CHAPTER XXVII.

LANGUAGE.

_Argument_:--Speech, natural and artificial--Natural speech in harmony

with the divine--Destiny--The ultimate cause--Purification of the

soul--Illustrations.

Of language put into other people's mouths, nine tenths will succeed.

Of language based upon weighty authority, seven tenths. But language

which flows constantly over, as from a full goblet, is in accord with

God.

The natural overflowings of the heart.

When language is put into other people's mouths, outside support is

sought. Just as a father does not negotiate his son's marriage; for any

praise he could bestow would not have the same value as praise by an

outsider. Thus, the fault is not mine, but that of others.

Who will not believe the original speaker.

To that which agrees with our own opinions we assent; from that which

does not we dissent. We regard that which agrees with our own opinion

as right. We regard that which differs from our opinion as wrong.

Language based on weighty authority is used to bar further argument.

The authorities are our superiors, our elders in years. But if they

lack the requisite knowledge and experience, being our superiors only

in the sense of age, then they are not our superiors. And if men are

not the superiors of their fellows, no one troubles about them. And

those about whom no one troubles are merely stale.

Language which flows constantly over, as from a full goblet, is in

accord with God.

Embracing both positive and negative in ONE.

Because it spreads out on all sides, it endures for all time. Without

language, contraries are identical. The identity is not identical with

its expression: the expression is not identical with its identity.

Therefore it has been said, Language not expressed in language is not

language. Constantly spoken, it is as though not spoken. Constantly

unspoken, it is not as though not spoken.

From the subjective point of view, there are possibilities and

impossibilities, there are suitabilities and unsuitabilities. This

results from the natural affinity of things for what they are and their

natural antagonism to what they are not. For all things have their own

particular constitutions and potentialities. Nothing can exist without

these.

See p. 19.

But for language that constantly flows over, as from a full goblet, and

is in accord with God, how should the permanent be attained?

All things spring from germs. Under many diverse forms these things

are ever being reproduced. Round and round, like a wheel, no part of

which is more the starting-point than any other. This is called the

equilibrium of God. And he who holds the scales is God.

Alluding to the Identity-philosophy, which means, in the words of

Emerson, "that nature iterates her means perpetually on successive

planes.... The whole art of the plant is still to repeat leaf on leaf

without end."

* * * * *

Chuang Tzŭ said to Hui Tzŭ, "When Confucius reached his sixtieth year

he changed his opinions. What he had previously regarded as right, he

ultimately came to regard as wrong. But who shall say whether the right

of to-day may not be as wrong as the wrong of the previous fifty-nine

years?"

See p. 345.

"He was a persevering worker," replied Hui Tzŭ, "and his wisdom

increased day by day."

His conversion was no spasmodic act.

"Confucius," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "discarded both perseverance and

wisdom, but did not attempt to formulate the doctrine in words. He

said, 'Man has received his talents from God, together with a soul to

give them life. He should speak in accordance with established laws.

His words should be in harmony with fixed order. Personal advantage

and duty to one's neighbour lie open before us. Likes and dislikes,

rights and wrongs, are but as men choose to call them. But to bring

submission into men's hearts, so that they shall not be stiff-necked,

and thus fix firmly the foundations of the empire,--to that, alas! I

have not attained.'"

"From the above," says Lin Hsi Chung, "we may see that Hui Tzŭ, though

skilled in winning debates was unskilled in winning hearts."

* * * * *

Tsêng Tzŭ held office twice. His emotions varied in each case.

See pp. 100, 352.

"As long as my parents were alive," said he, "I was happy on a small

salary. When I had a large salary, but my parents were no more, I was

sad."

A disciple said to Confucius, "Can we call Tsêng Tzŭ a man without

cares to trouble him?"

Money being no object to him.

"He had cares to trouble him," replied Confucius. "Can a man who has no

cares to trouble him feel grief? His small salary and his large salary

were to him like a heron or a mosquito flying past."

* * * * *

Yen Ch'êng Tzŭ Yu said to Tung Kuo Tzŭ Chi,

See p. 324.

"One year after receiving your instructions I became naturally simple.

After two years, I could adapt myself as required. After three years,

I understood. After four years, my intelligence developed. After five

years, it was complete. After six years, the spirit entered into me.

After seven, I knew God. After eight, life and death existed for me no

more. After nine, perfection.

"Life has its distinctions; but in death we are all made equal. That

death should have an origin, but that life should have no origin,--can

this be so? What determines its presence in one place, its absence in

another?

"Heaven has its fixed order.

Visible to all.

Earth has yielded up its secrets to man. But where to seek whence am I?

"Not knowing the hereafter, how can we deny the operation of Destiny?

Not knowing what preceded birth, how can we assert the operation of

Destiny? When things turn out as they ought, who shall say that the

agency is not supernatural? When things turn out otherwise, who shall

say that it is?"

* * * * *

The various Penumbræ said to the Umbra, "Before you were looking down,

now you are looking up. Before you had your hair tied up, now it is all

loosed. Before you were sitting, now you have got up. Before you were

moving, now you are stopping still. How is this?"

"Gentlemen," replied the Umbra, "the question is hardly worth asking.

Ultimate causes being unknowable.

I do these things, but I do not know why. I am like the scaly back of

the cicada, the shell of the locust,--apparently independent, but not

really so. By firelight or in daylight I am seen: in darkness or by

night I am gone. And if I am dependent on these, how much more are they

dependent on something else? When they come, I come with them. When

they go, I go with them. When they live, I live with them. But who it

is that gives the life, how shall we seek to know?"

Repeated, with variations, from ch. ii.

* * * * *

Yang Tzŭ Chü

See p. 100.

went southwards to P'ei, and when Lao Tzŭ was travelling westwards

to Ch'in, hastened to receive him outside the city. Arriving at the

bridge, he met Lao Tzŭ; and the latter standing in the middle of the

road, looked up to heaven and said with a sigh, "At first, I thought

you could be taught. I think so no more."

Yang Tzŭ Chü made no reply, but when they reached the inn, handed

Lao Tzŭ water for washing and rinsing, and a towel and comb. He then

removed his own boots outside the door, and crawling on his knees

into the Master's presence, said, "I have been wishing to ask for

instruction, Sir, but as you were travelling and not at leisure, I did

not venture. You are now, Sir, at leisure. May I enquire the reason of

what you said?"

"You have an overbearing look," said Lao Tzŭ. "Who would live with such

a man? He who is truly pure behaves as though he were sullied. He who

has virtue in abundance behaves as though it were not enough."

These last two sentences occur in the _Tao-Tê-Ching_, ch. xli, and

also in the works of Lieh Tzŭ as part of that author's own text. See

_The Remains of Lao Tzŭ_, p. 29.

Yang Tzŭ Chü changed countenance at this, and replied, "I hear and

obey."

Now when Yang Tzü Chü first went to the inn, the visitors there had

come out to receive him. Mine host had arranged his mat, while the

landlady held towel and comb. The visitors had given him up the best

seats, and those who were cooking had left the stove free for him. But

when he went back,

After his interview with Lao Tzŭ.

the other visitors struggled to get the best seats for themselves.

So changed was he in spirit.

Lin Hsi Chung considers that this chapter should immediately precede

what is now ch. xxxii, from which it has been separated by the

interpolation of the four following chapters, all admittedly spurious.

Chuang Tzu: Mystic, Moralist, and Social Reformer · 第 27 / 33 章