and old,--such are the sorrows of the people.
"Capacity unequal to one's duties, and inability to carry on routine work, absence of clean-handedness, and carelessness among subordinates, lack of distinction and want of preferment,--such are the sorrows of ministers.
"The Court without loyal ministers and the State in rebellion, the artisan unskilful and the tribute unsatisfactory, the periodical levées unattended and the Son of Heaven displeased,--such are the sorrows of the princes.
"The two great principles of nature working inharmoniously, heat and cold coming at irregular seasons so that men and things suffer, the princes rebellious and fighting among themselves so that the people perish, music and ceremonies ill regulated, wealth dissipated, the relationships of man disregarded, the masses sunk in immorality,--such are the sorrows which fall to the share of the Son of Heaven.
"But now you, Sir, occupying neither the more exalted position of ruler nor performing the subordinate functions of minister, nevertheless take upon yourself to regulate music and ceremonies and to distinguish the relationships of man, in order to reform the masses. Are you not travelling out of your own sphere?
"Further, men have eight blemishes, and there are four things which obstruct business. These should be investigated.
"Meddling with matters which do not matter to you, is prying.
"To push one's way in, regardless of neglect, is to be forward.
"To adapt one's thoughts and arrange one's words, is sycophancy.
"To applaud a person, right or wrong, is flattery.
"To love speaking evil of others, is slander.
"To sever friendships and break ties, is mischievousness.
"To praise people falsely with a view to injure them, is malice.
"To give ready assent with a view to worm out the wishes of others, good and bad alike, is to be a hypocrite.
"These eight blemishes cause a man to throw others into confusion and bring injury upon himself. The superior man will not have him for a friend; the enlightened prince will not employ him as his minister.
"To love the conduct of great affairs, and to introduce change into established order with a view to gain reputation,--this is ambition.
"To strive to get all into one's own hands, and to usurp what should be at the disposal of others,--this is greed.
"To know one's faults but not to correct them, to receive admonition but only to plunge deeper,--this is obstinacy.
"To suffer those who are like oneself, but as for those unlike not to credit them with the virtues they really possess,--this is bigotry.
"Such are the four things which obstruct business. And only he who can put aside the above eight and abstain from the above four is fit for instruction."
At this Confucius heaved a sigh of distress. Then having twice prostrated himself, he arose and said, "Twice was I driven from Lu. I was tabooed in Wei. My tree was cut down in Sung. I was surrounded by the Ch'êns and the Ts'ais. I know not what my fault is that I should have suffered these four persecutions."
"Dear me!" said the old man in a vexed tone, "How slow of perception you are.
"There was once a man who was so afraid of his shadow and so disliked his own footsteps that he determined to run away from them. But the oftener he raised his feet the more footsteps he made, and though he ran very hard his shadow never left him. From this he inferred that he went too slowly, and ran as hard as he could without resting, the consequence being that his strength broke down and he died. He was not aware that by going into the shade he would have got rid of his shadow, and that by keeping still he would have put an end to his footsteps.
Fool that he was!
"Now you occupy yourself with charity and duty to one's neighbour. You examine into the distinction of like and unlike, the changes of motion and rest, the canons of giving and receiving, the emotions of love and hate, and the restraint of joy and anger. Yet you cannot avoid the calamities you speak of.
"Reverently care for your body. Carefully preserve your natural purity. Leave externals to others. Then you will not be involved. But as it is, instead of improving yourself you are trying to improve other people. Surely this is dealing with the external."
"Then may I enquire," said Confucius in a tone of distress, "what is the original purity?"
"Our original purity," replied the fisherman, "is the perfection of truth unalloyed. Without this, we cannot influence others. Hence, those who weep to order, though they mourn, do not grieve. Those who assume anger, though violent, do not inspire awe. Those who affect friendship, though they smile, are not in unison."
"Real mourning grieves in silence. Real anger awes without expression.
Real friendship is unison without the aid of smiles. Our emotions are dependent upon the original purity within; and accordingly we hold the latter in esteem.
"If applied to human affairs, then in serving our parents we are filial, in serving our prince we are loyal, in the banquet hour we are merry, in the hour of mourning we are sad.
"The object of loyalty is successful service; of a banquet, mirth; of mourning, grief; of serving parents, gratifying their wishes. If the service is accomplished, it matters not that no trace remain.
In the way of kudos to the accomplisher.
If parents be gratified, it matters not how. If a banquet results in mirth, the accessories are of no importance. If there be real grief in mourning, it matters not what ceremonies may be employed.
"Ceremonial is the invention of man. Our original purity is given to us from God. It is as it is, and cannot be changed. Wherefore the true Sage models himself upon God, and holds his original purity in esteem.
He is independent of human exigencies. Fools, however, reverse this.
They cannot model themselves upon God, and have to fall back on man.
They do not hold original purity in esteem. Consequently they are ever suffering the vicissitudes of mortality, and never reaching the goal.
Alas! you, Sir, were early steeped in deceit, and are late in hearing the great doctrine."
Confucius, having again prostrated himself twice, arose and said, "It has been a godsend to meet you, Sir, to-day. Pray allow me to follow you as your servant, that I may benefit by your teaching. I venture to ask where you live that I may enter upon my duties and learn the great doctrine."
"I have heard," replied the old man, "that if a man is a fit companion, one may travel with him into the uttermost depths of TAO. But that if he is not a fit companion, and does not know TAO, one must avoid his company, that no harm may befall. Excuse me, I must leave you."
Thereupon he pushed off his boat, and disappeared among the reeds.
"Yen Yüan then brought up the chariot, and Tzŭ Lu offered the hand-cord to Confucius. But the latter paid no attention. He waited until the ripples on the water had smoothed down and the sound of the punt-pole had died away, before he ventured to get up.
Tzŭ Lu, who was at the side of the chariot, enquired saying, "Master, I have been in your service now for a long time, yet never did I see you treat any man like this. In the presence of a ruler of ten thousand or a thousand chariots, I have never seen you treated other than with great respect, while you yourself would wear a haughty air. Yet before this old fisherman, leaning on his punt-pole, you cringe and bow and prostrate yourself twice before answering. Is not this too much? The disciples do not know what to make of it. Why this behaviour to an old fisherman?"
"Yu!" cried Confucius, resting on the bar of the chariot; "it is difficult to make anything of you. You have long studied ceremonies and duty to your neighbour, yet you have not succeeded in getting rid of the old evil nature. Come here, and I will tell you.
"To meet an elder without respect is want of ceremony. To see a Sage and not to honour him, is not to be in charity with man. Unless you are in charity with man, you cannot humble yourself before a fellow-creature. And unless you can honestly do this, you can never attain to that state of original purity; but the body will constantly suffer. Alas! there is no greater evil than not to be in charity with man. Yet in such a plight, O Yu, are you.
"Further. TAO is the source of all creation. Men have it, and live.
They lose it, and die. Affairs in antagonism thereto, fail; in accordance therewith, succeed. Therefore, wherever TAO abides, there is the reverence of the true Sage. And as this old fisherman may be said to possess TAO, could I venture not to respect him?"
CHAPTER XXXII.
LIEH TZŬ.
_Argument_:--Outward manifestation of inward grace--Its of Confucius--Tests of virtue--Chuang Tzŭ declines office--His death.
When Lieh Tzŭ Lieh Yü K'ou, a name well known in connection with TAO. But it is extremely doubtful if such a man ever lived. His record is not given by the historian Ssŭ-ma Ch'ien, and he may well have been no more than an allegorical personage created by Chuang Tzŭ for purposes of illustration. It was however thought necessary under the Han dynasty to supply his "Works"; and the treatise thus provided still passes under his name, though generally regarded as a forgery. See pp. 4, 5.
went to Ch'i, half way there he turned round and came back. Falling in with Poh Hun Wu Jen, the latter said, "How is it you are so soon back again?"
"I was afraid," replied Lieh Tzŭ.
"Afraid of what?" asked Poh Hun Wu Jen.
"Out of ten restaurants at which I ate," said Lieh Tzŭ, "five would take no payment."
"And what is there to be afraid of in that?" enquired Poh Hun Wu Jen.
"The truth within not being duly assimilated," replied Lieh Tzŭ, "a certain brightness is visible externally. And to conquer men's hearts by force of the external is to induce in oneself a disregard for authority and age which is the precursor of trouble.
"A restaurant keeper is one who lives by retailing soup. When his returns are counted up, his profit is but small, and his influence is next to nothing. But if such a man could act thus, how much more the ruler of a large State? His bodily powers worn out in the duties of his position, his mental powers exhausted by details of administration, he would entrust me with the government and stimulate me by reward. That is what I was afraid of."
"Your inner lights are good," replied Poh Hun Wu Jen; "but if you remain stationary at this point, the world will still gather around you."
Contrary to TAO.
Shortly afterwards Poh Hun Wu Jen went to visit Lieh Tzŭ, and lo! his court-yard was filled with boots.
Of the visitors come to hear him. These were left outside the door, in accordance with an ancient custom mentioned in the _Book of Rites_.
See p. 368.
Poh Hun Wu Jen stood there awhile, facing the north, his cheek all wrinkled by resting it on his staff. Then, without a word, he departed.
Upon this being announced to Lieh Tzŭ, By the servant whose duty it was to receive guests.
he seized his shoes and ran out barefoot.
In his hurry.
When he reached the outer gate, he called aloud, "Master! now that you have come, will you not give me medicine?"
"It is all over!" cried Poh Hun Wu Jen. "I told you that the world would gather around you. It is not that you can make people gather around you. You cannot prevent them from doing so. Of what use would my instruction be? Exerting influence thus unduly over others, you are by them influenced in turn. You disturb your natural constitution, and are of no further account.
None of your companions Warn you of this.
Their paltry talk Is but poison to a man.
They are not awake, not alive to the situation.
How should one of these help you?
In the original, these lines rhyme.
"The shrewd grow weary, the wise grieve. Those who are without abilities have no ambitions. With full bellies they roam happily about, like drifting boats, not caring whither they are bound."
* * * * * There was a man of the Chêng State, named Huan. He pursued his studies at a place called Ch'iu-shih. After three years only, he had graduated as a Confucianist; and like a river which fertilises its banks to a distance of nine _li_, so did his good influence reach into three families.
His father's, his mother's, and his wife's.
He caused his younger brother to graduate as a Mihist. But inasmuch as in the question of Confucianism _versus_ Mihism, The philosophy of Mih Tzŭ, who taught the doctrine of universal love, etc. See pp. 17, 440.
the father took the side of the Mihist, at the end of ten years Huan committed suicide.
Then the father dreamed that Huan appeared to him and said, "It was I who caused your son to become a Mihist. Why give all the credit to him who is but as the fruit of an autumn pine?"
Various interpretations of this simile are given: none satisfactory.
_E.g._ (1) Like a dry cone. (2) Which another has planted and reared.
Verily God does not reward man for what he does, but for what he is.
_I.e._ for the natural, not for the artificial.
And it was in this sense that the younger brother was caused to become a Mihist.
He was naturally so inclined.
Whereas a man who should regard his distinctive abilities as of his own making, without reference to his parents, would be like the man of Ch'i who dug a well and then wanted to keep others away from it.
Forgetting that God put the spring there in the first instance.
Hence the saying that the men of to-day are all Huans.
Wherefore it follows that men of true virtue are unconscious of its possession. How much more then the man of TAO? This is what the ancients called escaping the vengeance of God.
Which would be incurred by aping his goodness.
The true Sage rests in that which gives rest, and not in that which does not give rest. The world rests in that which does not give rest, and not in that which does give rest.
The natural and the artificial.
* * * * * Chuang Tzŭ said, "To know TAO is easy. The difficulty lies in the elimination of speech. To know TAO without speech appertains to the natural. To know TAO with speech appertains to the artificial. The men of old were natural, not artificial.
"Chu P'ing Man spent a large patrimony in learning under Chih Li I how to kill dragons.
To acquire TAO. There is no record of the persons mentioned.
By the end of three years he was perfect, but there was no direction in which he could show his skill.
TAO cannot be put into practice.
"The true Sage regards certainties as uncertainties; therefore he is never up in arms.
In a state of mental disturbance.
Men in general regard uncertainties as certainties; therefore they are constantly up in arms. To accustom oneself to arms causes one to fly to arms on every provocation; and to trust to arms is to perish."
"The intelligence of the mean man does not rise beyond bribes and letters of recommendation. His mind is be-clouded with trivialities.
Yet he would penetrate the mystery of TAO and of creation, and rise to participation in the ONE. The result is that he is confounded by time and space; and that trammelled by objective existences, he fails to reach apprehension of that age before anything was.
"But the perfect man,--he carries his mind back to the period before the beginning. Content to rest in the oblivion of nowhere, passing away like flowing water, he is merged in the clear depths of the infinite.
"Alas! man's knowledge reaches to the hair on a hair, but not to eternal peace."
* * * * * A man of the Sung State, named Ts'ao Shang, acted as political agent for the prince of Sung at the court of the Ch'in State. When he went thither, he had a few carriages; but the prince of Ch'in was so pleased with him that he added one hundred more.
On his return to Sung, he visited Chuang Tzŭ and said, "As for living in poverty in a dirty hovel, earning a scanty subsistence by making sandals, with shrivelled face and yellow ears,--this I could not do. Interviewing a powerful ruler, with a retinue of a hundred carriages,--that is my forte."
"When the prince of Ch'in is sick," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "and he summons his physician to open a boil or cleanse an ulcer, the latter gets one carriage. The man who licks his piles gets five. The more degrading the work, the greater the number of carriages given. You, Sir, must have been attending to his piles to get so many carriages. Begone with you!"
"Not," says Lin Hsi Chung, "from the pen of Chuang Tzŭ."
* * * * * Duke Ai of Lu asked Yen Ho, saying, "Were I to make Confucius a pillar of my realm, would the State be profited thereby?"
"It would be most perilous!" replied Yen Ho. "Confucius is a man of outward show and of specious words. He mistakes the branch for the root.
Accessories for fundamentals.
He seeks to impress the people by an overbearing demeanour, the hollowness of which he does not perceive. If he suits you, and you entrust him with the welfare of the State, it will only be by mistake that he will succeed.
This passage is variously interpreted.
"To cause the people to leave the true and study the false does not so much affect the people of to-day as those of coming generations.
Wherefore it is better not to have Confucius.
"The difficulty of governing lies in the inability to practise self-effacement. Man does not govern as God does.
Regardless of self.
"Merchants and traders are altogether out of the pale.
Of TAO.
Or if chance ever brings them within it, their rights are never freely admitted.
"External punishments are inflicted by metal and wood. Internal punishments are inflicted by anxiety and remorse. Fools who incur external punishment are treated with metal or wood. Those who incur internal punishment are devoured by the conflict of emotions. It is only the pure and perfect man who can succeed in avoiding both."
* * * * * Confucius said, "The heart of man is more dangerous than mountains and rivers, more difficult to understand than Heaven itself. Heaven has its periods of spring, summer, autumn, winter, daytime and night. Man has an impenetrable exterior, and his motives are inscrutable. Thus some men appear to be retiring when they are really forward. Others have abilities, yet appear to be worthless. Others are compliant, yet gain their ends. Others take a firm stand, yet yield the point. Others go slow, yet advance quickly.
"Those who fly to duty towards their neighbour as though thirsting after it, drop it as though something hot. Thus the loyalty of the superior man is tested by employing him at a distance, his respectfulness by employing him near at hand. His ability, by troublesome missions. His knowledge, by unexpected questions. His trustworthiness, by specification of time limits. His integrity by entrusting him with money. His fidelity, by dangerous tasks. His decorum, by filling him with wine. His morality, by placing him in disreputable surroundings. Under the application of these nine tests, the inferior man stands revealed.
"Chêng K'ao Fu, on receiving his first appointment, bowed his head. On receiving his second appointment, he hunched his back. On receiving his third appointment, he fell upon his face, walking away at the side of the path.
Instead of in the middle as any blustering braggart would have done.
Who would not try to be like him?
"Yet ordinary men, on their first appointment, become self-important.
On their second, they give themselves airs in their chariots. On their third, they call their own fathers by their personal names.
As we should say, "by their Christian names." The term "fathers" includes uncles.
Which of them can be compared with Hsü Yu of old?
"There is nothing more fatal than intentional virtue, when the mind looks outwards.
Spontaneity is the essence of real virtue.
For by thus looking outwards, the power of introspection is destroyed.
"There are five sources of injury to virtue.
Eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and thought.
Of these, that which aims at virtue is the chief. What is it to aim at virtue? Why a man who aims at virtue practises what he approves and condemns what he does not practise.
Compounds for sins he feels inclined to By damning those he has no mind to.
"There are eight causes of failure, three certain elements of success.
There are six sources of strength and weakness.
"Beauty, a long beard, size, height, robustness, grace, courage, daring,--these eight, in which men surpass their fellows, are therefore passports to failure.
"Modesty, compliance, humility,--these three are sure roads to success.
"Wisdom manifests itself in the external.
Whereby the internal suffers.
Courage makes itself many enemies. Charity and duty towards one's neighbour incur many reproaches.
Three sources of weakness.
"To him who can penetrate the mystery of life, all things are revealed.
He who can estimate wisdom at its true value, _Sc._ at nothing.
is wise. He who comprehends the Greater Destiny, becomes himself part of it.
Of the great scheme of the universe, seen and unseen.
He who comprehends the Lesser Destiny, resigns himself to the inevitable."
Referring to life as ordinarily regarded by mortals. Three sources of strength.
* * * * * A man who had been to see the prince of Sung and had been presented with ten chariots, was putting on airs in the presence of Chuang Tzŭ.
"At Ho-Shang," said the latter, "there was a poor man who supported his family by plaiting rushes. One day his son dived into the river and got a pearl worth a thousand ounces of silver. The father bade him fetch a stone and smash it to pieces, explaining that he could only have got such a pearl very deep down from under the nose of the dragon, which must have been asleep. And he said he was afraid that when the dragon waked, the boy would have a poor chance.
If found with it in his possession.
"Now the State of Sung is deeper than a deep river, and the prince of Sung is fiercer than a dragon. To get these chariots, you must have caught him asleep. And when he wakes, you will be ground to powder."
* * * * * Some prince having invited Chuang Tzŭ to enter his service, Chuang Tzŭ said in reply to the envoy, "Sir, have you ever noticed a sacrificial ox? It is bedecked with ribbons and fares sumptuously. But when it comes to be slaughtered for the temple, would it not gladly exchange places with some neglected calf?"
Quoted, with variants, by the historian Ssŭ-ma Ch'ien, in his biographical notice of Chuang Tzŭ. See _Introduction_.
* * * * * When Chuang Tzŭ was about to die, his disciples expressed a wish to give him a splendid funeral. But Chuang Tzŭ said, "With Heaven and Earth for my coffin and shell; with the sun, moon, and stars as my burial regalia; and with all creation to escort me to the grave,--are not my funeral paraphernalia ready to hand?"
And had he not high honour?-- The hillside for his pall; To lie in state while angels wait With stars for tapers tall; And the dark rock pines like nodding plumes Above his bier to wave, And God's own hand in that lonely land To lay him in the grave.
_The Burial of Moses_ (Mrs. Alexander).
"We fear," argued the disciples, "lest the carrion kite should eat the body of our Master"; to which Chuang Tzŭ replied, "Above ground I shall be food for kites; below I shall be food for mole-crickets and ants.
Why rob one to feed the other?
With this may be compared the reply of Diogenes on a similar occasion.
When the old cynic asked to be left unburied, his friends objected that he would be eaten by dogs and birds.
"Place my staff near me," said Diogenes, "that I may drive them away."
"How will you manage that?" enquired the friends. "You will not be conscious."
"What then will it matter to me to be torn by beasts," cried Diogenes, "if I am not conscious of it?"
"If you adopt, as absolute, a standard of evenness which is so only relatively, your results will not be absolutely even. If you adopt, as absolute, a criterion of right which is so only relatively, your results will not be absolutely right. Those who trust to their senses become slaves to objective existences. Those alone who are guided by their intuitions find the true standard. So far are the senses less reliable than the intuitions. Yet fools trust to their senses to know what is good for mankind, with alas! but external results."
As the genuine text of the _Spring and Autumn_ ends with the appearance of the _ch'i lin_ (or _kilin_) and the death of Confucius, so have disciples of Chuang Tzŭ agreed that the genuine text of Chuang Tzŭ comes to a fitting close at the death-bed of their great Master.
The final chapter is but a summary of the whole, compiled by the early editors of the work.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE EMPIRE.
[Summary by early editors.]
Systems of government are many. Each man thinks his own perfect. Where then does what the ancients called the system of TAO come in? There is nowhere where it does not come in.
It may be asked whence our spirituality, whence our intellectuality.
The true Sage is born; the prince is made. Yet all proceed from an original ONE.
He who does not separate from the Source is one with God. He who does not separate from the essence is a spiritual man. He who does not separate from the reality is a perfect man. He who makes God the source, and TÊ the root, and TAO the portal, passively falling in with the modifications of his environment,--he is the true Sage.
These are but four different denominations of the ideal man.
He who practises charity as a kindness, duty to one's neighbour as a principle, ceremony as a convenience, music as a pacificator, and thus becomes compassionate and charitable,--he is a superior man.
We sink here to a lower level, though still a high one. The "superior man" is the ideal man of Confucian ethics. In him divinity finds no place.
He who regulates his conduct by law, who regards fame as an external adjunct, who verifies his hypotheses, who bases his judgment upon proof,--such men rank one, two, three, four, etc. It is thus that officials rank. In a strict sense of duty, in making food and raiment of paramount importance, in caring for and nourishing the old, the weak, the orphan, and the widow, they all exemplify the principle of true government.
Partly, if not wholly. This the dead level of ordinary mortality, still within the operation of TAO.
Thus far-reaching was the extension of TAO among the ancients.
The companion of the gods, the purifier of the universe, it nourishes all creation, it unites the empire, it benefits the masses.
Illuminating the fundamental, it is bound up with the accessory, reaching to all points of the compass and to the opposite extremes of magnitude. There is indeed nowhere where it is not!
How it enlightened the polity of past ages is evidenced in the records which historians have preserved to us. Its presence in the Canons of _Poetry_, _History_, _Rites_, and _Music_, has been made clear by many scholars of Chou and Lu. It informs the Canon of _Poetry_ with its vigour, the Canon of _History_ with its usefulness, the Canon of _Rites_ with its adaptability, the Canon of _Music_ with its harmonising influence, the Canon of _Changes_ with its mysterious Principles, and the _Spring and Autumn_ with its discriminations.
Spread over the whole world, it is focussed in the Middle Kingdom, and the learning of all schools renders constant homage to its power.
But when the world is disorganised, true Sages do not manifest themselves, TAO ceases to exist as ONE, and the world becomes cognisant of the idiosyncrasies of the individual. These are like the senses of hearing, sight, smell, and taste,--not common to each organ. Or like the skill of various artisans,--each excellent of its kind and each useful in its turn, but not equally at the command of all.
Consequently, when a mere specialist comes forward and dogmatises on the beauty of the universe the principles which underlie all creation, the position occupied by the ancients in reference to the beauty of the universe, and the limits of the supernatural,--it follows that the TAO of inner wisdom and of outer strength is obscured and prevented from asserting itself. Every one alas! regards the course he prefers as the infallible course. The various schools diverge never to meet again; and posterity is debarred from viewing the original purity of the universe and the grandeur of the ancients. For the system of TAO is scattered in fragments over the face of the earth.
Not to covet posthumous fame, nor to aim at dazzling the world, nor to pose as a benefactor of mankind, but to be a strict self-disciplinarian while lenient to the faults of others,--herein lay the TAO of the ancients.
Mih Tzŭ and Ch'in Hua Li A disciple of Mih Tzŭ.
became enthusiastic followers of TAO, but they pushed the system too far, carrying their practice to excess. The former wrote an essay _Against Music_, and another which he entitled _Economy_.
To be found in the collection which passes under the name of Mih Tzŭ.
There was to be no singing in life, no mourning after death. He taught universal love and beneficence towards one's fellow men, without contentions, without censure of others. He loved learning, but not in order to become different from others. Yet his views were not those of the ancient Sages, whose music and rites he set aside.
The Yellow Emperor gave us the _Hsien-ch'ih_. Yao gave us the _Ta-chang_. Shun, the _Ta-shao_. Yü, the _Ta-hsia_. T'ang, the _Ta-hu_.
Wên Wang, the _P'i-yung_. Wu Wang and Chou Kung added the _Wu_.
Famous musical compositions.
The mourning ceremonial of old was according to the estate of each, and determined in proportion to rank. Thus, the body of the Son of Heaven was enclosed in a seven-fold coffin. That of a feudal prince, in a five-fold coffin. That of a minister, in a three-fold coffin. That of a private individual, in a two-fold coffin. But now Mih Tzŭ would have no singing in life, no mourning after death, and a single coffin of only three inches in thickness as the rule for all alike!
Such doctrines do not illustrate his theory of universal love; They betray a want of sympathy with human weaknesses.
neither does his practice of them establish the fact of his own personal self-respect. They may not suffice to destroy his system altogether; though it is unreasonable to prohibit singing, and weeping, and rejoicing in due season.
He would have men toil through life and hold death in contempt. But this teaching is altogether too unattractive. It would land mankind in sorrow and lamentation. It would be next to impossible as a practical system, and cannot, I fear, be regarded as the TAO of the true Sage.
It would be diametrically opposed to human passions, and as such would not be tolerated by the world. Mih Tzŭ himself might be able to carry it out; but not the rest of the world. And when one separates from the rest of the world, his chances of developing an ideal State become small indeed.
Mih Tzŭ argued in favour of his system as follows:--Of old, the great Yü drained off the flood of waters, and caused rivers and streams to flow through the nine divisions of the empire and the parts adjacent thereto,--three hundred great rivers, three thousand branches, and streams without number. With his own hands he plied the bucket and dredger, in order to reduce confusion to uniformity, Make all streams flow to the sea.
until his calves and shins had no hair left upon them. The wind bathed him, the rain combed him; but he marked out the nations of the world, and was in very truth a Sage. And because he thus sacrificed himself to the commonwealth, ages of Mihists to come would also wear short serge jackets and straw sandals, and toil day and night without stopping, making self-mortification their end and aim, and say to themselves, "If we cannot do this, we do not follow the TAO of Yü, and are unworthy to be called Mihists."
The disciples of Hsiang Li Ch'in, A professor of Mihism.
the followers of the five princes, Mihists of the south, such as K'u Huo, Chi Ch'ih, and Têng Ling,--all these studied the canon of Mih Tzŭ, but their disagreements and agreements were not identical. They called each other schismatics, and quarrelled over the "hard and white," the "like and unlike," and argued over questions of "odd and even." Chü Tzŭ was their Sage, and they wanted to canonise him as a saint, that they might carry on his doctrines into after ages. Even now these differences are not settled.
Thus we see that Mih Tzŭ and Ch'in Hua Li, while right in theory, were wrong in practice. They would merely have taught mankind to vie with each other in working the hair off their calves and shins. The evil of that system would have predominated over the good. Nevertheless, Mih Tzŭ was undoubtedly a well-meaning man. In spite of failure, with all its withering influences, he stuck to his text. He may be called a man of genius.
But not a true Sage.
Not to be involved in the mundane, not to indulge in the specious, not to be overreaching with the individual, nor antagonistic to the public; but to desire the tranquillity of the world in general with a view to the prolongation of life, to seek no more than sufficient for the requirements of oneself and others, and by such a course to purify the heart,--herein lay the TAO of the ancients.
Sung Hsing and Yin Wên became enthusiastic followers of TAO. They adopted a cap, shaped like the Hua Mountain, as a badge. They bore themselves with kindly discrimination towards all things. They spoke of the passive qualities of the heart as though they had been active; and declared that whosoever could bring joy among mankind and peace within the girdle of ocean should be made ruler over them.
They suffered obloquy without noticing the insult. They preserved the people from strife. They prohibited aggression and caused arms to lie unused. They saved their generation from wars, and carried their system over the whole empire, to the delight of the high and to the improvement of the lowly. Though the world would have none of them, yet they struggled on and would not give way. Hence it was said that when high and low became tired of seeing them, they intruded themselves by force. In spite of all this, they did too much for others, and too little for themselves.
"Give us," said they, "but five pints of rice, and it will be enough."
The master could not thus eat his fill; but the disciples, although starving, did not forget the world's claims.
This is not satisfactorily explained by any commentator. Kuo Hsiang says that these two men regarded the world as their "master."
Day and night they toiled on, saying, "Must we necessarily live? Shall we ape the so-called saviours of mankind?"
"The superior man," they say, "is not a fault-finder. He does not appropriate the credit of others. He looks on one who does no good to the world as a worthless fellow. He regards prohibition of aggressive actions and causing arms to lie unused, as external; the diminution and restraint of our passions, as internal. In all matters, great or small, subtle or gross, such is the point to which he attains."