In the World of Men

In the World of Men

Yan Hui went to see Zhongni and asked permission to leave. "Where are you going?" asked Zhongni. "I am going to Wei." "What will you do there?" "I have heard that the lord of Wei is in his prime and acts on his own judgment. He uses his state lightly and does not see his own faults. Because he uses it lightly, the people die. The dead fill the state, so many that by a marsh they look like firewood. The people have nowhere to turn. I once heard you, Master, say, 'Leave a well-governed state; go to a disordered state. At the doctor's door there are many sick.' I wish to take what I have heard and think it through—perhaps the state may be healed?"

Zhongni said, "Ai! You will probably go and meet with punishment! The Way does not wish to be mixed. When mixed, there is much; when there is much, there is disturbance; when there is disturbance, there is worry; and worry leads to no salvation. The perfect men of old first established it in themselves, then established it in others. What has not yet been established in oneself—how can one have the leisure to address the conduct of a violent man? Moreover, do you know how virtue is dissipated and how knowledge comes forth? Virtue is dissipated through fame. Knowledge comes forth through strife. Fame is what grinds people against one another. Knowledge is the instrument of strife. Both are inauspicious instruments; they are not sufficient to perfect one's conduct. And if one's virtue is thick and one's trust is solid, but one has not yet reached others' spirits; if one's name is not yet one of contention, but one has not yet reached others' hearts—and one forcibly speaks words of benevolence and righteousness, of rule and pattern, before a violent man, this is to display one's own excellence through others' wickedness. Such a person is called a harmer of others. He who harms others will surely be harmed by others in return. You will probably be harmed by him! And if the lord delights in the worthy and dislikes the unworthy, why would he seek you out to be different from the rest? If you offer no remonstrance, the lord will take advantage of others and contend with them in eloquence. Your eyes will be dazzled by it; your countenance will become conciliatory; your mouth will contrive to respond; your bearing will show it; and your mind will assent to it. This is to fight fire with fire, to fight water with water—it is called 'adding to more.' If you begin by going along with him, there will be no end. You will probably speak earnest words to one who does not believe them, and die before that violent man!

"In the past, Jie killed Guan Longfeng and Zhou killed Prince Bigan. Both of them cultivated themselves and, from a lower position, showed kindness to the people's welfare, and from a lower position offended their superiors. Therefore their lords used their very cultivation to crush them. This was because they loved fame. In the past, Yao attacked Congzhi and Xu'ao; Yu attacked Youhu. Their states were laid waste, their persons were cut down. They did not cease their military campaigns; their pursuit of actual gain had no end. All of these sought fame and actual gain. Have you alone not heard of this? Fame and actual gain are things even the sage cannot overcome—how much less can you?"

"Nevertheless," continued Zhongni, "you must have some plan. Try to tell me about it."

Yan Hui said, "If I am upright and empty, and strive to be unified, would that do?"

"No! How could that do? You will be filled with yang energy and display it outwardly. Your expression will be uncertain. Ordinary people will not cross you. You will rely on suppressing what others feel, to seek the indulgence of your own heart. This is called 'daily gradual progress' in virtue—and it does not succeed, to say nothing of great virtue! You will be obstinate and untransformed. Outwardly you may agree, but inwardly you will not reflect. How can that possibly do?"

"Then I shall be inwardly straight and outwardly bending, and make my comparisons by appealing to the past. To be inwardly straight is to be a companion of Heaven. To be a companion of Heaven is to know that the Son of Heaven and myself are alike children of Heaven. And would I then speak words, hoping that people will approve of them, or hoping that people will disapprove of them? One who does this is called a child. This is what is meant by being a companion of Heaven. To be outwardly bending is to be a companion of men. To hold the tablet, to kneel, to bow—these are the rituals of a minister. Others all do them; how dare I not do them? One who does what others do—others will find no fault in him. This is what is meant by being a companion of men. To make comparisons by appealing to the past is to be a companion of antiquity. Although his words carry instruction and reproof, their substance belongs to antiquity—they do not belong to me. If one does this, though he be upright, he will not be blamed. This is what is meant by being a companion of antiquity. Would this do?"

Zhongni said, "No! How could that do? Too many regulatory methods, and they are not reliable. Though you may be blameless, that is all. You will stop at that, that is all. How could you reach transformation? You are still taking your mind as your master."

Yan Hui said, "I have nothing more to advance. May I ask the method?"

Zhongni said, "I will fast, and then I will tell you. But to act when you have a plan—would that be easy? Easy it would be if it were in harmony with the bright Heaven, but it is not fitting."

Yan Hui said, "My family is poor. I have not drunk wine or eaten meat for several months. Can this be considered fasting?"

"That is the fasting of sacrifice, not the fasting of the heart."

"May I ask about the fasting of the heart?"

Zhongni said, "Unify your will. Do not listen with the ears but listen with the mind. Do not listen with the mind but listen with the qi. Listening stops at the ears. The mind stops at tallying with things. Now qi is empty and waits for things. Only the Way gathers in emptiness. Emptiness is the fasting of the heart."

Yan Hui said, "Before I received this instruction, I was indeed Hui. After receiving it, there has never been a Hui. Can this be called emptiness?"

The Master said, "That is complete! I will tell you: If you can enter and wander within the enclosure, not being moved by fame—if you enter, you cry out; if you do not enter, you stop. Do not seek a door, do not seek a poison. Dwell unified and lodge in the inevitable, and you will be close to it. To leave no traces is easy; to walk without walking on the ground is difficult. Acting on behalf of others, it is easy to be false. Acting on behalf of Heaven, it is difficult to be false. You have heard of flying with wings; you have not heard of flying without wings. You have heard of knowing through knowledge; you have not heard of knowing without knowledge. Look into that which is empty: an empty room generates brightness, and good fortune comes to rest. If it does not come to rest, this is called 'sitting in galloping.' If you follow the inner communication of the ears and eyes and put the knowing mind outside, then even ghosts and spirits will come to lodge—how much more so will other men! Such is the transformation of the ten thousand things. This is the knot of Yu and Shun, the constant practice of Fu Xi and Ji Qu—how much more so those who are scattered among the rest!"

**Ye Zigao was about to be sent on a mission to Qi and asked Zhongni, "The king has entrusted me with a very important assignment. The state of Qi, in receiving envoys, is likely to show great respect but without urgency. Even an ordinary man cannot be easily swayed, much less a feudal lord! I am truly terrified. You always used to tell me: 'In all matters, whether small or large, few are accomplished without following the Way. If the matter fails, there will certainly be the suffering that comes from human affairs; if the matter succeeds, there will certainly be the suffering that comes from yin and yang. Only one who has virtue can be free from suffering whether the matter succeeds or fails.' My food is plain and I do not store up delicacies; there is no one in my kitchen who seeks to cool himself. Yet now I received my orders in the morning and by evening I am drinking ice—must I not be burning inside? Before I have even come face to face with the reality of the matter, I already have the suffering of yin and yang; if the matter fails, there will certainly be the suffering that comes from human affairs. These two sufferings are more than a minister can bear. Do you have anything to tell me?"**

**Zhongni said, "There are two great prohibitions in the world: one is destiny, and one is duty. A child's love for its parents is destiny—it cannot be released from the heart. A minister's service to his lord is duty—there is no place one can go where there is not a lord. There is nowhere to escape between heaven and earth: these are called the great prohibitions. Therefore, one who serves his parents, making them content no matter what the circumstances, has reached the utmost of filial piety. One who serves his lord, accepting whatever task he is given, has reached the height of loyalty. One who cultivates his own heart, so that sorrow and joy do not shift before him, who knows what cannot be helped and accepts it as destiny—this is the utmost of virtue. One who serves as a minister or a son certainly has things he cannot avoid. If he acts according to the reality of the situation and forgets himself, when would he have the leisure to delight in life and hate death? Sir, you may go! Let me repeat what I have heard: in all dealings, if the parties are close, they must treat each other with good faith; if they are distant, they must be loyal in their words. Words must be transmitted by someone. Transmitting words of mutual delight or mutual resentment is one of the most difficult things in the world. When both parties are delighted, there will inevitably be many exaggerated words of praise; when both are resentful, there will inevitably be many exaggerated words of condemnation. All exaggeration is a kind of falseness; when it is false, no one believes it; when no one believes it, the one who transmits the words suffers. Therefore the Model Sayings state: 'Transmit the ordinary feelings; do not transmit the exaggerated words, and you will come close to preserving yourself.' Moreover, those who contend in cleverness and force begin with the bright and usually end with the dark; when they go to the extreme, there are many devious tricks. Those who drink wine according to ritual begin with order and usually end with disorder; when they go to the extreme, there is much wild revelry. All matters are like this: they begin with sincerity and usually end with baseness. What is simple in the beginning is bound to be vast in the end. Words are wind and waves; actions are real losses. Wind and waves are easy to set in motion; real losses are easy to bring danger. Therefore, anger arises without cause; clever words and one-sided statements—when an animal is dying it does not choose its cries; its breath comes forth in a rush, and along with it arises a heart of malice. When harshness and severity reach their extreme, an unworthy response is certain to arise, and one does not even know why. If one does not even know why, who can know where it will end? Therefore the Model Sayings state: 'Do not alter the command; do not push for completion.' To go beyond the proper limit is to add to things. Altering the command or pushing for completion endangers the matter. Good things take a long time to achieve; bad things are beyond remedy—can one not be careful? Moreover, to ride upon things and let the heart wander, to entrust oneself to what cannot be helped and thereby nourish the center—this is the utmost. What need to make a deliberate effort to repay? Nothing is better than conveying the mandate truly. This is the difficult part."**

**Yan He was about to become tutor to the crown prince of Duke Ling of Wei and asked Qu Boyu, "Here is a man whose natural endowment is to kill. If I have no method with him, I endanger my state; if I have a method with him, I endanger myself. His knowledge is sufficient only to recognize the faults of others, not to understand why they are at fault. In such a case, what am I to do?"**

**Qu Boyu said, "Well asked! Be on your guard! Be careful! Rectify yourself! In outward form, nothing is better than compliance; in the heart, nothing is better than harmony. Even so, these two carry dangers. In compliance, do not go so far as to be absorbed; in harmony, do not let it show so as to stand out. If your outward form complies and you are absorbed, you will be overturned, destroyed, toppled, and ruined. If your inner harmony shows and stands out, you will become a voice, a name, a demon, a pest. If he acts like an infant, act like an infant with him; if he acts without boundaries, act without boundaries with him; if he acts without limits, act without limits with him. Penetrate through to the point where there is no flaw. Have you not heard of the praying mantis? It angrily thrusts its arms against the wheels of a cart, not knowing that it cannot bear the burden—such is the pride it takes in its own abilities! Be on your guard! Be careful! If you accumulate acts of self-praise and use them to offend him, you will be in danger! Have you not heard of the keeper of tigers? He does not give them living creatures, because of the rage they feel when killing them; he does not give them whole animals, because of the rage they feel when tearing them apart. He times their hunger and fullness and understands the heart of their anger. The tiger is a different species from man, yet it fawns upon the one who feeds it—this is because it goes along with him. Therefore, when it kills, it is because something has gone against it. There was a lover of horses who used a basket to collect their dung and a large shell to catch their urine. When a mosquito happened to land on the horse, he slapped it at an unguarded moment, and the horse bit through the bit, smashed the bridle, and broke the breast strap. His intention reached the utmost, but his love missed the mark—can one not be careful?"**

A carpenter named Shi traveled to Qi and, upon arriving at Quyuan, saw an oak tree serving as the shrine of the earth spirit. So vast was it that it could shelter an entire herd of cattle; when measured with a rope, its girth was a hundred spans. Its height overlooked the mountains, and only after rising ten ren did it put forth branches—branches from which ten or more boats could be made. Spectators thronged around it like a market crowd, but Carpenter Bo gave it not a glance and walked on without stopping. His exhausted student caught up to him and said, "Ever since I took up my axe to follow you, I have never seen timber so fine as this. Yet you refused to even look at it and walked on without stopping. Why?" The carpenter said, "Enough! Say no more! It is a worthless piece of wood! Make a boat of it and it would sink; make a coffin and it would rot quickly; make a vessel and it would break quickly; make a door and it would ooze sap; make a pillar and it would be infested with insects. It is a tree of no use, and because it is of no use, it has been able to live so long."

When Carpenter Shi returned home, the shrine oak appeared to him in a dream and said: "What will you compare me to? Will you compare me to those cultivated trees? The jujube, pear, orange, pomelo, and all kinds of fruit—once their fruit is ripe, they are stripped and abused; their large branches are broken and their small branches are torn. It is their very usefulness that embitters their lives. Thus they are unable to finish their allotted span but perish midway, beaten down by the world. All things are so. I sought to be of no use for a long time. I nearly died, but now I have attained it—and this is of great use to me. Were I of any use, could I have grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things—how can one thing judge another? And you, a worthless man on the verge of death, how could you understand a worthless tree?"

Carpenter Shi awoke and interpreted the dream for his student. The student said: "If it sought only to be useless, why did it serve as the earth shrine?" The carpenter said: "Hush! Say nothing! It merely lodged itself there to be reviled by those who do not understand it. Had it not served as a shrine, would it not have been in danger of being cut down? Moreover, what it preserves is different from what others preserve. To praise it by conventional standards of righteousness would miss the point by far."

Nanbo Ziqi was wandering on Mount Shang when he saw a great tree of remarkable appearance. A thousand teams of four horses could gather beneath it and find shelter in its shade. Ziqi said, "What kind of tree is this? It must possess some extraordinary quality!" He looked up at its small branches—gnarled and crooked, unsuitable for beams or rafters. He looked down at its large roots—split and twisted, unsuitable for coffins. He licked its leaves and his mouth blistered and was injured. He sniffed it and was driven to a drunken madness that lasted three days. Ziqi said, "This is indeed a tree of no use, and it has grown to this immense size precisely because of it. Ah! It is by their worthlessness that divine beings attain their greatness."

In the state of Song there was a place called Jingshi, where catalpas, cypresses, and mulberries flourished. Trunks no thicker than one or two hand-spans were cut down to make pegs for hanging monkeys. Those of three or four spans in circumference were cut down by families of high rank and renown to make ornamental boards. Those of seven or eight spans were cut down by noble households and wealthy merchants to make coffin panels. Thus they were never able to finish their allotted span but perished midway beneath the axe—this is the calamity of being useful. For the river sacrifice, an ox with a white forehead, a pig with a raised snout, or a person with hemorrhoids cannot be used—all this the shamans and diviners know and consider inauspicious. But this is precisely what the divine being considers greatly auspicious.

There was a man named Zhili Shu—"Scattered and Lopsided." His chin was hidden in his navel, his shoulders rose above his head, his hair bun pointed to the sky, his five organs were on top, his thighs served as ribs. By mending clothes and sifting grain he could feed himself. By casting lots and winnowing grain he could feed ten men. When the court conscripted soldiers, Zhili rolled up his sleeves and was left unmolested among the crowd. When the court called for great labor service, Zhili was excused because of his chronic infirmity. When the court distributed grain to the sick, he received three measures and ten bundles of firewood. A man so lopsided in body can still nourish himself and live out his natural span—how much more so a man who is lopsided in virtue!

When Confucius traveled to Chu, the Madman of Chu named Jieyu wandered past his gate and sang:

"Phoenix, phoenix,

How your virtue has declined!

The future cannot be awaited,

The past cannot be pursued.

When the world has the Way, the sage flourishes.

When the world lacks the Way, the sage survives.

In this present age, it is enough merely to escape punishment.

Happiness is lighter than a feather—no one knows how to carry it.

Disaster is heavier than the earth—no one knows how to avoid it.

Enough, enough!

Do not parade your virtue before others.

Dangerous, dangerous!

Walk as if following a marked path.

Thorny brambles, thorny brambles—

Do not impede my way.

My path turns and twists—

Do not wound my feet."

Mountain trees bring upon themselves the axe. Grease fires bring upon themselves the cooking. The cinnamon tree is edible, so it is felled. The lacquer tree is useful, so it is tapped. Everyone knows the use of usefulness—no one knows the use of uselessness.