Master Tian Zi Fang

Master Tian Zi Fang

Tian Zifang was in attendance on Marquis Wen of Wei, and repeatedly praised Xi Gong. The marquis said, "Xi Gong—is he your teacher?" Zifang replied, "No. He is a fellow villager of Wuze. His praise of the Way often hits the mark, so Wuze praises him." The marquis said, "Then do you have no teacher?" Zifang said, "I do." "Who is your teacher?" said the marquis. Zifang said, "Dongguo Shunzi." The marquis said, "Then why have you never spoken of this Master of yours?" Zifang said, "He is genuine in his person. He has the appearance of a human being but the emptiness of Heaven. He follows along and preserves his genuineness; he is pure and yet accommodating toward things. When things go astray, he corrects his countenance and awakens them, causing their intentions to dissolve. How could Wuze be worthy of praising him!" When Zifang left, the marquis stood dazed and did not speak all day. He summoned the ministers standing before him and said to them, "How far-reaching is the gentleman of complete virtue! At first I believed that the words of sagely knowledge and the practice of benevolence and righteousness were the highest. When I heard of Zifang's teacher, my body slackened and I did not wish to move; my mouth was as if clamped shut and I did not wish to speak. What I have been studying is nothing but dried-out clay dolls! Indeed, Wei is a burden to me!"

Wenbo Xuezi traveled to Qi and lodged in Lu. A man from Lu requested an audience with him. Wenbo Xuezi said, "It cannot be done. I have heard that the gentlemen of the central states are clear on ritual and righteousness but crude in knowing the human heart. I do not wish to see him." He went to Qi and on his way back lodged again in Lu, and the same man once more requested an audience. Wenbo Xuezi said, "Previously he sought to see me; now again he seeks to see me. He must have something to startle me." He went out to see the guest and came back sighing. The next day he saw the guest and again came back sighing. His servant said, "Each time you see this guest, you come back sighing. Why?" He said, "I already told you: 'The people of the central states are clear on ritual and righteousness but crude in knowing the human heart.' Those who came to see me advanced and retreated with perfect measure, moved with perfect poise, now like a dragon, now like a tiger. They admonished me like sons and guided me like fathers. That is why I sighed." Zhongni saw him but said nothing. Zilu said, "You, my master, have wished to see Wenbo Xuezi for a long time. Now that you have seen him, why do you say nothing?" Zhongni said, "A man like this—the Way is present at a glance. There is no room even for words!"

Yan Yuan asked Zhongni, "When you walk, I walk; when you quicken your pace, I quicken my pace; when you run, I run. But when you race beyond the dust and I stand staring, left far behind—" The Master said, "Hui, what do you mean?" Yan Yuan said, "When you walk, I also walk; when you speak, I also speak. When you quicken your pace, I also quicken my pace; when you argue, I also argue. When you run, I also run; when you speak of the Way, I also speak of the Way. But when you race beyond the dust and I stand staring, left behind—it is because you are trusted without speaking, you draw others close without forming cliques, you hold no office yet the people flock to you, and I do not know how it comes about. That is all." Zhongni said, "Hmm! Can you not examine this? There is no greater death than the death of the heart, and the death of the body is secondary. The sun rises in the east and sets in the western extreme; all things orient themselves accordingly. Those with eyes and feet depend on it to accomplish their tasks. When it rises, they exist; when it sets, they perish. So it is with all things as well—they die depending on something, they live depending on something. Once I received my form, I hold to it and await exhaustion. I respond to things and move, day and night without a gap, not knowing where it will end. I grow and take form; I know that fate cannot be foreseen. That is why I press forward each day. All my life I have been with you, and in the space of an arm's length I lose you—can this not grieve me? You fixate on what I have made manifest. But that is already exhausted, and yet you seek it as if it were still there. That is like searching for horses in a market after they have already passed. I forget you very thoroughly; you forget me very thoroughly. Even so, what is there to worry about? Though the old me is forgotten, there remains something in me that is not forgotten."

Laozi was visited by Confucius. Laozi had just washed his hair and was letting it spread to dry. He sat there, so still and strange, that he hardly seemed human. Confucius withdrew quietly and waited. After a little while he approached and said, "Was I dazzled, or is this really how you are? Just now your body was as rigid as a dead tree. It seemed as though you had abandoned all things, left mankind, and stood in solitude."

Laozi said, "I was wandering in the beginning of things."

Confucius said, "What do you mean?"

Laozi said: "The mind is so bewildered it cannot grasp it; the mouth is so closed it cannot speak it. Let me try to sketch it for you, roughly. The utmost Yin is solemn and stern; the utmost Yang is brilliant and shining. The solemn and stern comes forth from heaven; the brilliant and shining is sent forth from earth. The two intermingle, interpenetrate, and from their harmony things are produced. Perhaps there is some thread that binds them, yet no one sees their form. Waxing and waning, filling and emptying, now dark, now bright; day after day, month after month, transformation goes on, yet no one sees the process at work. Life has its point of germination; death has its point of return. Beginning and end turn upon a circuit with no visible starting point, and no one knows where the cycle exhausts itself. If not this, then what could be the ancestral source?"

Confucius said, "May I ask what it is like to wander in this?"

Laozi said: "To attain this is the utmost beauty and the utmost joy. To attain the utmost beauty and wander in the utmost joy—this is called the Ultimate Man."

Confucius said, "I should like to hear the method."

Laozi said: "Beasts that feed on grass do not fret over a change of pasture; creatures that live in water do not fret over a change of stream. They undergo a minor alteration without losing their fundamental constancy, and so joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure never enter their breasts. Now all under heaven is the place where the myriad things are one. If you can attain this unity and identify with it, then the four limbs and hundred parts of your body will become so much dust and dirt, and life and death, beginning and end, will be no different from day and night—nothing could possibly disturb them, to say nothing of distinctions like gain and loss, disaster and fortune! One who casts off a servant will cast him off as though he were mud, for he knows that his own body is more precious than the servant. What is precious lies in me and is not lost through change. And since the ten thousand transformations have no beginning and no end, what is there that should trouble the heart? Those who have attained the Way have freed themselves from all this."

Confucius said: "Your virtue matches heaven and earth, and yet you still borrow these ultimate words to cultivate your heart. The gentlemen of old—who could ever be free of such striving?"

Laozi said: "Not so. Water, in its flowing, acts without effort—such is the nature of the inborn. The Ultimate Man, in his virtue, does not cultivate it, yet nothing can depart from him. As heaven is naturally high, earth is naturally thick, the sun and moon are naturally bright—what cultivation is there in that?"

Confucius came out and reported to Yan Hui, saying: "As far as the Way is concerned, I have been like a tiny vinegar-bug! If the Master had not lifted the cover from me, I would never have known the completeness of heaven and earth!"

Zhuangzi was received by Duke Ai of Lu. The duke said, "Lu has many Confucian scholars, but few who practice your Way, sir."

Zhuangzi said, "Lu has few Confucians."

The duke said, "The whole state of Lu is wearing Confucian dress—how can you say there are few?"

Zhuangzi said: "I have heard this: a Confucian who wears a round cap understands the seasons of heaven; one who wears square shoes understands the contours of earth; one who wears a jade pendant at his sash decides matters as they arise. But a gentleman who possesses the Way need not wear the dress; one who wears the dress need not understand the Way. Since you are clearly of the opposite opinion, why not issue a proclamation throughout the state saying, 'Anyone who wears this dress without possessing this Way shall be put to death'?"

The duke issued the proclamation, and after five days there was no one in the state of Lu who dared wear Confucian dress. Only one man stood at the duke's gate in Confucian attire. The duke immediately summoned him and questioned him on affairs of state; however he turned and twisted his answers, he was never at a loss.

Zhuangzi said: "In the whole state of Lu there is only one Confucian—can you call that many?"

Baili Xi kept rank and salary from entering his heart, so that when he fed the cattle they grew fat, and Duke Mu of Qin forgot his lowliness and entrusted him with the government. Emperor Shun kept life and death from entering his heart, and so he was capable of moving others.

Lord Yuan of Song was about to have a picture painted. All the court painters arrived, received his bow, and stood waiting; they licked their brushes and mixed their ink. Half of them remained outside. One painter arrived late, sauntering in without hurry. He received the bow but did not stand, and instead went straight to his quarters. The duke sent someone to observe him, and found him sitting there with his clothes off, naked and cross-legged. The duke said, "This man will do—he is a true painter!"

King Wen was observing the district of Zang when he saw an old man fishing. Yet his fishing was not really fishing—he was not holding his rod in order to fish; he was simply always fishing. King Wen wished to promote him and entrust him with the government, but he feared that the ministers and lords would be uneasy. He wished to let the matter drop and dismiss the man, but he could not bear to think of the people being left without a protector. So at dawn he summoned the ministers and said: "Last night I had a dream of a good man, dark-complexioned with a full beard, riding a dappled horse with one red hoof, who commanded me, 'Entrust the government to the old man of Zang—perhaps then the people will be healed!'"

The ministers looked startled. "It is your late lord," they said.

King Wen said, "Then let us divine it?"

The ministers said, "It is the command of your late lord—what else could there be to it? Why divine?"

So they welcomed the old man of Zang and entrusted him to the government. The established laws were not altered; no partial edicts were issued. After three years, King Wen surveyed the state and found that the ranked gentlemen had broken up their cliques and dissolved their factions; the chief officers did not seek to build personal prestige; and foreign measures of grain and liquid were not permitted to enter the borders. That the ranked gentlemen had broken up their cliques and dissolved their factions meant that all were treated as one. That the chief officers did not seek to build personal prestige meant that all worked together on the same tasks. That foreign measures were not permitted to enter the borders meant that the feudal lords harbored no divided loyalties.

King Wen then took the old man as his grand mentor, faced north, and asked, "Can this government be extended to all under heaven?"

The old man of Zang gave no answer, staring blankly; he spoke vaguely and dismissed the question. In the morning he issued orders; by night he had fled. He was never heard from again.

Yan Hui asked Zhongni, "Was King Wen still not complete? And why did he resort to a dream?"

Zhongni said, "Be silent, do not speak! King Wen had gone as far as he could. What criticism is needed? He simply followed the impulse of the moment."

Lie Yü-khou shot for Bo-hun Wu-jen. He drew the bow to its fullest, placed a cup of water on his elbow, and released. As one arrow flew, another was already nocked; as it struck, a third was in place. Throughout it all, he stood like a carved figure.

Bo-hun Wu-jen said, "This is shooting that shoots. It is not shooting that does not shoot. Suppose we were to climb a high mountain, stand on a perilous crag, and look down over a chasm of eight hundred feet—could you shoot then?"

Thereupon Wu-jen climbed a high mountain, stood on a perilous crag, and looked down over a chasm of eight hundred feet. He backed up until two-tenth of his feet hung over the edge, bowed to Yü-khou, and invited him forward. Yü-khou lay prostrate on the ground, sweat streaming down to his heels.

Bo-hun Wu-jen said, "The ultimate man peers up into the blue heavens, plunges down into the yellow springs, roams freely through the eight extremities of the world, yet his spirit and breath remain unchanged. Now you shudder and your eyes show fear—you are in danger of failing at the heart of it!"

Jian Wu asked Sunshu Ao, "You served three times as prime minister without flourishing, and three times you were dismissed without showing any sign of grief. At first I doubted you, but now I observe the easy, natural expression about your nose and mouth. What is your way of thinking?"

Sunshu Ao replied, "How have I surpassed others? I consider that what comes cannot be refused, and what goes cannot be stopped. I recognize that gain and loss are not matters within my own control, and so I simply show no sign of grief. How have I surpassed others? Besides, I do not know whether the true significance lies in that office, or whether it lies in me. If it lies in that office, then it has nothing to do with me. If it lies in me, then it has nothing to do with that office. I am content to hesitate, to look around me—how would I have the leisure to concern myself with whether others honor me or debase me?"

When Zhongni heard of this, he said, "The true men of ancient times—the wise could not entice them, the beautiful could not seduce them, the robbers could not coerce them, even Fuxi and Huangdi could not make friends with them. Death and life are momentous events, yet they brought no change to such men—how much less would rank and emolument? Those who are thus, their spirit passes through great mountains without hindrance, enters deep springs without getting wet, dwells in low and humble places without weariness, and fills the whole world. When they give themselves to others, they themselves possess the more."

The King of Chu and the Lord of Fan were sitting together. After a short while, the King's attendants three times announced that Fan had been destroyed. The Lord of Fan said, "The destruction of Fan is not enough to destroy what I preserve. If the destruction of Fan is not enough to destroy what I preserve, then the preservation of Fan is not enough to preserve what I preserve. Looking at it from this perspective, then Fan has never been destroyed, and Chu has never been preserved."