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1
Kwang-dze was walking on a mountain, when he saw a great tree
with huge branches and luxuriant foliage. A wood-cutter was
resting by its side, but he would not touch it, and, when asked
the reason, said, that it was of no use for anything, Kwang-dze
then said to his disciples, 'This tree, because its wood is good
for nothing, will succeed in living out its natural term of
years.' Having left the mountain, the Master lodged in the house
of an old friend, who was glad to see him, and ordered his
waiting-lad to kill a goose and boil it. The lad said, 'One of
our geese can cackle, and the other cannot;--which of them shall
I kill?' The host said, 'Kill the one that cannot cackle.'
Next day, his disciples asked Kwang-dze, saying, 'Yesterday the
tree on the mountain (you said) would live out its years because
of the uselessness of its wood, and now our host's goose has
died because of its want of power (to cackle);--which of these
conditions, Master, would you prefer to be in?' Kwang-dze
laughed and said, '(If I said that) I would prefer to be in a
position between being fit to be useful and wanting that fitness,
that would seem to be the right position, but it would not be so,
for it would not put me beyond being involved in trouble;
whereas one who takes his seat on the Tâo and its Attributes,
and there finds his ease and enjoyment, is not exposed to such a
contingency. He is above the reach both of praise and of
detraction; now he (mounts aloft) like a dragon, now he (keeps
beneath) like a snake; he is transformed with the (changing)
character of the time, and is not willing to addict himself to
any one thing; now in a high position and now in a low, he is in
harmony with all his surroundings; he enjoys himself at case
with the Author of all things; he treats things as things, and
is not a thing to them:--where is his liability to be involved
in trouble? This was the method of Shän Näng and Hwang-Tî. As to
those who occupy themselves with the qualities of things, and
with the teaching and practice of the human relations, it is not
so with them. Union brings on separation; success, overthrow;
sharp corners, the use of the file; honour, critical remarks;
active exertion, failure; wisdom, scheming; inferiority, being
despised:--where is the possibility of unchangeableness in any
of these conditions? Remember this, my disciples. Let your abode
be here,-in the Tâo and its Attribute.'
2
Î-liâo, an officer of Shih-nan, having an interview with the
marquis of Lû, found him looking sad, and asked him why he was
so. The marquis said, 'I have studied the ways of the former
kings, and cultivated the inheritance left me by my predecessors.
I reverence the spirits of the departed and honour the men of
worth, doing this with personal devotion, and without the
slightest intermission. Notwithstanding, I do not avoid meeting
with calamity, and this it is which makes me sad.' The officer
said, 'The arts by which you try to remove calamity are shallow.
Think of the close-furred fox and of the elegantly-spotted
leopard. They lodge in the forests on the hills, and lurk in
their holes among the rocks;--keeping still. At night they go
about, and during day remain in their lairs; so cautious are
they. Even if they are suffering from hunger, thirst, and other
distresses, they still keep aloof from men, seeking their food
about the Kiang and the Ho;--so resolute are they. Still they
are not able to escape the danger of the net or the trap; and
what fault is it of theirs? It is their skins which occasion
them the calamity.
'And is not the state of Kû your lordship's skin? I wish your
lordship to rip your skin from your body, to cleanse your heart,
to put away your desires, and to enjoy yourself where you will
be without the presence of any one. In the southern state of
Yüeh, there is a district called "the State of Established
Virtue." The people are ignorant and simple; their object is to
minimise the thought of self and make their desires few; they
labour but do not lay up their gains; they give but do not seek
for any return; they do not know what righteousness is required
of them in any particular case, nor by what ceremonies their
performances should be signalised; acting in a wild and
eccentric way as if they were mad, they yet keep to the grand
rules of conduct. Their birth is an occasion for joy; their
death is followed by the rites of burial. I should wish your
lordship to leave your state; to give up your ordinary ways, and
to proceed to that country by the directest course.'
The ruler said, 'The way to it is distant and difficult; there
are rivers and hills; and as I have neither boat nor carriage,
how am I to go?' The officer from Shih-nan rejoined, 'If your
lordship abjure your personal state, and give up your wish to
remain here, that will serve you for a carriage.' The ruler
rejoined, 'The way to it is solitary and distant, and there are
no people on it;--whom shall 1 have as my companions? I have no
provisions prepared, and how shall I get food?-how shall I be
able to get (to the country)?' The officer said, 'Minimise your
lordship's expenditure, and make your wants few, and though you
have no provisions prepared, you will find you have enough. Wade
through the rivers and float along on the sea, where however you
look, you see not the shore, and, the farther you go, you do not
see where your journey is to end;--those who escorted you to the
shore will return, and after that you will feel yourself far
away. Thus it is that he who owns men (as their ruler) is
involved in troubles, and he who is owned by men (as their ruler)
suffers from sadness; and hence Yâo would neither own men, nor
be owned by them. I wish to remove your trouble, and take away
your sadness, and it is only (to be done by inducing you) to
enjoy yourself with the Tâo in the land of Great Vacuity.
'If a man is crossing a river in a boat, and another empty
vessel comes into collision with it, even though he be a man of
a choleric temper, he will not be angry with it. If there be a
person, however, in that boat, he will bawl out to him to haul
out of the way. If his shout be not heard, he will repeat it;
and if the other do not then hear, he will call out a third time,
following up the shout with abusive terms. Formerly he was not
angry, but now he is; formerly (he thought) the boat was empty,
but now there is a person in it. If a man can empty himself of
himself, during his time in the world, who can harm him?'
3
Pei-kung Shê was collecting taxes for duke Ling of Wei, to be
employed in making (a peal of) bells. (In connexion with the
work) he built an altar outside the gate of the suburban wall;
and in three months the bells were completed, even to the
suspending of the upper and lower (tiers). The king's son Khing-kî
saw them, and asked what arts he had employed in the making of
them. Shê replied, 'Besides my undivided attention to them, 1
did not venture to use any arts. I have heard the saying, "After
all the carving and the chiselling, let the object be to return
to simplicity." I was as a child who has no knowledge; I was
extraordinarily slow and hesitating; they grew like the
springing plants of themselves. In escorting those who went and
meeting those who came, my object was neither to hinder the
corners nor detain the goers. I suffered those who strongly
opposed to take their way, and accepted those who did their best
to come to terms. I allowed them all to do the utmost they could,
and in this way morning and evening I collected the taxes. I did
not have the slightest trouble, and how much more will this be
the case with those who pursue the Great Way (on a grand scale)!'
4
Confucius was kept (by his enemies) in a state of siege between
Khän and Zhâi, and for seven days had no food cooked with fire
to eat. The Thâi-kung Zân went to condole with him, and said,
'You had nearly met with your death.' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'Do
you dislike death?' 'I do.' Then Zän continued, 'Let me try and
describe a way by which (such a) death may be avoided.--In the
eastern sea there are birds which go by the name Of Î-îs; they
fly low and slowly as if they were deficient in power. They fly
as if they were leading and assisting one another, and they
press on one another when they roost. No one ventures to take
the lead in going forward, or to be the last in going backwards.
In eating no one ventures to take the first mouthful, but
prefers the fragments left by others. In this way (the breaks
in) their line are not many, and men outside them cannot harm
them, so that they escape injury.
'The straight tree is the first to be cut down; the well of
sweet water is the first to be exhausted. Your aim is to
embellish your wisdom so as to startle the ignorant, and to
cultivate your person to show the unsightliness of others. A
light shines around you as if you were carrying with you the sun
and moon, and thus it is that you do not escape such calamity.
Formerly I heard a highly accomplished man say, "Those who boast
have no merit. The merit which is deemed complete will begin to
decay. The fame which is deemed complete will begin to wane."
Who can rid himself of (the ideas of) merit and fame, and return
and put himself on the level of the masses of men? The practice
of the Tâo flows abroad, but its master does not care to dwell
where it can be seen; his attainments in it hold their course,
but he does not wish to appear in its display. Always simple and
commonplace, he may seem to be "bereft of reason. He obliterates
the traces of his action, gives up position and power, and aims
not at merit and fame. Therefore he does not censure men, and
men do not censure him. The perfect man does not seek to be
heard of; how is it that you delight in doing so Confucius said,
'Excellent;' and thereupon he took leave of his associates,
forsook his disciples, retired to the neighbourhood of a great
marsh, wore skins and hair cloth, and ate acorns and chestnuts.
He went among animals without causing any confusion among their
herds, and among birds without troubling their movements. Birds
and beasts did not dislike him; how much less would men do so!
5
Confucius asked Dze-sang Hû, saying, 'I was twice driven from
Lû; the tree was felled over me in Sung; I was obliged to
disappear from Wei; I was reduced to extreme distress in Shang
and Kâu; and I was kept in a state of siege between Khän and
Zhâi. I have encountered these various calamities; my intimate
associates are removed from me more and more; my followers and
friends are more and more dispersed;--why have all these things
befallen me?' Dze-sang Hû replied, 'Have you not heard of the
flight of Lin Hui of Kiâ;--how he abandoned his round jade
symbol of rank, worth a thousand pieces of silver, and hurried
away with his infant son on his back? If it be asked, "Was it
because of the market value of the child?" But that value was
small (compared with the value of the jade token). If it be
asked again, "Was it because of the troubles (of his office)?"
But the child would occasion him much more trouble. Why was it
then that, abandoning the jade token, worth a thousand pieces of
silver, he hurried away with the child on his back? Lin Hui
(himself) said, "The union between me and the token rested on
the ground of gain; that between me and the child was of
Heaven's appointment." Where the bond of union is its
profitableness, when the pressure of poverty, calamity,
distress, and injury come, the parties abandon one another; when
it is of Heaven's appointment, they hold in the same
circumstances to one another. Now between abandoning one
another, and holding to one another, the difference is great.
Moreover, the intercourse of superior men is tasteless as water,
while that of mean men is sweet as new wine. But the
tastelessness of the superior men leads on to affection, and the
sweetness of the mean men to aversion. The union which
originates without any cause will end in separation without any
cause.'
Confucius said, 'I have reverently received your instructions.'
And hereupon, with a slow step and an assumed air of ease, he
returned to his own house. There he made an end of studying and
put away his books. His disciples came no more to make their bow
to him (and be taught), but their affection for him increased
the more.
Another day Sang Hû said further to him, 'When Shun was about to
die, he charged Yü, saying, 'Be upon your guard. (The attraction
of) the person is not like that of sympathy; the (power of)
affection is not like the leading (of example). Where there is
sympathy, there will not be separation; where there is (the
leading of) example, there will be no toil. Where there is
neither separation nor toil, you will not have to seek the
decoration of forms to make the person attractive, and where
there is no such need of those forms, there will certainly be
none for external things.'
6
Kwang-dze in a patched dress of coarse cloth, and having his
shoes tied together with strings, was passing by the king of
Wei, who said to him, 'How great, Master, is your distress?'
Kwang-dze replied, 'It is poverty, not distress! While a scholar
possesses the Tâo and its Attributes, he cannot be going about
in distress. Tattered clothes and shoes tied on the feet are the
sign of poverty, and not of distress. This is what we call not
meeting with the right time. Has your majesty not seen the
climbing monkey? When he is among the plane trees, rottleras,
oaks, and camphor trees, he grasps and twists their branches
(into a screen), where he reigns quite at his ease, so that not
even Î or Phäng Mäng could spy him out. When, however, he finds
himself among the prickly mulberry and date trees, and other
thorns, he goes cautiously, casts sidelong glances, and takes
every trembling movement with apprehension;--it is not that his
sinews and bones are straitened, and have lost their suppleness,
but the situation is unsuitable for him, and he cannot display
his agility. And now when I dwell under a benighted ruler, and
seditious ministers, how is it possible for me not to be in
distress? My case might afford an illustration of the cutting
out the heart of Pî-kan!'
7
When Confucius was reduced to great distress between Khän and
Khâi, and for seven days he had no cooked food to eat, he laid
hold of a decayed tree with his left hand, and with his right
hand tapped it with a decayed branch, singing all the while the
ode of Piâo-shih . He had his instrument, but the notes were not
marked on it. There was a noise, but no blended melody. The
sound of the wood and the voice of the man came together like
the noise of the plough through the ground, yet suitably to the
feelings of the disciples around. Yen Hui, who was standing
upright, with his hands crossed on his breast, rolled his eyes
round to observe him. Kung-nî, fearing that Hui would go to
excess in manifesting how he honoured himself, or be plunged in
sorrow through his love for him, said to him, 'Hui, not to
receive (as evils) the inflictions of Heaven is easy; not to
receive (as benefits) the favours of men is difficult. There is
no beginning which was not an end. The Human and the Heavenly
may be one and the same. Who, for instance, is it that is now
singing?' Hui said, 'I venture to ask how not to receive (as
evils) the inflictions of Heaven is easy.' Kung-nî said,
'Hunger, thirst, cold, and heat, and having one's progress
entirely blocked up;--these are the doings of Heaven and Earth,
necessary incidents in the revolutions of things. They are
occurrences of which we say that we will pass on (composedly)
along with them. The minister of another does not dare to refuse
his commands; and if he who is discharging the duty of a
minister feels it necessary to act thus, how much more should we
wait with case on the commands of Heaven!'
'What do you mean by saying that not to receive (as benefits)
the favours of men is difficult?' Kung-nî said, 'As soon as one
is employed in office, he gets forward in all directions; rank
and emolument come to him together, and without end. But these
advantages do not come from one's self;--it is my appointed lot
to have such external good. The superior man is not a robber;
the man of worth is no filcher;--if I prefer such things, what
am I? Hence it is said, "There is no bird wiser than the
swallow." Where its eye lights on a place that is not suitable
for it, it does not give it a second glance. Though it may drop
the food from its mouth, it abandons it, and hurries off. It is
afraid of men, and yet it stealthily takes up its dwelling by
his; finding its protection in the altars of the Land and Grain.
'What do you mean by saying that there is no beginning which was
not an end?' Kung-nî said, 'The change--rise and dissolution--of
all things (continually) goes on, but we do not know who it is
that maintains and continues the process. How do we know when
any one begins? How do we know when he will end? We have simply
to wait for it, and nothing more.'
'And what do you mean by saying that the Human and the Heavenly
are one and the same?' Kung-nî said, 'Given man, and you have
Heaven; given Heaven, and you still have Heaven (and nothing
more). That man can not have Heaven is owing to the limitation
of his nature'. The sagely man quietly passes away with his
body, and there is an end of it.'
8
As Kwang Kâu was rambling in the park of Tiâo-ling he saw a
strange bird which came from the south. Its wings were seven
cubits in width, and its eyes were large, an inch in circuit. It
touched the forehead of Kâu as it passed him, and lighted in a
grove of chestnut trees. 'What bird is this?' said he, 'with
such great wings not to go on! and with such large eyes not to
see me!' He lifted up his skirts, and hurried with his
cross-bow, waiting for (an opportunity to shoot) it. (Meanwhile)
he saw a cicada, which had just alighted in a beautiful shady
spot, and forgot its (care for its) body. (just then), a preying
mantis raised its feelers, and pounced on the cicada, in its
eagerness for its prey, (also) forgetting (its care for) its
body; while the strange bird took advantage of its opportunity
to secure them both, in view of that gain forgetting its true
(instinct of preservation). Kwang Kâu with an emotion of pity,
said, 'Ah! so it is that things bring evil on one another, each
of these creatures invited its own calamity.' (With this) he put
away his cross-bow, and was hurrying away back, when the
forester pursued him with terms of reproach.
When he returned and went into his house, he did not appear in
his courtyard for three months. (When he came out), Lan Zü (his
disciple) asked him, saying, 'Master, why have you for this some
time avoided the courtyard so much?' Kwang-dze replied, 'I was
guarding my person, and forgot myself; I was looking at turbid
water, till I mistook the clear pool. And moreover I have heard
the Master say', "Going where certain customs prevail, you
should follow those customs." I was walking about in the park of
Tiâo-ling, and forgot myself. A strange bird brushed past my
forehead, and went flying about in the grove of chestnuts, where
it forgot the true (art of preserving itself). The forester of
the chestnut grove thought that I was a fitting object for his
reproach. These are the reasons why I have avoided the
courtyard.'
9
Yang-dze, having gone to Sung, passed the night in a
lodging-house, the master of which had two concubines;--one
beautiful, the other ugly. The ugly one was honoured, however,
and the beautiful one contemned. Yang-dze asked the reason, and
a little boy of the house replied, 'The beauty knows her beauty,
and we do not recognise it. The ugly one knows her ugliness, and
we do not recognise it.' Yang-dze said, 'Remember it, my
disciples. Act virtuously, and put away the practice of priding
yourselves on your virtue. If you do this, where can you go to
that you will not be loved?' |
