always that which he does not know and that which he cannot do; and to struggle that it shall not be so,—is not this a cause for grief?

“Alas! A human life is only a stop at an inn. A person knows what falls within their experience. Beyond that, they know nothing. They know what they can do and what they cannot do. But there is always something they do not know and something they cannot do. Is it not a cause for grief to struggle against these limits?”

"The best language is that which is not spoken, the best form of action is that which is without deeds.

"The best language is unspoken. The best action involves no deeds.

Then there is no need to conform or adapt.

Spread out your knowledge and it will be found to be shallow."

Spread out your knowledge, and you will find it is shallow."

It will not cover everything that can be known. "Read this chapter," says one critic, "and the Tripitaka and the Mahâyâna will open out before you as beneath a sharp-edged blade."