HORSES' HOOFS.
_Argument_:--Superiority of the natural over the
artificial--Application of this principle to government.
Horses have hoofs to carry them over frost and snow; hair, to protect
them from wind and cold. They eat grass and drink water, and fling up
their heels over the champaign. Such is the real nature of horses.
Palatial dwellings are of no use to them.
* * * * *
One day Poh Loh
A Chinese Rarey, of somewhat legendary character.
appeared, saying, "I understand the management of horses."
So he branded them, and clipped them, and pared their hoofs, and put
halters on them, tying them up by the head and shackling them by the
feet, and disposing them in stables, with the result that two or three
in every ten died. Then he kept them hungry and thirsty, trotting them
and galloping them, and grooming, and trimming, with the misery of the
tasselled bridle before and the fear of the knotted whip behind, until
more than half of them were dead.
The potter says, "I can do what I will with clay. If I want it round, I
use compasses; if rectangular, a square."
The carpenter says, "I can do what I will with wood. If I want it
curved, I use an arc; if straight, a line."
But on what grounds can we think that the natures of clay and wood
desire this application of compasses and square, of arc and line?
Nevertheless, every age extols Poh Loh for his skill in managing
horses, and potters and carpenters for their skill with clay and wood.
Those who _govern_ the empire make the same mistake.
Now I regard government of the empire from quite a different point of
view.
The people have certain natural instincts;--to weave and clothe
themselves, to till and feed themselves. These are common to all
humanity, and all are agreed thereon. Such instincts are called
"Heaven-sent."
And so in the days when natural instincts prevailed, men moved quietly
and gazed steadily. At that time, there were no roads over mountains,
nor boats, nor bridges over water. All things were produced, each for
its own proper sphere. Birds and beasts multiplied; trees and shrubs
grew up. The former might be led by the hand; you could climb up and
peep into the raven's nest. For then man dwelt with birds and beasts,
and all creation was one. There were no distinctions of good and bad
men. Being all equally without knowledge, their virtue could not go
astray. Being all equally without evil desires, they were in a state of
natural integrity, the perfection of human existence.
But when Sages appeared, tripping people over charity and fettering
with duty to one's neighbour, doubt found its way into the world. And
then with their gushing over music and fussing over ceremony, the
empire became divided against itself.
Music and ceremonies are important factors in the Confucian system of
government.
Were the natural integrity of things left unharmed, who could make
sacrificial vessels? Were white jade left unbroken, who could make
the regalia of courts? Were Tao not abandoned, who could introduce
charity and duty to one's neighbour? Were man's natural instincts his
guide, what need would there be for music and ceremonies? Were the five
colours not confused, who would practise decoration? Were the five
notes not confused, who would adopt the six pitch-pipes?
See chs. viii and x.
Destruction of the natural integrity of things, in order to produce
articles of various kinds,--this is the fault of the artisan.
Annihilation of TAO in order to practise charity and duty to one's
neighbour,--this is the error of the Sage.
Horses live on dry land, eat grass and drink water. When pleased, they
rub their necks together. When angry, they turn around and kick up
their heels at each other. Thus far only do their natural dispositions
carry them. But bridled and bitted, with a plate of metal on their
foreheads, they learn to cast vicious looks, to turn the head to bite,
to resist, to get the bit out of the mouth or the bridle into it. And
thus their natures become depraved,--the fault of Poh Loh.
* * * * *
In the days of Ho Hsü
A legendary ruler of old.
the people did nothing in particular when at rest, and went nowhere in
particular when they moved. Having food, they rejoiced; having full
bellies, they strolled about. Such were the capacities of the people.
But when the Sages came to worry them with ceremonies and music in
order to rectify the form of government, and dangled charity and duty
to one's neighbour before them in order to satisfy their hearts,--then
the people began to develop a taste for knowledge and to struggle one
with the other in their desire for gain. This was the error of the
Sages.
The simplicity of style, and general intelligibility of this chapter
have raised doubts as to its genuineness. But as Lin Hsi Chung justly
observes, its sympathetic tone in relation to dumb animals, stamps it,
in spite of an undue proportion of word to thought, as beyond reach of
the forger's art.