_Sc._ TAO, the omnipresent, omnipotent Principle which invests even God himself with the power and attributes of divinity.
The careful student of pure Taoism will find however that the distinction between TAO and God is sometimes so subtle as altogether to elude his intelligence.
When the pond dries up, and the fishes are left upon dry ground, to moisten them with the breath or to damp them with spittle is not to be compared with leaving them in the first instance in their native rivers and lakes. And better than praising Yao and blaming Chieh would be leaving them both and attending to the development of TAO.
TAO gives me this form, this toil in manhood, this repose in old age, this rest in death. And surely that which is such a kind arbiter of my life is the best arbiter of my death.
A boat may be hidden in a creek, or in a bog, safe enough.
The text has "or a mountain in a bog," which taken with the context seems to me to be nonsense. Yet all the commentators labour to explain away the difficulty, instead of making the obvious change of "mountain" into "boat," to which change the forms of the two Chinese characters readily lend themselves. In over two thousand years of literary activity, it seems but rarely to have occurred to the Chinese But at midnight a strong man may come and carry away the boat on his back. The dull of vision do not perceive that however you conceal things, small ones in larger ones, there will always be a chance of losing them.
The boat is figurative of our mortal coil which cannot be hidden from decay.
But if you conceal the whole universe in the whole universe, there will be no place left wherein it may be lost. The laws of matter make this to be so.
To have attained to the human form must be always a source of joy. And then, to undergo countless transitions, with only the infinite to look forward to,--what incomparable bliss is that! Therefore it is that the truly wise rejoice in that which can never be lost, but endures alway.
The soul which as TAO, is commensurate only with time and space.
For if we can accept early death, old age, a beginning, and an end, As inseparable from Destiny,--already a step in the right direction.
why not that which informs all creation and is of all phenomena the Ultimate Cause?
The long chain of proximate causes reaches finality in TAO. Here we have the complete answer to such queries as that propounded to the Umbra by the Penumbra at the close of ch. ii.
TAO has its laws, and its evidences. It is devoid both of action and of form. It may be transmitted, but cannot be received.
So that the receiver can say he has it.
It may be obtained, but cannot be seen. Before heaven and earth were, TAO was. It has existed without change from all time. Spiritual beings drew their spirituality therefrom, while the universe became what we can see it now. To TAO, the zenith is not high, nor the nadir low; no point in time is long ago, nor by lapse of ages has it grown old.
To the infinite all terms and conditions are relative.
Hsi Wei obtained TAO, and so set the universe in order.
A legendary ruler of remote antiquity. In what sense he set the universe in order has not been authentically handed down.
Fu Hsi obtained it, and was able to establish eternal principles.
The first in the received list of Chinese sovereigns (B.C. 2852). This monarch is said to have invented the art of writing and to have taught his people to cook.
The Great Bear obtained it, and has never erred from its course. The sun and moon obtained it, and have never ceased to revolve. K'an P'i obtained it, and established the K'un-lun mountains.
The divinity of the sacred mountains here mentioned.
P'ing I obtained it, and rules over the streams. Chien Wu obtained it, and dwells on Mount T'ai.
See ch. i.
The Yellow Emperor obtained it, and soared upon the clouds to heaven.
The most famous of China's legendary rulers (B.C. 2697). He is said among other things to have invented wheeled vehicles, and generally to have given a start to the civilisation of his people. Some of Lao Tzŭ's sayings have been attributed to him; and by some he has been regarded as the first promulgator of TAO.
Chuan Hsü obtained it, and dwells in the Dark Palace.
A legendary ruler (B.C. 2513), of whose Dark Palace nothing is known.
Yü Ch'iang obtained it, and fixed himself at the North Pole.
As its presiding genius.
Hsi Wang Mu obtained it, and settled at Shao Kuang; since when, no one knows; until when, no one knows either.
A lady,--or a place, for accounts vary,--around whose name innumerable legends have gathered.
P'êng Tsu obtained it, and lived from the time of Shun until the time of the Five Princes.
From 2255 to the 7th century B.C. See ch. i.
Fu Yüeh obtained it, and as the Minister of Wu Ting A monarch of the Yin dynasty, B.C. 1324.
got the empire under his control. And now, charioted upon one constellation and drawn by another, he has been enrolled among the stars of heaven.
* * * * * Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei Probably the individual mentioned in chs. ii. and iv.
said to Nü Yü, By one authority said to be a woman.
"You are old, Sir, and yet your countenance is like that of a child.
How is this?"
Nü Yü replied, "I have learnt TAO."
"Could I get TAO by studying it?" asked the other.
"I fear not," said Nü Yü. "You are not the sort of man. There was Pu Liang I. He had all the qualifications of a sage, but not TAO. Now I had Tao, though none of the qualifications. But do you imagine that much as I wished it I was able to teach TAO to him so that he should be a perfect sage? Had it been so, then to teach TAO to one who has the qualifications of a sage would be an easy matter. No, Sir. I imparted as though withholding; and in three days, for him, this sublunary state had ceased to exist.
With all its paltry distinctions of sovereign and subject, high and low, good and bad, etc.
When he had attained to this, I withheld again; and in seven days more, for him, the external world had ceased to be. And so again for another nine days, when he became unconscious of his own existence. He became first etherealised, next possessed of perfect wisdom, then without past or present, and finally able to enter there where life and death are no more,--where killing does not take away life, nor does prolongation of life add to the duration of existence.
In TAO life and death are ONE.
In that state, he is ever in accord with the exigencies of his environment; Literally, there is no sense in which he is not accompanying or meeting, destroying or constructing. That is, in spite of his spiritual condition as above described, he can still adapt himself naturally to life among his fellow-men. The retirement of a hermit is by no means necessary to the perfection of the pure man.
and this is to be _Battered but not Bruised_. And he who can be thus battered but not bruised is on the way to perfection."
"And how did you manage to get hold of all this?" asked Nan Po Tzŭ K'uei.
"I got it from books," replied Nü Yü; "and the books got it from learning, and learning from investigation, and investigation from cö-ordination, Of eye and mind.
and cö-ordination from application, and application from desire to know, and desire to know from the unknown, and the unknown from the great void, and the great void from infinity!"
* * * * * Four men were conversing together, when the following resolution was suggested:--"Whosoever can make Inaction the head, Life the backbone, and Death the tail, of his existence,--that man shall be admitted to friendship with us." The four looked at each other and smiled; and tacitly accepting the conditions, became friends forthwith.
By-and-by, one of them, named Tzŭ Yü, fell ill, and another, Tzŭ Ssŭ, went to see him. "Verily God is great!" said the sick man. "See how he has doubled me up. My back is so hunched that my viscera are at the top of my body. My cheeks are level with my navel. My shoulders are higher than my neck. My hair grows up towards the sky. The whole economy of my organism is deranged. Nevertheless, my mental equilibrium is not disturbed." So saying, he dragged himself painfully to a well, where he could see himself, and continued, "Alas, that God should have doubled me up like this!"
"Are you afraid?" asked Tzŭ Ssŭ.
"I am not," replied Tzŭ Yü. "What have I to fear? Ere long I shall be decomposed. My left shoulder will become a cock, and I shall herald the approach of morn. My right shoulder will become a cross-bow, and I shall be able to get broiled duck. My buttocks will become wheels; and with my soul for a horse, I shall be able to ride in my own chariot.
I obtained life because it was my time: I am now parting with it in accordance with the same law. Content with the natural sequence of these states, joy and sorrow touch me not. I am simply, as the ancients expressed it, hanging in the air, unable to cut myself down, bound with the trammels of material existence. But man has ever given way before God: why, then, should I be afraid?"
"What comes from God to us, returns from us to God."--_Plato._ By-and-by, another of the four, named Tzŭ Lai, fell ill, and lay gasping for breath, while his family stood weeping around. The fourth friend, Tzŭ Li, went to see him. "Chut!" cried he to the wife and children; "begone! you balk his decomposition." Then, leaning against the door, he said, "Verily, God is great! I wonder what he will make of you now. I wonder whither you will be sent. Do you think he will make you into a rat's liver The Chinese believe that a rat has no liver.
or into the shoulders of a snake?"
"A son," answered Tzŭ Lai, "must go whithersoever his parents bid him.
Nature is no other than a man's parents.
The term "Nature" stands here as a rendering of _Yin_ and _Yang_, the Positive and Negative Principles of Chinese cosmogony, from whose interaction the visible universe results.
If she bid me die quickly, and I demur, then I am an unfilial son. She can do me no wrong. TAO gives me this form, this toil in manhood, this repose in old age, this rest in death. And surely that which is such a kind arbiter of my life is the best arbiter of my death.
"Suppose that the boiling metal in a smelting-pot were to bubble up and say, 'Make of me an Excalibur;' I think the caster would reject that metal as uncanny. And if a sinner like myself were to say to God, 'Make of me a man, make of me a man;' I think he too would reject me as uncanny. The universe is the smelting-pot, and God is the caster. I shall go whithersoever I am sent, to wake unconscious of the past, as a man wakes from a dreamless sleep."
Tzŭ Sang Hu, Mêng Tzŭ Fan, and Tzŭ Ch'in Chang, were conversing together, when it was asked, "Who can be, and yet not be?
Implying the absence of all consciousness.
Who can do, and yet not do?
By virtue of inaction.
Who can mount to heaven, and roaming through the clouds, pass beyond the limits of space, oblivious of existence, for ever and ever without end?"
The three looked at each other and smiled; and as neither had any misgivings, they became friends accordingly.
Shortly afterwards Tzŭ Sang Hu died; whereupon Confucius sent Tzŭ Kung One of his chief disciples.
to take part in the mourning. But Tzŭ Kung found that one had composed a song which the other was accompanying on the lute, Strictly speaking, a kind of zitha, played with two hammers.
as follows:-- Ah! Wilt thou come back to us, Sang Hu?
Ah! Wilt thou come back to us, Sang Hu?
Thou hast already returned to thy God, While we still remain here as men,--alas!
Tzŭ Kung hurried in and said, "How can you sing alongside of a corpse?
Is this decorum?"
The two men looked at each other and laughed, saying, "What should this man know of decorum indeed?"
Not the outward decorum of the body, but the inward decorum of the heart.
Tzŭ Kung went back and told Confucius, asking him, "What manner of men are these? Their object is nothingness and a separation from their corporeal frames.
Various commentators give various renderings of this sentence,--mostly forced.
They can sit near a corpse and yet sing, unmoved. There is no class for such. What are they?"
"These men," replied Confucius, "travel beyond the rule of life. I travel within it. Consequently, our paths do not meet; and I was wrong in sending you to mourn. They consider themselves as one with God, recognising no distinctions between human and divine. They look on life as a huge tumour from which death sets them free. All the same they know not where they were before birth, nor where they will be after death. Though admitting different elements, they take their stand upon the unity of all things. They ignore their passions. They take no count of their ears and eyes. Backwards and forwards through all eternity, they do not admit a beginning or end. They stroll beyond the dust and dirt of mortality, to wander in the realms of inaction. How should such men trouble themselves with the conventionalities of this world, or care what people may think of them?"
"But if such is the case," said Tzŭ Kung, "why should we stick to the rule?"
"Heaven has condemned me to this," replied Confucius. "Nevertheless, you and I may perhaps escape from it."
"By what method?" asked Tzŭ Kung.
"Fishes," replied Confucius, "are born in water. Man is born in TAO. If fishes get ponds to live in, they thrive. If man gets TAO to live in, he may live his life in peace.
Without reference to the outward ceremonial of this world.
Hence the saying, 'All that a fish wants is water; all that a man wants is TAO.'"
It is of course by a literary _coup de main_ that Confucius is here and elsewhere made to stand sponsor to the TAO of the rival school.
"May I ask," said Tzŭ Kung, "about divine men?"
"Divine men," replied Confucius, "are divine to man, but ordinary to God. Hence the saying that the meanest being in heaven would be the best on earth; and the best on earth, the meanest in heaven."
"Man is a kind of very minute heaven. God is the grand Yen Hui said to Confucius, "When Mêng Sun Ts'ai's mother died, he wept, but without snivelling; Which the Chinese regard as the test of real sorrow.
he grieved but his grief was not heartfelt; he wore mourning but without howling. Yet although wanting in these three points, he is considered the best mourner in the State of Lu. Surely this is the name and not the reality. I am astonished at it."
"Mêng Sun," said Confucius, "did all that was required. He has made an advance towards wisdom.
Towards TAO, wherein there is no weeping nor gnashing of teeth.
He could not do less; Than mourn outwardly, for fear of committing a breach of social etiquette, in harmony if not in accordance with which the true Sage passes his life.
while all the time actually doing less.
As seen from the absence of those signs which prove inward grief.
"Mêng Sun knows not whence we come nor whither we go. He knows not whether the end will come early or late. Passing into life as a man, he quietly awaits his passage into the unknown. What should the dead know of the living, or the living know of the dead? Even you and I may be in a dream from which we have not yet awaked.
"Then again, he adapts himself physically, To the ceremonial of the body.
while avoiding injury to his higher self.
Keeping his soul free from the disturbance of passion.
He regards a dying man simply as one who is going home. He sees others weep, and he naturally weeps too.
"Besides, a man's personality is something of which he is subjectively conscious. It is impossible for him to say if he is really that which he is conscious of being. You dream you are a bird, and soar to heaven.
You dream you are a fish, and dive into the ocean's depths. And you cannot tell whether the man now speaking is awake or in a dream.
"A pleasurable sensation precedes the smile it evokes. The smile itself is not dependent upon a reminding nudge.
And just so was Mêng Sun's outward expression of grief,--spontaneous, as being in harmony with his surroundings.
Resign yourself, To your mortal environment.
unconscious of all changes, Of life into death, etc.
and you shall enter into the pure, the divine, the ONE."
* * * * * I Erh Tzŭ went to see Hsü Yu. The latter asked him, saying, "How has Yao benefited you?"
"He bade me," replied the former, "practise charity and do my duty, and distinguish clearly between right and wrong."
"Then what do you want here?" said Hsü Yu. "If Yao has already branded you with charity and duty, and cut off your nose with right and wrong, what do you do in this free-and-easy, care-for-nobody, topsy-turvy neighbourhood?"
Of TAO.
"Nevertheless," replied I Erh Tzŭ, "I should like to be on its confines."
"If a man has lost his eyes," retorted Hsü Yu, "it is impossible for him to join in the appreciation of beauty. A man with a film over his eyes cannot tell a blue sacrificial robe from a yellow one."
"Wu Chuang's disregard of her beauty," answered I Erh Tzŭ, "Chü Liang's disregard of his strength, the Yellow Emperor's abandonment of wisdom,--all these were brought about by a process of filing and hammering. And how do you know but that God would rid me of my brands, and give me a new nose, and make me fit to become a disciple of yourself?"
"Ah!" replied Hsü Yu, "that cannot be known. But I will just give you an outline. The Master I serve succours all things, and does not account it _duty_. He continues his blessings through countless generations, and does not account it _charity_. Dating back to the remotest antiquity, he does not account himself old. Covering heaven, supporting earth, and fashioning the various forms of things, he does not account himself skilled. He it is whom you should seek."
And he is TAO.
"I am getting on," observed Yen Hui to Confucius.
The most famous of all the disciples of Confucius, admitted by the latter to have been as near perfection as possible.
"How so?" asked the latter.
"I have got rid of charity and duty," replied the former.
"Very good," replied Confucius, "but not perfect."
Another day Yen Hui met Confucius and said, "I am getting on."
"How so?" asked Confucius.
"I have got rid of ceremonial and music," answered Yen Hui.
"Very good," said Confucius, "but not perfect."
On a third occasion Yen Hui met Confucius and said, "I am getting on."
"How so?" asked the Sage.
"I have got rid of everything," replied Yen Hui.
"Got rid of everything!" said Confucius eagerly. "What do you mean by that?"
"I have freed myself from my body," answered Yen Hui. "I have discarded my reasoning powers. And by thus getting rid of body and mind, I have become ONE with the Infinite. This is what I mean by getting rid of everything."
"If you have become ONE," cried Confucius, "there can be no room for bias. If you have passed into space, you are indeed without beginning or end. And if you have really attained to this, I trust to be allowed to follow in your steps."
* * * * * Tzŭ Yü and Tzŭ Sang were friends. Once when it had rained for ten days, Tzŭ Yü said, "Tzŭ Sang is dangerously ill." So he packed up some food and went to see him.
In accordance with the exigencies of mortality. How Tzŭ Yü knew that his friend was ill is not clear. An attempt has been made by one commentator on the basis of animal magnetism, in which the Chinese have believed for centuries.
Arriving at the door, he heard something between singing and lamentation, accompanied with the sound of music, as follows:-- "O father! O mother! O Heaven! O Man!"
These words seemed to be uttered with a great effort; whereupon Tzŭ Yü went in and asked what it all meant.
"I was trying to think who could have brought me to this extreme," replied Tzŭ Sang, "but I could not guess. My father and mother would hardly wish me to be poor. Heaven covers all equally. Earth supports all equally. How can they make me in particular poor? I was seeking to know who it was, but without success. Surely then I am brought to this extreme by _Destiny_."
"The word Fate, or Destiny, expresses the sense of mankind in all ages--that the laws of the world do not always befriend, but often hurt and crush us."--_Emerson._ CHAPTER VII.
HOW TO GOVERN.
_Argument_:--Princes should reign, not rule--Rulers find their standards of right in themselves--They thus coerce their people into obeying artificial laws, instead of leaving them to obey natural laws--By action they accomplish nothing--By inaction there is nothing which they would not accomplish--Individuals think they know what the empire wants--In reality it is the empire itself which know Yeh Ch'üeh asked Wang I See ch. ii.
four questions, none of which he could answer. Thereat the former was greatly delighted, For now he discovered that ignorance is true knowledge:--an explanation which I adopt only for want of a better.
and went off and told P'u I Tzŭ.
Of whom nothing definite is known.
"Have you only just found that out?" said P'u I Tzŭ. "The Emperor Shun was not equal to T'ai Huang.
A legendary ruler. For Shun, see ch. i.
Shun was all for charity in his zeal for mankind; but although he succeeded in government, he himself never rose above the level of artificiality. Now T'ai Huang was peaceful when asleep and inactive when awake. At one time he would think himself a horse; at another, an ox.
So effectually had he closed all channels leading to consciousness of self.
His wisdom was substantial and above suspicion. His virtue was genuine indeed. And yet he never sank to the level of artificiality."
He was a monarch after the pattern of TAO.
* * * * * Chien Wu meeting the eccentric Chieh Yü, the latter enquired, saying, "What did Jih Chung Shih teach you?"
Of the last nothing is known. The first two have been already mentioned in chs. i. and vi.
"He taught me," replied Chien Wu, "about the laws and regulations which princes evolve, and which he said none would venture not to hear and obey."
"That is a false teaching indeed," replied Chieh Yü. "To attempt to govern mankind thus,--as well try to wade through the sea, to hew a passage through a river, or make a mosquito fly away with a mountain!
"The government of the truly wise man has no concern with externals.
He first perfects himself, and then by virtue thereof he is enabled to accomplish what he wants.
Passively, without effort of any kind.
"The bird flies high to avoid snare and dart. The mouse burrows down below the hill to avoid being smoked or cut out of its nest. Is your wit below that of these two creatures?"
That you should be unable to devise means of avoiding the artificial restraints of princes. Better than coercing into goodness is letting men be good of their own accord.
T'ien Kên Of whom nothing is known.
was travelling on the south of the Yin mountain. He had reached the river Liao when he met a certain Sage to whom he said, "I beg to ask about the government of the empire."
"Begone!" cried the Sage. "You are a low fellow, and your question is ill timed. God has just turned me out a man. That is enough for me.
Borne on light pinions I can soar beyond the cardinal points, to the land of nowhere, in the domain of nothingness. And you come to worry me with government of the empire!"
But T'ien Kên enquired a second time, and the Sage replied, "Resolve your mental energy into abstraction, your physical energy into inaction. Allow yourself to fall in with the natural order of phenomena, without admitting the element of self,--and the empire will be governed."
By virtue of natural laws which lead, without man's interference, to the end desired.
Yang Tzŭ Chü went to see Lao Tzŭ, and said, "Suppose a man were ardent and courageous, acquainted with the order and principles of things, and untiring in the pursuit of TAO--would he be accounted a wise ruler?"
"From the point of view of a truly wise man," replied Lao Tzŭ, "such a one would be a mere handicraftsman, wearing out body and mind alike.
The tiger and the pard suffer from the beauty of their skins. The cleverness of the monkey, the tractability of the ox, bring them both to the tether. It is not on such grounds that a ruler may be accounted wise."
"But in what, then," cried Yang Tzŭ Chü, "does the government of a wise man consist?"
"The goodness of a wise ruler," answered Lao Tzŭ, "covers the whole empire, yet he himself seems to know it not. It influences all creation, yet none is conscious thereof. It appears under countless forms, bringing joy to all things. It is based upon the baseless, and travels through the realms of Nowhere."
The operation of true government is invisible to the eye of man.
* * * * * In the State of Chêng there was a wonderful magician, named Chi Han.
He knew all about birth and death, gain and loss, misfortune and happiness, long life and short life,--predicting events to a day with supernatural accuracy. The people of Chêng used to flee at his approach; but Lieh Tzŭ See ch. i.
went to see him, and became so infatuated that on his return he said to Hu Tzŭ, Who appears to have been his tutor.
"I used to look upon your TAO as perfect. Now I know something more perfect still."
"So far," replied Hu Tzŭ, "I have only taught you the ornamentals, not the essentials, of TAO; and yet you think you know all about it.
Without cocks in your poultry-yard, what sort of eggs do the hens lay?
If you go about trying to force TAO down people's throats, you will be simply exposing yourself. Bring your friend with you, and let me show myself to him."
So next day Lieh Tzŭ went with Chi Han to see Hu Tzŭ, and when they came out Chi Han said, "Alas! your teacher is doomed. He cannot live. I hardly give him ten days. I am astonished at him. He is but wet ashes."
And cannot burn much longer.
Lieh Tzŭ went in and wept bitterly, and told Hu Tzŭ; but the latter said, "I showed myself to him just now as the earth shows us its outward form, motionless and still, while production is all the time going on. I merely prevented him from seeing my pent-up energy Of TAO.
within. Bring him again."
Next day the interview took place as before; but as they were leaving Chi Han said to Lieh Tzŭ, "It is lucky for your teacher that he met me.
He is better. He will recover. I saw he had recuperative power."
Lieh Tzŭ went in and told Hu Tzŭ; whereupon the latter replied, "I showed myself to him just now as heaven shows itself in all its dispassionate grandeur, letting a little energy run out of my heels. He was thus able to detect that I had some. Bring him here again."
Next day a third interview took place, and as they were leaving, Chi Han said to Lieh Tzŭ, "Your teacher is never one day like another. I can tell nothing from his physiognomy. Get him to be regular, and I will then examine him again."
This being repeated to Hu Tzŭ as before, the latter said, "I showed myself to him just now in a state of harmonious equilibrium. Where the whale disports itself,--is the abyss. Where water is at rest,--is the abyss. Where water is in motion,--is the abyss. The abyss has nine names. These are three of them."
Alluding to three phases of TAO as manifested at the three interviews above described, TAO being the abyss.
Next day the two went once more to see Hu Tzŭ; but Chi Han was unable to stand still, and in his confusion turned and fled.
"Pursue him!" cried Hu Tzŭ; whereupon Lieh Tzŭ ran after him, but could not overtake him, so he returned and told Hu Tzŭ that the fugitive had disappeared.
"I showed myself to him just now," said Hu Tzŭ, "as TAO appeared before time was. I was to him as a great blank, existing of itself. He knew not who I was. His face fell. He became confused. And so he fled."
Upon this Lieh Tzŭ stood convinced that he had not yet acquired any real knowledge, and at once set to work in earnest, passing three years without leaving the house. He helped his wife to cook the family dinner, and fed his pigs just like human beings. He discarded the artificial and reverted to the natural. He became merely a shape.
Amidst confusion, Of this material world.
he was unconfounded. And so he continued to the end.
By Inaction, fame comes as the spirits of the dead come to the boy who impersonates the corpse.
See ch. i. In the old funeral rites of China, a boy was made to sit speechless and motionless as a corpse, for the reason assigned in the text.
By Inaction, one can become the centre of thought, the focus of responsibility, the arbiter of wisdom. Full allowance must be made for others, while remaining unmoved oneself. There must be a thorough compliance with divine principles, without any manifestation thereof.
Non mihi res, sed me rebus, subjungere conar.
All of which may be summed up in the one word _passivity_. For the perfect man employs his mind as a mirror. It grasps nothing: it refuses nothing. It receives, but does not keep. And thus he can triumph over matter, without injury to himself.
Without the wear and tear suffered by those who allow their activities free play.
* * * * * The ruler of the southern sea was called Shu. The ruler of the northern sea was called Hu. The ruler of the central zone was called Hun Tun.
This term is generally used to denote the condition of matter before separation and subdivision into the phenomena of the visible universe.
Shu and Hu often met on Hun Tun's territory, and being always well treated by him, determined to repay his kindness.
They said, "All men have seven holes,--for seeing, hearing, eating, and breathing. Hun Tun alone has none. We will bore some for him."
So every day they bored one hole; but on the seventh day Hun Tun died.
Illustrating the perils of action. "The empire," says Lao Tzŭ, "is a divine trust, and may not be ruled. He who rules, ruins. He who holds by force, loses."
"Men's actions," says Emerson, "are too strong for them."
With this chapter Chuang Tzŭ completes the outline of his system. The remaining chapters are either supplementary to the preceding seven, or independent essays upon cognate subjects.
CHAPTER VIII.
JOINED TOES.
_Argument_:--Virtues should be natural, not artificial; passive not active. [Chs. viii to xiii inclusive are illustrative of, or supplementary to, ch. vii.]
Joined toes and extra fingers are an addition to nature, though, functionally speaking, superfluous. Wens and tumours are an addition to the bodily form, though, as far as nature is concerned, superfluous.
And similarly, to include charity and duty to one's neighbour among the functions of man's organism, is not true TAO.
The whole of this chapter is a violent tirade against the leading doctrines of Confucianism.
For just as joined toes are but useless lumps of flesh, and extra fingers but useless excrescences, so are any artificial additions to our internal economy but harmful adjuncts to real charity and duty to one's neighbour, Which are the outcome of TAO.
and are moreover prejudicial to the right use of intelligence.
People with extra keenness of vision muddle themselves over the five colours, exaggerate the value of shades, and of distinctions of greens and yellows for sacrificial robes. Of such was Li Chu.
Who could see a pin's point at a distance of 1,000 _li_. He is mentioned by Mencius.
People with extra keenness of hearing muddle themselves over the five notes, exaggerate the tonic differences of the six pitch-pipes, and the various _timbres_ of metal, stone, silk, and bamboo, of the _Huang-chung_, and of the _Ta-lü_. Of such was Shih K'uang.
The blind musician mentioned in ch. ii. The _Huang-chung_ and the _Ta-lü_ were two of the twelve bamboo tubes, or pitch-pipes, on which ancient Chinese music was based. Six were _male_ or positive, and six _female_ or negative. Hence they are spoken of collectively as six.
People who graft on charity, force themselves to display this virtue in order to gain reputation and to enjoy the applause of the world for that which is of no account. Of such were Tsêng and Shih.
Tsêng Shên, a famous disciple of Confucius, and Shih Yu, both noted for their high moral characters.
People who refine in argument do but pile up tiles or knot ropes in their maunderings over the hard and white, the like and the unlike, wearing themselves out over mere useless terms. Of such were Yang and Mih.
Yang Chu, a philosopher of the fourth century B.C., whose "selfish" system was condemned by Mencius; and Mih Tzŭ, already mentioned in ch.
ii.
Therefore every addition to or deviation from nature belongs not to the ultimate perfection of all.
Which is in TAO.
He who would attain to such perfection never loses sight of the natural conditions of his existence. With him the joined is not united, nor the separated apart, nor the long in excess, nor the short wanting.
For just as a duck's legs, though short, cannot be lengthened without pain to the duck, and a crane's legs, though long, cannot be shortened without misery to the crane, so that which is long in man's moral nature cannot be cut off, nor that which is short be lengthened. All sorrow is thus avoided.
Intentional charity and intentional duty to one's neighbour are surely not included in our moral nature. Yet what sorrow these have involved.
Divide your joined toes and you will howl: bite off your extra finger and you will scream. In one case there is too much, in the other too little; but the sorrow is the same. And the charitable of the age go about sorrowing over the ills of the age, while the non-charitable cut through the natural conditions of things in their greed after place and wealth. Surely then intentional charity and duty to one's neighbour are not included in our moral nature. Yet from the time of the Three Dynasties downwards what a fuss has been made about them!
Those who cannot make perfect without arc, line, compasses, and square, injure the natural constitution of things. Those who require cords to bind and glue to stick, interfere with the natural functions of things. And those who seek to satisfy the mind of man by hampering with ceremonies and music and preaching charity and duty to one's neighbour, thereby destroy the intrinsicality of things.
For such intrinsicality does exist, in this sense:--Things which are curved require no arcs; things which are straight require no lines; things which are round require no compasses; things which are rectangular require no squares; things which stick require no glue; things which hold together require no cords. And just as all things are produced, and none can tell how they are produced, so do all things possess their own intrinsic qualities and none can tell how they possess them. From time immemorial this has always been so, without variation. Why then should charity and duty to one's neighbour be as it were glued or corded on, and introduced into the domain of TAO, to give rise to doubt among mankind?
Lesser doubts change the rule of life; greater doubts change man's nature.
How do we know this? By the fact that ever since the time when Shun bid