1
He who knows the part which the Heavenly (in him) plays, and
knows(also)that which the Human (in him ought to) play, has
reached the perfection (of knowledge). He who knows the part
which the Heavenly plays (knows) that it is naturally born with
him; he who knows the part which the Human ought to play (proceeds)
with the knowledge which he possesses to nourish it in the
direction of what he does not (yet) know:--to complete one's
natural term of years and not come to an untimely end in the
middle of his course is the fulness of knowledge. Although it be
so, there is an evil (attending this condition). Such knowledge
still awaits the confirmation of it as correct; it does so
because it is not yet determined. How do we know that what we
call the Heavenly (in us) is not the Human? and that what we
call the Human is not the Heavenly? There must be the True man,
and then there is the True knowledge.
2
What is meant by 'the True Man?' The True men of old did not
reject (the views of) the few; they did not seek to accomplish (their
ends) like heroes (before others); they did not lay plans to
attain those ends. Being such, though they might make mistakes,
they had no occasion for repentance; though they might succeed,
they had no self-complacency. Being such, they could ascend the
loftiest heights without fear; they could pass through water
without being made wet by it; they could go into fire without
being burnt; so it was that by their knowledge they ascended to
and reached the Tâo.
The True men of old did not dream when they slept, had no
anxiety when they awoke, and did not care that their food should
be pleasant. Their breathing came deep and silently. The
breathing of the true man comes (even) from his heels, while men
generally breathe (only) from their throats. When men are
defeated in argument, their words come from their gullets as if
they were vomiting. Where lusts and desires are deep, the
springs of the Heavenly are shallow.
The True men of old knew nothing of the love of life or of the
hatred of death. Entrance into life occasioned them no joy; the
exit from it awakened no resistance. Composedly they went and
came. They did not forget what their beginning had been, and
they did not inquire into what their end would be. They accepted
(their life) and rejoiced in it; they forgot (all fear of death),
and returned (to their state before life). Thus there was in
them what is called the want of any mind to resist the Tâo, and
of all attempts by means of the Human to assist the Heavenly.
Such were they who are called the True men.
3
Being such, their minds were free from all thought; their
demeanour was still and unmoved; their foreheads beamed
simplicity. Whatever coldness came from them was like that of
autumn; whatever warmth came from them was like that of spring.
Their joy and anger assimilated to what we see in the four
seasons. They did in regard to all things what was suitable, and
no one could know how far their action would go. Therefore the
sagely man might, in his conduct of war, destroy a state without
losing the hearts of the people; his benefits and favours might
extend to a myriad generations without his being a lover of men.
Hence he who tries to share his joys with others is not a sagely
man; he who manifests affection is not benevolent; he who
observes times and seasons (to regulate his conduct) is not a
man of wisdom; he to whom profit and injury are not the same is
not a superior man; he who acts for the sake of the name of
doing so, and loses his (proper) self is not the (right) scholar;
and he who throws away his person in a way which is not the true
(way) cannot command the service of others. Such men as Hû Pû-kieh,
Wû Kwang, Po-î, Shû-khî, the count of Kî, Hsü-yü, Kî Thâ, and
Shän-thû Tî, all did service for other men, and sought to secure
for them what they desired, not seeking their own pleasure.
4
The True men of old presented the aspect of judging others
aright, but without being partisans; of feeling their own
insufficiency, but being without flattery or cringing. Their
peculiarities were natural to them, but they were not
obstinately attached to them; their humility was evident, but
there was nothing of unreality or display about it. Their
placidity and satisfaction had the appearance of joy; their
every movement seemed to be a necessity to them. Their
accumulated attractiveness drew men's looks to them; their
blandness fixed men's attachment to their virtue. They seemed to
accommodate themselves to the (manners of their age), but with a
certain severity; their haughty indifference was beyond its
control. Unceasing seemed their endeavours to keep (their mouths)
shut; when they looked down, they had forgotten what they wished
to say.
They considered punishments to be the substance (of government,
and they never incurred it); ceremonies to be its supporting
wings (and they always observed them); wisdom (to indicate) the
time (for action, and they always selected it); and virtue to be
accordance (with others), and they were all-accordant.
Considering punishments to be the substance (of government), yet
their generosity appeared in the (manner of their) infliction of
death. Considering ceremonies to be its supporting wings, they
pursued by means of them their course in the world. Considering
wisdom to indicate the time (for action), they felt it necessary
to employ it in (the direction of) affairs. Considering virtue
to be accordance (with others), they sought to ascend its height
along with all who had feet (to climb it). (Such were they), and
yet men really thought that they did what they did by earnest
effort.
5
In this way they were one and the same in all their likings and
dislikings. Where they liked, they were the same; where they did
not like, they were the same. In the former case where they
liked, they were fellow-workers with the Heavenly (in them); in
the latter where they disliked, they were coworkers with the
Human in them. The one of these elements (in their nature) did
not overcome the other. Such were those who are called the True
men.
Death and life are ordained, just as we have the constant
succession of night and day;--in both cases from Heaven. Men
have no power to do anything in reference to them;--such is the
constitution of things. There are those who specially regard
Heaven as their father, and they still love It (distant as It is);--how
much more should they love That which stands out (Superior and
Alone)! Some specially regard their ruler as superior to
themselves, and will give their bodies to die for him; how much
more should they do so for That which is their true (Ruler)!
When the springs are dried up, the fishes collect together on
the land. Than that they should moisten one another there by the
damp about them, and keep one another wet by their slime, it
would be better for them to forget one another in the rivers and
lakes. And when men praise Yâo and condemn Kieh, it would be
better to forget them both, and seek the renovation of the Tâo.
6
There is the great Mass (of nature);--I find the support of my
body on it; my life is spent in toil on it; my old age seeks
ease on it; at death I find rest in it;--what makes my life a
good makes my death also a good. If you hide away a boat in the
ravine of a hill, and hide away the hill in a lake, you will say
that (the boat) is secure; but at midnight there shall come a
strong man and carry it off on his back, while you in the dark
know nothing about it. You may hide away anything, whether small
or great, in the most suitable place, and yet it shall disappear
from it. But if you could hide the world in the world, so that
there was nowhere to which it could be removed, this would be
the grand reality of the ever-during Thing. When the body of man
comes from its special mould, there is even then occasion for
joy; but this body undergoes a myriad transformations, and does
not immediately reach its perfection;--does it not thus afford
occasion for joys incalculable? Therefore the sagely man enjoys
himself in that from which there is no possibility of separation,
and by which all things are preserved. He considers early death
or old age, his beginning and his ending, all to be good, and in
this other men imitate him;--how much more will they do so in
regard to That Itself on which all things depend, and from which
every transformation arises!
7
This is the Tâo;--there is in It emotion and sincerity, but It
does nothing and has no bodily form. It may be handed down (by
the teacher), but may not be received (by his scholars). It may
be apprehended (by the mind), but It cannot be seen. It has Its
root and ground (of existence) in Itself. Before there were
heaven and earth, from of old, there It was, securely existing.
From It came the mysterious existences of spirits, from It the
mysterious existence of God. It produced heaven; It produced
earth. It was before the Thâi-kî, and yet could not be
considered high; It was below all space, and yet could not be
considered deep. It was produced before heaven and earth, and
yet could not be considered to have existed long; It was older
than the highest antiquity, and yet could not be considered old.
Shih-wei got It, and by It adjusted heaven and earth. Fû-hsî got
It, and by It penetrated to the mystery of the maternity of the
primary matter. The Wei-tâu got It, and from all antiquity has
made no eccentric movement. The Sun and Moon got It, and from
all antiquity have not intermitted (their bright shining).
Khan-pei got It, and by It became lord of Khwän-lun. Fäng-î got
It, and by It enjoyed himself in the Great River. Kien Wû got
It, and by It dwelt on mount Thâi. Hwang-Tî got It, and by It
ascended the cloudy sky. Kwan-hsü got It, and by It dwelt in the
Dark Palace. Yü-khiang got It, and by It was set on the North
Pole. Hsî Wang-mû got It, and by It had her seat in (the palace
of) Shâo-kwang. No one knows Its beginning; no one knows Its
end. Phäng Zû got It, and lived on from the time of the lord of
Yü to that of the Five Chiefs. Fû Yüeh got It, and by It became
chief minister to Wû-ting, (who thus) in a trice became master
of the kingdom. (After his death), Fû Yüeh mounted to the
eastern portion of the Milky Way, where, riding on Sagittarius
and Scorpio, he took his place among the stars.
8
Nan-po Dze-khwei, asked Nü Yü, saying, 'You are old, Sir, while
your complexion is like that of a child;--how is it so?' The
reply was, 'I have become acquainted with the Tâo.' The other
said, 'Can I learn the Tâo?' Nü Yü said, 'No. How can you? You,
Sir, are not the man to do so. There was Pû-liang Î who had the
abilities of a sagely man, but not the Tâo, while I had the Tâo,
but not the abilities. I wished, however, to teach him, if,
peradventure, he might become the sagely man indeed. If he
should not do so, it was easy (I thought) for one possessing the
Tâo of the sagely man to communicate it to another possessing
his abilities. Accordingly, I proceeded to do so, but with
deliberation. After three days, he was able to banish from his
mind all worldly (matters). This accomplished, I continued my
intercourse with him in the same way; and in seven days he was
able to banish from his mind all thought of men and things. This
accomplished, and my instructions continued, after nine days, he
was able to count his life as foreign to himself. This
accomplished, his mind was afterwards clear as the morning; and
after this he was able to see his own individuality. That
individuality perceived, he was able to banish all thought of
Past or Present. Freed from this, he was able to penetrate to
(the truth that there is no difference between) life and
death;--(how) the destruction of life is not dying, and the
communication of other life is not living. (The Tâo) is a thing
which accompanies all other things and meets them, which is
present when they are overthrown and when they obtain their
completion. Its name is Tranquillity amid all Disturbances,
meaning that such Disturbances lead to Its Perfection.'
'And how did you, being alone (without any teacher), learn all
this?' 'I learned it,' was the reply, 'from the son of Fû-mo; he
learned it from the grandson of Lo-sung; he learned it from
Shan-ming; he learned it from Nieh-hsü; he, from Hsü-yî; he,
from Wû-âo; he, from Hsüan-ming; he, from Zhan-liâo; and he
learned it from Î-shih.'
9
Dze-sze, Dze-yü, Dze-1î, and Dze-lâi, these four men, were
talking together, when some one said, 'Who can suppose the head
to be made from nothing, the spine from life, and the rump-bone
from death? Who knows how death and birth, living on and
disappearing, compose the one body?--I would be friends with
him.' The four men looked at one another and laughed, but no one
seized with his mind the drift of the questions. All, however,
were friends together.
Not long after Dze-yü fell ill, and Dze-sze went to inquire for
him. 'How great,' said (the sufferer), 'is the Creator! That He
should have made me the deformed object that I am!' He was a
crooked hunchback; his five viscera were squeezed into the upper
part of his body; his chin bent over his navel; his shoulder was
higher than his crown; on his crown was an ulcer pointing to the
sky; his breath came and went in gasps:--yet he was easy in his
mind, and made no trouble of his condition. He limped to a well,
looked at himself in it, and said, 'Alas that the Creator should
have made me the deformed object that I am!' Dze said, 'Do you
dislike your condition?' He replied, 'No, why should I dislike
it? If He were to transform my left arm into a cock, I should be
watching with it the time of the night; if He were to transform
my right arm into a cross-bow, I should then be looking for a
hsiâo to (bring down and) roast; if He were to transform my
rump-bone into a wheel, and my spirit into a horse, I should
then be mounting it, and would not change it for another steed.
Moreover, when we have got (what we are to do), there is the
time (of life) in which to do it; when we lose that (at death),
submission (is what is required). When we rest in what the time
requires, and manifest that submission, neither joy nor sorrow
can find entrance (to the mind). This would be what the ancients
called loosing the cord by which (the life) is suspended. But
one hung up cannot loose himself;--he is held fast by his bonds.
And that creatures cannot overcome Heaven (the inevitable) is a
long-acknowledged fact;-why should I hate my condition?'
10
Before long Dze-lâi fell ill, and lay gasping at the point of
death, while his wife and children stood around him wailing'.
Dze-lî went to ask for him, and said to them, 'Hush! Get out of
the way! Do not disturb him as he is passing through his
change.' Then, leaning against the door, he said (to the dying
man), 'Great indeed is the Creator! What will He now make you to
become? Where will He take you to? Will He make you the liver of
a rat, or the arm of an insect?
Dze-lâi replied, 'Wherever a parent tells a son to go, east,
west, south, or north, he simply follows the command. The Yin
and Yang are more to a man than his parents are. If they are
hastening my death, and I do not quietly submit to them, I shall
be obstinate and rebellious. There is the great Mass (of
nature);--I find the support of my body in it; my life is spent
in toil on it; my old age seeks ease on it; at death I find rest
on it:--what has made my life a good will make my death also a
good.
'Here now is a great founder, casting his metal. If the metal
were to leap up (in the pot), and say, "I must be made into a
(sword like the) Mo-yeh."
the great founder would be sure to regard it as uncanny. So,
again, when a form is being fashioned in the mould of the womb,
if it were to say, "I must become a man; I must become a man,"
the Creator would be sure to regard it as uncanny. When we once
understand that heaven and earth are a great melting-pot, and
the Creator a great founder, where can we have to go to that
shall not be right for us? We are born as from a quiet sleep,
and we die to a calm awaking.'
11
Dze-sang Hû, Mäng Dze-fan, and Dze-khin Kang, these three men,
were friends together. (One of them said), 'Who can associate
together without any (thought of) such association, or act
together without any (evidence of) such co-operation? Who can
mount up into the sky and enjoy himself amidst the mists,
disporting beyond the utmost limits (of things), and forgetting
all others as if this were living, and would have no end?' The
three men looked at one another and laughed, not perceiving the
drift of the questions; and they continued to associate together
as friends.
Suddenly, after a time, Dze-sang Hia died. Before he was buried,
Confucius heard of the event, and sent Dze-kung to go and see if
he could render any assistance. One of the survivors had
composed a ditty, and the other was playing on his lute. Then
they sang together in unison,
'Ah! come, Sang Hû ah! come, Sang Hû!
Your being true you've got again,
While we, as men, still here remain
Ohone!'
Dze-kung hastened forward to them, and said, 'I venture to ask
whether it be according to the rules to be singing thus in the
presence of the corpse?' The two men looked at each other, and
laughed, saying, 'What does this man know about the idea that
underlies (our) rules?' Dze-kung returned to Confucius, and
reported to him, saying, 'What sort of men are those? They had
made none of the usual preparations, and treated the body as a
thing foreign to them. They were singing in the presence of the
corpse, and there was no change in their countenances. I cannot
describe them;--what sort of men are they?' Confucius replied,
'Those men occupy and enjoy themselves in what is outside the
(common) ways (of the world), while I occupy and enjoy myself in
what lies within those ways. There is no common ground for those
of such different ways; and when 1 sent you to condole with
those men, I was acting stupidly. They, moreover, make man to be
the fellow of the Creator, and seek their enjoyment in the
formless condition of heaven and earth. They consider life to be
an appendage attached, an excrescence annexed to them, and death
to be a separation of the appendage and a dispersion of the
contents of the excrescence. With these views, how should they
know wherein death and life are to be found, or what is first
and what is last? They borrow different substances, and pretend
that the common form of the body is composed of them. They
dismiss the thought of (its inward constituents like) the liver
and gall, and (its outward constituents), the ears and eyes.
Again and again they end and they begin, having no knowledge of
first principles. They occupy themselves ignorantly and vaguely
with what (they say) lies outside the dust and dirt (of the
world), and seek their enjoyment in the business of doing
nothing. How should they confusedly address themselves to the
ceremonies practised by the common people, and exhibit
themselves as doing so to the ears and eyes of the multitude?'
Dze-kung said, 'Yes, but why do you, Master, act according to
the (common) ways (of the world)?' The reply was, 'I am in this
under the condemning sentence of Heaven. Nevertheless, I will
share with you (what I have attained to).' Dze-kung rejoined, 'I
venture to ask the method which you pursue;' and Confucius said,
'Fishes breed and grow in the water; man developes {sic--jbh} in
the Tâo. Growing in the water, the fishes cleave the pools, and
their nourishment is supplied to them. Developing in the Tâo,
men do nothing, and the enjoyment of their life is secured.
Hence it is said, "Fishes forget one another in the rivers and
lakes; men forget one another in the arts of the Tâo."'
Dze-kung said, 'I venture to ask about the man who stands aloof
from others.' The reply was, 'He stands aloof from other men,
but he is in accord with Heaven! Hence it is said, "The small
man of Heaven is the superior man among men; the superior man
among men is the small man of Heaven!"'
12
Yen Hui asked Kung-nî, saying, 'When the mother of Mäng-sun Zhâi
died, in all his wailing for her he did not shed a tear; in the
core of his heart he felt no distress; during all the mourning
rites, he exhibited no sorrow. Without these three things, he
(was considered to have) discharged his mourning well;--is it
that in the state of Lû one who has not the reality may yet get
the reputation of having it? I think the matter very strange.'
Kung-nî said, 'That Mäng-sun carried out (his views) to the
utmost. He was advanced in knowledge; but (in this case) it was
not possible for him to appear to be negligent (in his
ceremonial observances), but he succeeded in being really so to
himself Mäng-sun does not know either what purposes life serves,
or what death serves; he does not know which should be first
sought, and which last. If he is to be transformed into
something else, he will simply await the transformation which he
does not yet know. This is all he does. And moreover, when one
is about to undergo his change, how does he know that it has not
taken place? And when he is not about to undergo his change, how
does he know that it has taken place? Take the case of me and
you:--are we in a dream from which we have not begun to awake?
'Moreover, Mäng-sun presented in his body the appearance of
being agitated, but in his mind he was conscious of no loss. The
death was to him like the issuing from one's dwelling at dawn,
and no (more terrible) reality. He was more awake than others
were. When they wailed, he also wailed, having in himself the
reason why he did so. And we all have our individuality which
makes us what we are as compared together; but how do we know
that we determine in any case correctly that individuality?
Moreover you dream that you are a bird, and seem to be soaring
to the sky; or that you are a fish, and seem to be diving in the
deep. But you do not know whether we that are now speaking are
awake or in a dream. It is not the meeting with what is
pleasurable that produces the smile; it is not the smile
suddenly produced that produces the arrangement (of the person).
When one rests in what has been arranged, and puts away all
thought of the transformation, he is in unity with the
mysterious Heaven.'
13
Î-r Dze having gone to see Hsü Yû, the latter said to him, 'What
benefit have you received from Yâo?' The reply was, 'Yâo says to
me, You must yourself labour at benevolence and righteousness,
and be able to tell clearly which is right and which wrong (in
conflicting statements).' Hsü Yû rejoined, 'Why then have you
come to me? Since Yâo has put on you the brand of his
benevolence and righteousness, and cut off your nose with his
right and wrong, how will you be able to wander in the way of
aimless enjoyment, of unregulated contemplation, and the
ever-changing forms (of dispute)?' Î-r dze said, 'That may be;
but I should like to skirt along its hedges.' 'But,' said the
other, 'it cannot be. Eyes without pupils can see nothing of the
beauty of the eyebrows, eyes, and other features; the blind have
nothing to do with the green, yellow, and variegated colours of
the sacrificial robes.' Î-r dze rejoined, 'Yet, when Wû-kwang
lost his beauty, Kü-liang his strength, and Hwang-Tî his wisdom,
they all (recovered them) under the moulding (of your
system);--how do you know that the Maker will not obliterate the
marks of my branding, and supply my dismemberment, so that,
again perfect in my form, I may follow you as my teacher?' Hsû
Yü said, 'Ah! that cannot yet be known. I will tell you the
rudiments. O my Master! O my Master! He gives to all things
their blended qualities, and does not count it any
righteousness; His favours reach to all generations, and He does
not count it any benevolence; He is more ancient than the
highest antiquity, and does not count Himself old; He
overspreads heaven and supports the earth; He carves and
fashions all bodily forms, and does not consider it any act of
skill;--this is He in whom I find my enjoyment.'
14
Yen Hui said, 'I am making progress.' Kung-nî replied, 'What do
you mean?' 'I have ceased to think of benevolence and
righteousness,' was the reply. 'Very well; but that is not
enough.'
Another day, Hui again saw Kung-nî, and said, 'I am making
progress.' 'What do you mean?'
'Names of parties, of whom we know nothing. It is implied, we
must suppose, that they had suffered as is said by their own
inadvertence.
'I have lost all thought of ceremonies and music.' 'Very well,
but that is not enough.,
third day, Hui again saw (the Master), and said, 'I am making
progress.' 'What do you mean?' 'I sit and forget everything.'
Kung-nî changed countenance, and said, 'What do you mean by
saying that you sit and forget (everything)?' Yen Hui replied,
'My connexion with the body and its parts is dissolved; my
perceptive organs are discarded. Thus leaving my material form,
and bidding farewell to my knowledge, I am become one with the
Great Pervader . This I call sitting and forgetting all things.'
Kung-nî said, 'One (with that Pervader), you are free from all
likings; so transformed, you are become impermanent. You have,
indeed, become superior to me! I must ask leave to follow in
your steps.'
15
Dze-yü and Dze-sang were friends. (Once), when it had rained
continuously for ten days, Dze-yü said, 'I fear that Dze-sang
may be in distress.' So he wrapped up some rice, and went to
give it to him to eat. When he came to Dze-sang's door, there
issued from it sounds between singing and wailing; a lute was
struck, and there came the words, 'O Father! O Mother! O Heaven!
O Men!' The voice could not sustain itself, and the line was
hurriedly pronounced. Dze-yü entered and said, 'Why are you
singing, Sir, this line of poetry in such a way?' The other
replied, 'I was thinking, and thinking in vain, how it was that
I was brought to such extremity. Would my parents have wished me
to be so poor? Heaven overspreads all without any partial
feeling, and so does Earth sustain all;--would Heaven and Earth
make me so poor with any unkindly feeling? I was trying to find
out who had done it, and I could not do so. But here I am in
this extremity!--it is what was appointed for me!' |