MAN AMONG MEN.
_Argument_:--Man must fall in with his mortal environment--His virtue
should be passive, not active--He should be rather than do--Talents a
hindrance--But of petty uselessness great usefulness is achieved.
Yen Hui went to take leave of Confucius.
A disciple of the Sage. Also known as Tzŭ Yüan.
"Whither are you bound?" asked the Master.
"I am going to the State of Wei," was the reply.
"And what do you propose to do there?" continued Confucius.
"I hear," answered Yen Hui, "that the Prince of Wei is of mature age,
but of an unmanageable disposition. He behaves as if the State were of
no account, and will not see his own faults. Consequently, the people
perish; and their corpses lie about like so much undergrowth in a
marsh. They are at extremities. And I have heard you, Sir, say that if
a State is well governed it may be neglected; but that if it is badly
governed, then we should visit it.
In the _Lun Yü_, Confucius says exactly the opposite of this.
The science of medicine embraces many various diseases. I would test
my knowledge in this sense, that perchance I may do some good to that
State."
"Alas!" cried Confucius, "you will only succeed in bringing evil upon
yourself. For TAO must not be distributed. If it is, it will lose its
unity. If it loses its unity, it will be uncertain; and so cause mental
disturbance,--from which there is no escape.
"The sages of old first got TAO for themselves, and then got it for
others. Before you possess this yourself, what leisure have you to
attend to the doings of wicked men? Besides, do you know what Virtue
results in and where Wisdom ends? Virtue results in a desire for
fame; Wisdom ends in contentions. In the struggle for fame men crush
each other, while their wisdom but provokes rivalry. Both are baleful
instruments, and may not be incautiously used.
"Besides, those who, before influencing by their own solid virtue and
unimpeachable sincerity, and before reaching the heart by the example
of their own disregard for name and fame, go and preach charity and
duty to one's neighbour to wicked men,--only make these men hate them
for their very goodness' sake. Such persons are called _evil speakers_.
And those who speak evil of others are apt to be evil spoken of
themselves. That, alas! will be your end.
"On the other hand, if the Prince loves the good and hates the bad,
what object will you have in inviting him to change his ways? Before
you have opened your mouth to preach, the Prince himself will have
seized the opportunity to wrest the victory from you. Your eye will
fall, your expression fade, your words will stick, your face will
change, and your heart will die within you. It will be as though you
took fire to quell fire, water to quell water, which is popularly known
as 'pouring oil on the flames.' And if you begin with concessions,
there will be no end to them. Neglect this sound advice, and you will
be the victim of that violent man.
"Of old, Chieh murdered Kuan Lung Fêng, and Chou slew Prince Pi Kan.
Their victims were both men who cultivated virtue themselves in
order to secure the welfare of the people. But in doing this they
offended their superiors; and therefore, because of that very moral
culture, their superiors got rid of them, in order to guard their own
reputations.
Chieh and Chou are the two typical tyrants of Chinese history.
"Of old, Yao attacked the Ts'ung-chih and Hsü-ao countries, and Yü
attacked the Yu-hu country. Homes were desolated and families destroyed
by the slaughter of the inhabitants. Yet they fought without ceasing,
and strove for victory to the last. These are instances known to all.
Now if the Sages of old failed in their efforts against this love of
fame, this desire for victory,--are you likely to succeed? But of
course you have a scheme. Tell it to me."
"Gravity of demeanour," replied Yen Hui, "and dispassionateness; energy
and singleness of purpose,--will this do?"
"Alas!" said Confucius, "that will not do. If you make a show of being
perfect and obtrude yourself, the Prince's mood will be doubtful.
Ordinarily, he is not opposed, and so he has come to take actual
pleasure in trampling upon the feelings of others. And if he has thus
failed in the practice of routine virtues, do you expect that he will
take readily to higher ones? You may insist, but without result.
Outwardly you will be right, but inwardly wrong. How then will you make
him mend his ways?"
"Just so," replied Yen Hui. "I am inwardly straight, and outwardly
crooked, completed after the models of antiquity.
"He who is inwardly straight is a servant of God. And he who is a
servant of God knows that the Son of Heaven
The Emperor.
and himself are equally the children of God. Shall then such a one
trouble whether man visits him with evil or with good? Man indeed
regards him as a child; and this is to be a servant of God.
(1) Children are everywhere exempt.--This is the first limb of a
threefold argument.
"He who is outwardly crooked is a servant of man. He bows, he kneels,
he folds his hands;--such is the ceremonial of a minister. What all men
do, shall I dare not to do? What all men do, none will blame me for
doing. This is to be a servant of man.
(2) The individual is not punished for the faults of the community.
"He who is completed after the models of antiquity is a servant of the
Sages of old. Although I utter the words of warning and take him to
task, it is the Sages of old who speak, and not I. Thus my uprightness
will not bring me into trouble, the servant of the Sages of old.--Will
this do?"
(3) The responsibility rests, not with the mouthpiece, but with the
authors of the doctrines enunciated.
"Alas!" replied Confucius, "No. Your plans are too many, and are
lacking in prudence. However, your firmness will secure you from harm;
but that is all. You will not influence him to such an extent that he
shall seem to follow the dictates of his own heart."
"Then," said Yen Hui, "I am without resource, and venture to ask for a
method."
Confucius said, "_FAST_.... Let me explain. You have a method, but it
is difficult to practise. Those which are easy are not from God."
"Well," replied Yen Hui, "my family is poor, and for many months we
have tasted neither wine nor flesh. Is not that fasting?"
"The fasting of religious observance it is," answered Confucius, "but
not the fasting of the heart."
"And may I ask," said Yen Hui, "in what consists the fasting of the
heart?"
"Cultivate unity," replied Confucius.
Make of the mind as it were an undivided indivisible ONE.
"You hear not with the ears, but with the mind; not with the mind, but
with your soul.
The vital fluid which informs your whole being; in fact, "with your
whole self."
But let hearing stop with the ears. Let the working of the mind stop
with itself. Then the soul will be a negative existence, passively
responsive to externals. In such a negative existence, only TAO can
abide. And that negative state is the fasting of the heart."
"Then," said Yen Hui, "the reason I could not get the use of this
method is my own individuality. If I could get the use of it, my
individuality would have gone. Is this what you mean by the negative
state?"
"Exactly so," replied the Master. "Let me tell you. If you can enter
this man's domain without offending his _amour propre_, cheerful if he
hears you, passive if he does not; without science, without drugs,
simply living there in a state of complete indifference,--you will
be near success. It is easy to stop walking: the trouble is to walk
without touching the ground. As an agent of man, it is easy to deceive;
but not as an agent of God. You have heard of winged creatures flying.
You have never heard of flying without wings. You have heard of men
being wise with wisdom. You have never heard of men wise without wisdom.
Wise of God, without the wisdom of man.
"Look at that window. Through it an empty room becomes bright with
scenery; but the landscape stops outside. Were this not so, we should
have an exemplification of sitting still and running away at one and
the same time.
An empty room would contain something,--a paradox like that in the
text.
"In this sense, you may use your ears and eyes to communicate within,
but shut out all wisdom from the mind.
Let the channels of your senses be to your mind what a window is to an
empty room.
And there where the supernatural
Something which is and yet is not, like the landscape seen in, and yet
not in, a room.
can find shelter, shall not man find shelter too? This is the method
for regenerating all creation.
By passive, not by active, virtue.
It was the instrument which Yü and Shun employed. It was the secret
of the success of Fu Hsi and Chi Chü. Shall it not then be adopted by
mankind in general?"
Who stand much more in need of regeneration than such worthies as were
these ancient Emperors.
Tzŭ Kao, Duke of Shê,
A district of the Ch'u State.
being about to go on a mission to the Ch'i State, asked Confucius,
saying, "The mission my sovereign is sending me on is a most important
one. Of course, I shall be received with all due respect, but they
will not take the same interest in the matter that I shall. And as an
ordinary person cannot be pushed, still less a Prince, I am in a state
of great alarm.
"Now you, Sir, have told me that in all undertakings great and small,
TAO alone leads to a happy issue. Otherwise that, failing success,
there is to be feared punishment from without, and with success,
punishment from within; while exemption in case either of success or
non-success falls only to the share of those who possess the virtue
required.
_I.e._ those to whom the issue, as regards their own reward or
punishment, is a matter of the completest indifference.
The term _virtue_, here as elsewhere unless specially notified, should
be understood in the sense of exemplification of TAO.
"Well, I am not dainty with my food; neither am I always wanting to
cool myself when hot. However, this morning I received my orders, and
this evening I have been drinking iced water. I am so hot inside.
Before I have put my hand to the business I am suffering punishment
from within; and if I do not succeed I am sure to suffer punishment
from without. Thus I get both punishments, which is really more than I
can bear. Kindly tell me what there is to be done."
"There exist two sources of safety," Confucius replied. "One is
_Destiny_: the other is _Duty_. A child's love for its parents
is destiny. It is inseparable from the child's life. A subject's
allegiance to his sovereign is duty. Beneath the canopy of heaven there
is no place to which he can escape from it. These two sources of safety
may be explained as follows. To serve one's parents without reference
to _place_ but only to the service, is the acme of filial piety. To
serve one's prince without reference to the _act_ but only to the
service, is the perfection of a subject's loyalty. To serve one's own
heart so as to permit neither joy nor sorrow within, but to cultivate
resignation to the inevitable,--this is the climax of Virtue.
"Now a minister often finds himself in circumstances over which he
has no control. But if he simply confines himself to his work, and
is utterly oblivious of self, what leisure has he for loving life or
hating death? And so you may safely go.
"But I have yet more to tell you. All intercourse, if personal, should
be characterised by sincerity. If from a distance, it should be carried
on in loyal terms. These terms will have to be transmitted by some one.
Now the transmission of messages of good- or ill-will is the hardest
thing possible. Messages of good-will are sure to be overdone with fine
phrases; messages of ill-will with harsh ones. In each case the result
is exaggeration, and a consequent failure to carry conviction, for
which the envoy suffers. Therefore it was said in the _Fa-yen_,
Name of an ancient book.
'Confine yourself to simple statements of fact, shorn of all
superfluous expression of feeling, and your risk will be small.'
"In trials of skill, at first all is friendliness; but at last it is
all antagonism. Skill is pushed too far. So on festive occasions, the
drinking which is in the beginning orderly enough, degenerates into
riot and disorder. Festivity is pushed too far. It is in fact the same
with all things: they begin with good faith and end with contempt. From
small beginnings come great endings.
"Speech is like wind to wave. Action is liable to divergence from its
true goal. By wind, waves are easily excited. Divergence from the
true goal is fraught with danger. Thus angry feelings rise up without
a cause. Specious words and dishonest arguments follow, as the wild
random cries of an animal at the point of death. Both sides give
way to passion. For where one party drives the other too much into a
corner, resistance will always be provoked without apparent cause. And
if the cause is not apparent, how much less will the ultimate effect be
so?
"Therefore it is said in the _Fa-yen_, 'Neither deviate from nor travel
beyond your instructions.
"Travel beyond your instructions," is literally, "urge a settlement."
To pass the limit is to go to excess.'
"To deviate from, or to travel beyond instructions, may imperil the
negotiation. A settlement to be successful must be lasting. It is too
late to change an evil settlement once made.
"Therefore let yourself be carried along without fear, taking refuge in
_no alternative_ to preserve you from harm on either side. This is the
utmost you can do. What need for considering your obligations? Better
leave all to Destiny, difficult as this may be."
It is passing strange that this exposition of the _laissez-aller_
inaction doctrine of TAO should be placed in the mouth of Confucius,
who is thus made in some measure to discredit his own teachings. The
commentators, however, see nothing anomalous in the position here
assigned to the Sage.
Yen Ho
A philosopher from the Lu State.
was about to become tutor to the eldest son of Prince Ling of the Wei
State. Accordingly he observed to Chü Poh Yü,
Prime Minister of the Wei State.
"Here is a man whose disposition is naturally of a low order. To let
him take his own unprincipled way is to endanger the State. To try
to restrain him is to endanger one's personal safety. He has just
wit enough to see faults in others, but not to see his own. I am
consequently at a loss what to do."
"A good question indeed," replied Chü Poh Yü, "You must be careful,
and begin by self-reformation. Outwardly you may adapt yourself, but
inwardly you must keep up to your own standard. In this there are two
points to be guarded against. You must not let the outward adaptation
penetrate within, nor the inward standard manifest itself without.
In the former case, you will fall, you will be obliterated, you will
collapse, you will lie prostrate. In the latter case, you will be a
sound, a name, a bogie, an uncanny thing. If he would play the child,
do you play the child too. If he cast aside all sense of decorum, do
you do so too. As far as he goes, do you go also. Thus you will reach
him without offending him.
"Don't you know the story of the praying mantis? In its rage it
stretched out its arms to prevent a chariot from passing, unaware
that this was beyond its strength, so admirable was its energy! Be
cautious. If you are always offending others by your superiority, you
will probably come to grief.
"Do you not know that those who keep tigers do not venture to give them
live animals as food, for fear of exciting their fury when killing the
prey? Also, that whole animals are not given, for fear of exciting the
tigers' fury when rending them? The periods of hunger and repletion are
carefully watched in order to prevent such outbursts. The tiger is
of a different species from man; but the latter too is manageable if
properly managed, unmanageable if excited to fury.
"Those who are fond of horses surround them with various conveniences.
Sometimes mosquitoes or flies trouble them; and then, unexpectedly to
the animal, a groom will brush them off, the result being that the
horse breaks his bridle, and hurts his head and chest. The intention is
good, but there is a want of real care for the horse. Against this you
must be on your guard."
* * * * *
A certain artisan was travelling to the Ch'i State. On reaching
Ch'ü-yüan, he saw a sacred _li_ tree,
A worthless species of oak.
large enough to hide an ox behind it, a hundred spans in girth,
towering up ten cubits over the hill top, and carrying behind it
branches, many tens of the smallest of which were of a size for boats.
Crowds stood gazing at it, but our artisan took no notice, and went on
his way without even casting a look behind. His apprentice however
gazed his fill, and when he caught up his master, said, "Ever since I
have handled an adze in your service, I have never seen such a splendid
piece of timber as that. How was it that you, sir, did not care to stop
and look at it?"
"It's not worth talking about," replied his master. "It's good for
nothing. Make a boat of it,--'twould sink. A coffin,--'twould rot.
Furniture,--'twould soon break down. A door,--'twould sweat. A
pillar,--'twould be worm-eaten. It is wood of no quality, and of no
use. That is why it has attained its present age."
When the artisan reached home, he dreamt that the tree appeared to
him in a dream and spoke as follows:--"What is it that you compare me
with? Is it with the more elegant trees?--The cherry-apple, the pear,
the orange, the pumelo, and other fruit-bearers, as soon as their
fruit ripens are stripped and treated with indignity. The great boughs
are snapped off, the small ones scattered abroad. Thus do these trees
by their own value injure their own lives. They cannot fulfil their
allotted span of years, but perish prematurely in mid-career from
their entanglement with the world around them. Thus it is with all
things. For a long period my aim was to be useless. Many times I was in
danger, but at length I succeeded, and so became useful as I am to-day.
But had I then been of use, I should not now be of the great use I
am. Moreover, you and I belong both to the same category of things.
Have done then with this criticism of others. Is a good-for-nothing
fellow whose dangers are not yet passed a fit person to talk of a
good-for-nothing tree?"
When our artisan awaked and told his dream, his apprentice said, "If
the tree aimed at uselessness, how was it that it became a sacred tree?"
Which of course may be said to be of use.
"What you don't understand," replied his master, "don't talk about.
That was merely to escape from the attacks of its enemies. Had it not
become sacred, how many would have wanted to cut it down! The means of
safety adopted were different from ordinary means,
In order to reach the somewhat extraordinary goal of uselessness.
and to test these by ordinary canons leaves one far wide of the mark."
* * * * *
Tzŭ Ch'i of Nan-poh
Said to be identical with the individual mentioned at the beginning of
ch. ii.
was travelling on the Shang mountain when he saw a large tree which
astonished him very much. A thousand chariot teams could have found
shelter under its shade.
"What tree is this?" cried Tzŭ Ch'i. "Surely it must have unusually
fine timber." Then looking up, he saw that its branches were too
crooked for rafters; while as to the trunk he saw that its irregular
grain made it valueless for coffins. He tasted a leaf, but it took the
skin off his lips; and its odour was so strong that it would make a man
as it were drunk for three days together.
"Ah!" said Tzŭ Ch'i. "This tree is good for nothing, and that is how it
has attained this size. A wise man might well follow its example."
And so escape danger from his surroundings.
In the State of Sung there is a place called Ching-shih, where thrive
the beech, the cedar, and the mulberry. Such as are of a one-handed
span or so in girth are cut down for monkey-cages. Those of two or
three two-handed spans are cut down for the beams of fine houses. Those
of seven or eight such spans are cut down for the solid sides of rich
men's coffins.
To this day, the very best kinds of wood are still reserved for the
"planks of old age."
Thus they do not fulfil their allotted span of years, but perish in
mid-career beneath the axe. Such is the misfortune which overtakes
worth.
For the sacrifices to the River God, neither bulls with white cheeks,
nor pigs with large snouts, nor men suffering from piles, were allowed
to be used. This had been revealed to the soothsayers, and these
characteristics were consequently regarded as inauspicious. The wise,
however, would regard them as extremely auspicious.
Readers of _Don Juan_ will recollect how the master's mate had reason
to share his view.
There was a hunchback named Su. His jaws touched his navel. His
shoulders were higher than his head. His hair knot looked up to the
sky. His viscera were upside down. His buttocks were where his ribs
should have been. By tailoring, or washing, he was easily able to earn
his living. By sifting rice he could make enough to support a family of
ten.
In all of which occupations a man would necessarily stoop.
When orders came down for a conscription, the hunchback stood
unconcerned among the crowd. And similarly, in matters of public works,
his deformity shielded him from being employed.
On the other hand, when it came to donations of grain, the hunchback
received as much as three _chung_,
An ancient measure of uncertain capacity.
and of firewood, ten faggots. And if physical deformity was thus enough
to preserve his body until its allotted end, how much more would not
moral and mental deformity avail!
A moral and mental deviation would be still more likely to condemn a
man to that neglect from his fellows which is so conducive to our real
welfare.
When Confucius was in the Ch'u State, the eccentric Chieh Yü passed his
door, saying, "O phœnix, O phœnix, how has thy virtue fallen!--
By thus issuing forth out of due season.
unable to wait for the coming years or to go back into the past.
When you might be, or might have been, of use. The idea conveyed is
that Confucianism was unsuited to its age. See _Lun-yü_, ch. xviii.
If TAO prevails on earth, prophets will fulfil their mission. If TAO
does not prevail, they will but preserve themselves. At the present day
they will but just escape.
"The honours of this world are light as feathers, yet none estimate
them at their true value. The misfortunes of this life are weighty as
the earth itself, yet none can keep out of their reach. No more, no
more, seek to influence by virtue. Beware, beware, move cautiously on!
O ferns, O ferns, wound not my steps! Through my tortuous journey wound
not my feet! Hills suffer from the trees they produce. Fat burns by its
own combustibility. Cinnamon trees furnish food: therefore they are
cut down. The lacquer tree is felled for use. All men know the use of
useful things; but they do not know the use of useless things."