Philosophy

Texts of Taoism
莊子
Chuang Tzu

Introductory Notes

BOOK XX. SHAN MÛ.

It requires a little effort to perceive that Shan Mû, the title of this Book, does not belong to it as a whole, but only to the first of its nine paragraphs. That speaks of a large tree which our author once saw on a mountain. The other paragraphs have nothing to do with mountain trees, large or small. As the last Book might be considered to be supplementary to 'the Nourishment of Life,' discussed in Book III, so this is taken as having the same relation to Book IV, which treats of 'Man in the World, associated with other men.' It shows by its various narratives, some of which are full of interest, how by a strict observance of the principles and lessons of the Tâo a man may preserve his life and be happy, may do the right thing and enjoy himself and obtain the approbation of others in the various circumstances in which he may be placed. The themes both of Books I and IV blend together in it. Paragraph 8 has more the character of an apologue than most of Kwang-dze's stories.

Book XX
Part II Section XIII

Shan Mû, or 'The Tree on the Mountain1.'

1. Kwang-dze was walking on a mountain, when he saw a great tree2 with huge branches and luxuriant foliage. A wood-cutter was resting by its side, but he would not touch it, and, when asked the reason, said, that it was of no use for anything, Kwang-dze then said to his disciples, 'This tree, because its wood is good for nothing, will succeed in living out its natural term of years.' Having left the mountain, the Master lodged in the house of an old friend, who was glad to see him, and ordered his waiting-lad to kill a goose and boil it. The lad said, 'One of our geese can cackle, and the other cannot;—which of them shall I kill?' The host said, 'Kill the one that cannot cackle.'

Next day, his disciples asked Kwang-dze, saying, 'Yesterday the tree on the mountain (you said) would live out its years because of the uselessness of its wood, and now our host's goose has died because of its want of power (to cackle);—which of these conditions, Master, would you prefer to be in?' Kwang-dze laughed and said, '(If I said that) I would prefer to be in a position between being fit to be useful and wanting that fitness, that would seem to be the right position, but it would not be so, for it would not put me beyond being involved in trouble; whereas one who takes his seat on the Tâo and its Attributes, and there finds his ease and enjoyment, is not exposed to such a contingency. He is above the reach both of praise and of detraction; now he (mounts aloft) like a dragon, now he (keeps beneath) like a snake; he is transformed with the (changing) character of the time, and is not willing to addict himself to any one thing; now in a high position and now in a low, he is in harmony with all his surroundings; he enjoys himself at case with the Author of all things3; he treats things as things, and is not a thing to them:—where is his liability to be involved in trouble? This was the method of Shän Näng and Hwang-Tî. As to those who occupy themselves with the qualities of things, and with the teaching and practice of the human relations, it is not so with them. Union brings on separation; success, overthrow; sharp corners, the use of the file; honour, critical remarks; active exertion, failure; wisdom, scheming; inferiority, being despised:—where is the possibility of unchangeableness in any of these conditions? Remember this, my disciples. Let your abode be here,-in the Tâo and its Attribute4.'

2. Î-liâo5, an officer of Shih-nan5, having an interview with the marquis of Lû6, found him looking sad, and asked him why he was so. The marquis said, 'I have studied the ways of the former kings, and cultivated the inheritance left me by my predecessors. I reverence the spirits of the departed and honour the men of worth, doing this with personal devotion, and without the slightest intermission. Notwithstanding, I do not avoid meeting with calamity, and this it is which makes me sad.' The officer said, 'The arts by which you try to remove calamity are shallow. Think of the close-furred fox and of the elegantly-spotted leopard. They lodge in the forests on the hills, and lurk in their holes among the rocks;—keeping still. At night they go about, and during day remain in their lairs; so cautious are they. Even if they are suffering from hunger, thirst, and other distresses, they still keep aloof from men, seeking their food about the Kiang and the Ho;—so resolute are they. Still they are not able to escape the danger of the net or the trap; and what fault is it of theirs? It is their skins which occasion them the calamity.

'And is not the state of Kû your lordship's skin? I wish your lordship to rip your skin from your body, to cleanse your heart, to put away your desires, and to enjoy yourself where you will be without the presence of any one. In the southern state of Yüeh, there is a district called "the State of Established Virtue." The people are ignorant and simple; their object is to minimise the thought of self and make their desires few; they labour but do not lay up their gains; they give but do not seek for any return; they do not know what righteousness is required of them in any particular case, nor by what ceremonies their performances should be signalised; acting in a wild and eccentric way as if they were mad, they yet keep to the grand rules of conduct. Their birth is an occasion for joy; their death is followed by the rites of burial. I should wish your lordship to leave your state; to give up your ordinary ways, and to proceed to that country by the directest course.'

The ruler said, 'The way to it is distant and difficult; there are rivers and hills; and as I have neither boat nor carriage, how am I to go?' The officer from Shih-nan rejoined, 'If your lordship abjure your personal state, and give up your wish to remain here, that will serve you for a carriage.' The ruler rejoined, 'The way to it is solitary and distant, and there are no people on it;—whom shall 1 have as my companions? I have no provisions prepared, and how shall I get food?-how shall I be able to get (to the country)?' The officer said, 'Minimise your lordship's expenditure, and make your wants few, and though you have no provisions prepared, you will find you have enough. Wade through the rivers and float along on the sea, where however you look, you see not the shore, and, the farther you go, you do not see where your journey is to end;—those who escorted you to the shore will return, and after that you will feel yourself far away. Thus it is that he who owns men (as their ruler) is involved in troubles, and he who is owned by men (as their ruler) suffers from sadness; and hence Yâo would neither own men, nor be owned by them. I wish to remove your trouble, and take away your sadness, and it is only (to be done by inducing you) to enjoy yourself with the Tâo in the land of Great Vacuity.

'If a man is crossing a river in a boat, and another empty vessel comes into collision with it, even though he be a man of a choleric temper, he will not be angry with it. If there be a person, however, in that boat, he will bawl out to him to haul out of the way. If his shout be not heard, he will repeat it; and if the other do not then hear, he will call out a third time, following up the shout with abusive terms. Formerly he was not angry, but now he is; formerly (he thought) the boat was empty, but now there is a person in it. If a man can empty himself of himself, during his time in the world, who can harm him?'

3. Pei-kung Shê7 was collecting taxes for duke Ling of Wei, to be employed in making (a peal of) bells. (In connexion with the work) he built an altar outside the gate of the suburban wall; and in three months the bells were completed, even to the suspending of the upper and lower (tiers). The king's son Khing-kî8 saw them, and asked what arts he had employed in the making of them. Shê replied, 'Besides my undivided attention to them, 1 did not venture to use any arts. I have heard the saying, "After all the carving and the chiselling, let the object be to return to simplicity." I was as a child who has no knowledge; I was extraordinarily slow and hesitating; they grew like the springing plants of themselves. In escorting those who went and meeting those who came, my object was neither to hinder the corners nor detain the goers. I suffered those who strongly opposed to take their way, and accepted those who did their best to come to terms. I allowed them all to do the utmost they could, and in this way morning and evening I collected the taxes. I did not have the slightest trouble, and how much more will this be the case with those who pursue the Great Way (on a grand scale)!'

4. Confucius was kept (by his enemies) in a state of siege between Khän and Zhâi9, and for seven days had no food cooked with fire to eat. The Thâi-kung Zân10 went to condole with him, and said, 'You had nearly met with your death.' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'Do you dislike death?' 'I do.' Then Zän continued, 'Let me try and describe a way by which (such a) death may be avoided.—In the eastern sea there are birds which go by the name Of Î-îs11; they fly low and slowly as if they were deficient in power. They fly as if they were leading and assisting one another, and they press on one another when they roost. No one ventures to take the lead in going forward, or to be the last in going backwards. In eating no one ventures to take the first mouthful, but prefers the fragments left by others. In this way (the breaks in) their line are not many12, and men outside them cannot harm them, so that they escape injury.

'The straight tree is the first to be cut down; the well of sweet water is the first to be exhausted. Your aim is to embellish your wisdom so as to startle the ignorant, and to cultivate your person to show the unsightliness of others. A light shines around you as if you were carrying with you the sun and moon, and thus it is that you do not escape such calamity. Formerly I heard a highly accomplished man say, "Those who boast have no merit. The merit which is deemed complete will begin to decay. The fame which is deemed complete will begin to wane." Who can rid himself of (the ideas of) merit and fame, and return and put himself on the level of the masses of men? The practice of the Tâo flows abroad, but its master does not care to dwell where it can be seen; his attainments in it hold their course, but he does not wish to appear in its display. Always simple and commonplace, he may seem to be "bereft of reason. He obliterates the traces of his action, gives up position and power, and aims not at merit and fame. Therefore he does not censure men, and men do not censure him. The perfect man does not seek to be heard of; how is it that you delight in doing so Confucius said, 'Excellent;' and thereupon he took leave of his associates, forsook his disciples, retired to the neighbourhood of a great marsh, wore skins and hair cloth, and ate acorns and chestnuts. He went among animals without causing any confusion among their herds, and among birds without troubling their movements. Birds and beasts did not dislike him; how much less would men do so!

5. Confucius asked Dze-sang Hû13, saying, 'I was twice driven from Lû; the tree was felled over me in Sung; I was obliged to disappear from Wei; I was reduced to extreme distress in Shang and Kâu14; and I was kept in a state of siege between Khän and Zhâi. I have encountered these various calamities; my intimate associates are removed from me more and more; my followers and friends are more and more dispersed;—why have all these things befallen me?' Dze-sang Hû replied, 'Have you not heard of the flight of Lin Hui of Kiâ15;—how he abandoned his round jade symbol of rank, worth a thousand pieces of silver, and hurried away with his infant son on his back? If it be asked, "Was it because of the market value of the child?" But that value was small (compared with the value of the jade token). If it be asked again, "Was it because of the troubles (of his office)?" But the child would occasion him much more trouble. Why was it then that, abandoning the jade token, worth a thousand pieces of silver, he hurried away with the child on his back? Lin Hui (himself) said, "The union between me and the token rested on the ground of gain; that between me and the child was of Heaven's appointment." Where the bond of union is its profitableness, when the pressure of poverty, calamity, distress, and injury come, the parties abandon one another; when it is of Heaven's appointment, they hold in the same circumstances to one another. Now between abandoning one another, and holding to one another, the difference is great. Moreover, the intercourse of superior men is tasteless as water, while that of mean men is sweet as new wine. But the tastelessness of the superior men leads on to affection, and the sweetness of the mean men to aversion. The union which originates without any cause will end in separation without any cause.'

Confucius said, 'I have reverently received your instructions.' And hereupon, with a slow step and an assumed air of ease, he returned to his own house. There he made an end of studying and put away his books. His disciples came no more to make their bow to him (and be taught), but their affection for him increased the more.

Another day Sang Hû said further to him, 'When Shun was about to die, he charged16 Yü, saying, 'Be upon your guard. (The attraction of) the person is not like that of sympathy; the (power of) affection is not like the leading (of example). Where there is sympathy, there will not be separation; where there is (the leading of) example, there will be no toil. Where there is neither separation nor toil, you will not have to seek the decoration of forms to make the person attractive, and where there is no such need of those forms, there will certainly be none for external things.'

6. Kwang-dze in a patched dress of coarse cloth, and having his shoes tied together with strings, was passing by the king of Wei, who said to him, 'How great, Master, is your distress?' Kwang-dze replied, 'It is poverty, not distress! While a scholar possesses the Tâo and its Attributes, he cannot be going about in distress. Tattered clothes and shoes tied on the feet are the sign of poverty, and not of distress. This is what we call not meeting with the right time. Has your majesty not seen the climbing monkey? When he is among the plane trees, rottleras, oaks, and camphor trees, he grasps and twists their branches (into a screen), where he reigns quite at his ease, so that not even Î17 or Phäng Mäng17 could spy him out. When, however, he finds himself among the prickly mulberry and date trees, and other thorns, he goes cautiously, casts sidelong glances, and takes every trembling movement with apprehension;—it is not that his sinews and bones are straitened, and have lost their suppleness, but the situation is unsuitable for him, and he cannot display his agility. And now when I dwell under a benighted ruler, and seditious ministers, how is it possible for me not to be in distress? My case might afford an illustration of the cutting out the heart of Pî-kan18!'

7. When Confucius was reduced to great distress between Khän and Khâi, and for seven days he had no cooked food to eat, he laid hold of a decayed tree with his left hand, and with his right hand tapped it with a decayed branch, singing all the while the ode of Piâo-shih19 . He had his instrument, but the notes were not marked on it. There was a noise, but no blended melody. The sound of the wood and the voice of the man came together like the noise of the plough through the ground, yet suitably to the feelings of the disciples around. Yen Hui, who was standing upright, with his hands crossed on his breast, rolled his eyes round to observe him. Kung-nî, fearing that Hui would go to excess in manifesting how he honoured himself, or be plunged in sorrow through his love for him, said to him, 'Hui, not to receive (as evils) the inflictions of Heaven is easy; not to receive (as benefits) the favours of men is difficult. There is no beginning which was not an end. The Human and the Heavenly may be one and the same. Who, for instance, is it that is now singing20?' Hui said, 'I venture to ask how not to receive (as evils) the inflictions of Heaven is easy.' Kung-nî said, 'Hunger, thirst, cold, and heat, and having one's progress entirely blocked up;—these are the doings of Heaven and Earth, necessary incidents in the revolutions of things. They are occurrences of which we say that we will pass on (composedly) along with them. The minister of another does not dare to refuse his commands; and if he who is discharging the duty of a minister feels it necessary to act thus, how much more should we wait with case on the commands of Heaven21!'

'What do you mean by saying that not to receive (as benefits) the favours of men is difficult?' Kung-nî said, 'As soon as one is employed in office, he gets forward in all directions; rank and emolument come to him together, and without end. But these advantages do not come from one's self;—it is my appointed lot to have such external good. The superior man is not a robber; the man of worth is no filcher;—if I prefer such things, what am I22? Hence it is said, "There is no bird wiser than the swallow." Where its eye lights on a place that is not suitable for it, it does not give it a second glance. Though it may drop the food from its mouth, it abandons it, and hurries off. It is afraid of men, and yet it stealthily takes up its dwelling by his; finding its protection in the altars of the Land and Grain23.

'What do you mean by saying that there is no beginning which was not an end?' Kung-nî said, 'The change—rise and dissolution—of all things (continually) goes on, but we do not know who it is that maintains and continues the process. How do we know when any one begins? How do we know when he will end? We have simply to wait for it, and nothing more24.'

'And what do you mean by saying that the Human and the Heavenly are one and the same?' Kung-nî said, 'Given man, and you have Heaven; given Heaven, and you still have Heaven (and nothing more). That man can not have Heaven is owing to the limitation of his nature25. The sagely man quietly passes away with his body, and there is an end of it.'

8. As Kwang Kâu was rambling in the park of Tiâo-ling26 he saw a strange bird which came from the south. Its wings were seven cubits in width, and its eyes were large, an inch in circuit. It touched the forehead of Kâu as it passed him, and lighted in a grove of chestnut trees. 'What bird is this?' said he, 'with such great wings not to go on! and with such large eyes not to see me!' He lifted up his skirts, and hurried with his cross-bow, waiting for (an opportunity to shoot) it. (Meanwhile) he saw a cicada, which had just alighted in a beautiful shady spot, and forgot its (care for its) body. (just then), a preying mantis raised its feelers, and pounced on the cicada, in its eagerness for its prey, (also) forgetting (its care for) its body; while the strange bird took advantage of its opportunity to secure them both, in view of that gain forgetting its true (instinct of preservation)27. Kwang Kâu with an emotion of pity, said, 'Ah! so it is that things bring evil on one another, each of these creatures invited its own calamity.' (With this) he put away his cross-bow, and was hurrying away back, when the forester pursued him with terms of reproach.

When he returned and went into his house, he did not appear in his courtyard28 for three months28. (When he came out), Lan Zü29 (his disciple) asked him, saying, 'Master, why have you for this some time avoided the courtyard so much?' Kwang-dze replied, 'I was guarding my person, and forgot myself; I was looking at turbid water, till I mistook the clear pool. And moreover I have heard the Master say30, "Going where certain customs prevail, you should follow those customs." I was walking about in the park of Tiâo-ling, and forgot myself. A strange bird brushed past my forehead, and went flying about in the grove of chestnuts, where it forgot the true (art of preserving itself). The forester of the chestnut grove thought that I was a fitting object for his reproach. These are the reasons why I have avoided the courtyard.'

9. Yang-dze, having gone to Sung, passed the night in a lodging-house, the master of which had two concubines;—one beautiful, the other ugly31. The ugly one was honoured, however, and the beautiful one contemned. Yang-dze asked the reason, and a little boy of the house replied, 'The beauty knows her beauty, and we do not recognise it. The ugly one knows her ugliness, and we do not recognise it.' Yang-dze said, 'Remember it, my disciples. Act virtuously, and put away the practice of priding yourselves on your virtue. If you do this, where can you go to that you will not be loved32?'

庄子·外篇·山木第二十

庄子行于山中,见大木,枝叶盛茂。伐木者止其旁而不取也。问其
故,曰:“无所可用。”庄子曰:“此木以不材得终其天年。”夫子
出于山,舍于故人之家。故人喜,命竖子杀雁而烹之。竖子请曰:“
其一能鸣,其一不能鸣,请奚杀?”主人曰:“杀不能鸣者。”明日
,弟子问于庄子曰:“昨日山中之木,以不材得终其天年;今主人之
雁,以不材死。先生将何处?”庄子笑曰:“周将处乎材与不材之间
。材与不材之间,似之而非也,故未免乎累。若夫乘道德而浮游则不
然,无誉无訾,一龙一蛇,与时俱化,而无肯专为。一上一下,以和
为量,浮游乎万物之祖。物物而不物于物,则胡可得而累邪!此神农
、黄帝之法则也。若夫万物之情,人伦之传则不然:合则离,成则毁
,廉则挫,尊则议,有为则亏,贤则谋,不肖则欺。胡可得而必乎哉
!悲夫,弟子志之,其唯道德之乡乎!”

市南宜僚见鲁侯,鲁侯有忧色。市南子曰:“君有忧色,何也?”
鲁侯曰:“吾学先王之道,修先君之业;吾敬鬼尊贤,亲而行之,无
须臾离居。然不免于患,吾是以忧。”市南子曰:“君之除患之术浅
矣!夫丰狐文豹,栖于山林,伏于岩穴,静也;夜行昼居,戒也;虽
饥渴隐约,犹且胥疏于江湖之上而求食焉,定也。然且不免于罔罗机
辟之患,是何罪之有哉?其皮为之灾也。今鲁国独非君之皮邪?吾愿
君刳形去皮,洒心去欲,而游于无人之野。南越有邑焉,名为建德之
国。其民愚而朴,少私而寡欲;知作而不知藏,与而不求其报;不知
义之所适,不知礼之所将。猖狂妄行,乃蹈乎大方。其生可乐,其死
可葬。吾愿君去国捐俗,与道相辅而行。”君曰:“彼其道远而险,
又有江山,我无舟车,奈何?”市南子曰:“君无形倨,无留居,以
为君车。”君曰:“彼其道幽远而无人,吾谁与为邻?吾无粮,我无
食,安得而至焉?”市南子曰:“少君之费,寡君之欲,虽无粮而乃
足。君其涉于江而浮于海,望之而不见其崖,愈往而不知其所穷。送
君者皆自崖而反。君自此远矣!故有人者累,见有于人者忧。故尧非
有人,非见有于人也。吾愿去君之累,除君之忧,而独与道游于大莫
之国。方舟而济于河,有虚船来触舟,虽有囗(左“忄”右“扁”音
bian3)心之人不怒。有一人在其上,则呼张歙之。一呼而不闻
,再呼而不闻,于是三呼邪,则必以恶声随之。向也不怒而今也怒,
向也虚而今也实。人能虚己以游世,其孰能害之!”

北宫奢为卫灵公赋敛以为钟,为坛乎郭门之外。三月而成上下之县
。王子庆忌见而问焉,曰:“子何术之设?”奢曰:“一之间无敢设
也。奢闻之:‘既雕既琢,复归于朴。’侗乎其无识,傥乎其怠疑。
萃乎芒乎,其送往而迎来。来者勿禁,往者勿止。从其强梁,随其曲
傅,因其自穷。故朝夕赋敛而毫毛不挫,而况有大涂者乎!”

孔子围于陈蔡之间,七日不火食。大公任往吊之,曰:“子几死乎
?”曰:“然。”“子恶死乎?”曰:“然。”任曰:“予尝言不死
之道。东海有鸟焉,其名曰意怠。其为鸟也,囗囗(左“羽”右“分
”)囗囗(左“羽”右“失”),而似无能;引援而飞,迫胁而栖;
进不敢为前,退不敢为后;食不敢先尝,必取其绪。是故其行列不斥
,而外人卒不得害,是以免于患。直木先伐,甘井先竭。子其意者饰
知以惊愚,修身以明囗(左“氵”右“于”),昭昭乎如揭日月而行
,故不免也。昔吾闻之大成之人曰:‘自伐者无功,功成者堕,名成
者亏。’孰能去功与名而还与众人!道流而不明居,得行而不名处;
纯纯常常,乃比于狂;削迹捐势,不为功名。是故无责于人,人亦无
责焉。至人不闻,子何喜哉!”孔子曰:“善哉!”辞其交游,去其
弟子,逃于大泽,衣裘褐,食杼栗,入兽不乱群,入鸟不乱行。鸟兽
不恶,而况人乎!

孔子问子桑囗(上“雨”下“乎”音hu4)曰:“吾再逐于鲁,
伐树于宋,削迹于卫,穷于商周,围于陈蔡之间。吾犯此数患,亲交
益疏,徙友益散,何与?”子桑hu4曰:“子独不闻假人之亡与?
林回弃千金之璧,负赤子而趋。或曰:‘为其布与?赤子之布寡矣;
为其累与?赤子之累多矣。弃千金之璧,负赤子而趋,何也?’林回
曰:‘彼以利合,此以天属也。’夫以利合者,迫穷祸患害相弃也;
以天属者,迫穷祸患害相收也。夫相收之与相弃亦远矣,且君子之交
淡若水,小人之交甘若醴。君子淡以亲,小人甘以绝,彼无故以合者
,则无故以离。”孔子曰:“敬闻命矣!”徐行翔佯而归,绝学捐书
,弟子无挹于前,其爱益加进。异日,桑hu4又曰:“舜之将死,
真泠禹曰:‘汝戒之哉!形莫若缘,情莫若率。’缘则不离,率则不
劳。不离不劳,则不求文以待形。不求文以待形,固不待物。”

庄子衣大布而补之,正囗(“契”字以“糸”代“大”音xie2
)系履而过魏王。魏王曰:“何先生之惫邪?”庄子曰:“贫也,非
惫也。士有道德不能行,惫也;衣弊履穿,贫也,非惫也,此所谓非
遭时也。王独不见夫腾猿乎?其得楠梓豫章也,揽蔓其枝而王长其间
,虽羿、蓬蒙不能眄睨也。及其得柘棘枳枸之间也,危行侧视,振动
悼栗,此筋骨非有加急而不柔也,处势不便,未足以逞其能也。今处
昏上乱相之间而欲无惫,奚可得邪?此比干之见剖心,徵也夫!”

孔子穷于陈蔡之间,七日不火食。左据槁木,右击槁枝,而歌焱氏
之风,有其具而无其数,有其声而无宫角。木声与人声,犁然有当于
人之心。颜回端拱还目而窥之。仲尼恐其广己而造大也,爱己而造哀
也,曰:“回,无受天损易,无受人益难。无始而非卒也,人与天一
也。夫今之歌者其谁乎!”回曰:“敢问无受天损易。”仲尼曰:“
饥渴寒暑,穷桎不行,天地之行也,运物之泄也,言与之偕逝之谓也
。为人臣者,不敢去之。执臣之道犹若是,而况乎所以待天乎?”“
何谓无受人益难?”仲尼曰:“始用四达,爵禄并至而不穷。物之所
利,乃非己也,吾命其在外者也。君子不为盗,贤人不为窃,吾若取
之何哉?故曰:鸟莫知于囗(左“意”右“鸟”音yi4)鸸,目之
所不宜处不给视,虽落其实,弃之而走。其畏人也而袭诸人间。社稷
存焉尔!”“何谓无始而非卒?”仲尼曰:“化其万物而不知其禅之
者,焉知其所终?焉知其所始?正而待之而已耳。”“何谓人与天一
邪?”仲尼曰:“有人,天也;有天,亦天也。人之不能有天,性也
。圣人晏然体逝而终矣!”

庄周游于雕陵之樊,睹一异鹊自南方来者。翼广七尺,目大运寸,
感周之颡,而集于栗林。庄周曰:“此何鸟哉!翼殷不逝,目大不睹
。”蹇裳囗(左“足”右“矍”音jue2)步,执弹而留之。睹一
蝉方得美荫而忘其身。螳螂执翳而搏之,见得而忘形。异鹊从而利之
,见利而忘其真。庄周怵然曰:“噫!物固相累,二类相召也。”捐
弹而反走,虞人逐而谇之。庄周反入,三日不庭。蔺且从而问之,“
夫子何为顷间甚不庭乎?”庄周曰:“吾守形而忘身,观于浊水而迷
于清渊。且吾闻诸夫子曰:‘入其俗,从其令。’今吾游于雕陵而忘
吾身,异鹊感吾颡,游于栗林而忘真。栗林虞人以吾为戮,吾所以不
庭也。”

阳子之宋,宿于逆旅。逆旅人有妾二人,其一人美,其一人恶。恶
者贵而美者贱。阳子问其故,逆旅小子对曰:“其美者自美,吾不知
其美也;其恶者自恶,吾不知其恶也。”阳子曰:“弟子记之:行贤
而去自贤之行,安往而不爱哉!”

Footnotes

back 1 See vol. xxxix, p. 151.

back 2 Compare the accounts of great trees in I, par. 6; IV, par. 1; et all.

back 3 The Tâo; called ###, in Bk. XII, par. 5.

back 4 But after all it comes to be the same thing in point of fact with those who ground themselves in the Tâo, and with others.

back 5 The Î-liâo here was a scion of the ruling House of Khû, and is mentioned fortunately in the Supplement to the Zo-khwan, under the very year in which Confucius died (B.C. 479). His residence was in the south of the 'Market Place' of the city where he lived, {footnote p. 29"> which is the meaning of the Shih-nan in the text. The description of his character is that no offer of gain could win him, and no threatening terrify him. We find him here at the court of Lû in friendly conference with the marquis, and trying to persuade him to adopt the ways of Tâoism, which he presents to him under the figure of an allegory, an utopia called 'the State of Established Virtue,' in the south of Yüeh.

back 6 Probably known to us as 'duke Âi'

back 7 Pei-kung, 'Northern Palace,' must have been the name of Shê's residence, and appears here as if it were his surname.

back 8 A son, probably of king King of Kâu (B.C. 544-529).—On the whole paragraph, see par. 10 of the preceding Book.

back 9 Compare Analects XI, ii.

back 10 We might translate Thai-kung by 'the grand-duke.' We know nothing about him. He tries to convert Confucius to Tâoism, just as Î-liâo does the marquis of Lû in par. 2; and for a time at least, as Kwang-dze makes it appear, with more success.

back 11 Were these Î-îs swallows? So some of the critics say.

back 12 A clause of uncertain meaning.

back 13 Supposed to have been a recluse.

back 14 I do not know the particulars of this distress in Shang and Kâu, or have forgotten them. A still more full recital of the sage's misfortunes occurs in Lieh-dze, VII, 8a.

back 15 The text here appears to be somewhat confused. Lin Hui is said to have been a man of the Yin dynasty, and of a state which was called Kiâ, and for the verification of such a state I have searched in vain. The explanation of his conduct put here into his mouth is very good.

back 16 The ### of the text here are allowed on all hands to be spurious, and ### have been substituted for them. What follows, however, from Shun to Yü, is far from being clear, in itself, or in its connexion.

back 17 Î;—see Book. V, par. 2. Phäng Mäng was a contemporary of Î, learned archery from him, and then slew him, that he might himself be the foremost archer in the kingdom;—see Mencius IV, ii, 24.

back 18 'A spurious paragraph, no doubt.' Lin Hsî-kung thus concludes what he has to say on this paragraph; but it is not without its interest and lessons.

back 19 I do not know who this was, nor what his ode or air was. Lû Teh-ming read the character ###, and says that Piâo-shih was one of the old royal Tîs who did nothing. In all my texts it is wrongly printed with three ###.

back 20 This question arose out of the previous statement that man and Heaven might be one,—acting with the same spontaneity.

back 21 Confucius recognises here, as he often does, a power beyond his own, 'his appointed lot,' what we call destiny, to which the Tâo requires submission. This comes very near to our idea of God.

back 22 Human gifts had such an attraction, that they tended to take from man his heavenly spontaneity; and were to be eschewed, or received only with great caution.

back 23 What is said here about the swallow is quite obscure. Hsî-kung says that all the old attempts to explain it are ridiculous, and then propounds an ingenious one of his own; but I will leave the passage with my reader to deal with it as he best can.

back 24 Compare with this how in Book XVIII we find Kwang-dze singing by the dead body of his wife.

back 25 That man is man and not Heaven is simply from the limitation of his nature,—his 'appointed lot.'

back 26 Tâo-ling might be translated 'Eagle Mount.' Where it was I do not know; perhaps the name originated with Kwang-dze, and thus has become semi-historical.

back 27 Kwang-dze might now have shot the bird, but we like him the better for letting it alone.

back 28 So then, masters of schools, like Kwang-dze, received and taught their disciples in the courtyard of their house;—in China as elsewhere. For three 'months,' it is conjectured, we should read three 'days.'

back 29 The disciple Lan Zü appears here, but not, so far as I know, elsewhere.

back 30 Who was this 'Master?'

back 31 The story here is found in Lieh-dze 11, 15 a, b. The Yang-dze is there Yang Kû, against whom Mencius so often directed his arguments.

back 32 See the greater part of this paragraph in Prémare's 'Notitia Linguae Sinicae,' p. 200, with his remarks on the style.