CHAPTER I
Tsêng-tzŭ held office in Chü,[2]
receiving as salary three ping[3]
of grain. At that time Tsêng-tzŭ valued his pay but held lightly
his person. After his parents had died, Ch`i invited him to be
minister, and Ch`u and Chin each invited him to be prime
minister. At that time Tsêng-tzŭ valued his person but held
lightly to his pay. With one who "keeping his jewel in his bosom,
leaves his country to confusion,"[4]
it is not possible to speak of
jên; with one who, distressing his person, stints his parents [by
not holding office], it is not possible to discuss filial duty. One
whose "burden is heavy and whose course is long"[5]
is not particular
about the place where he rests; one whose family is poor
and whose parents are old is not particular about the office he
will fill. Truly, the superior man will anxiously[6]
hasten after the
opportunity, considering the present business to be urgent.
[7]
As
the saying goes, if a man takes office without meeting with the
proper time, or is overconscientious in discharging his duties, or
serves another without entering into his schemes,
[8]
the reason is
poverty. The Ode says,
[9]
[Only until] the early dawn[10]
are we with the prince;
Fates are not the same.
Tradition tells about the woman in the "hsing-lu" [Ode].[2]
She
had been promised in marriage, but as yet had not gone [to her
husband's house]. Seeing one present missing, one rite not perfect,
she preserved her chastity and kept her principles pure, and
would sooner have died[3]
than go. The superior man regards her
as having attained that which is fitting to a woman's duty,[4]
and
so he uses her as an exemplar and makes a song to disseminate it.
Thereby he does away with improper seeking and prevents immoral
acts. The Ode says,
Though you have forced me to trial,
I will still not follow you.[5]
Confucius was traveling south on his way to Ch`u when he
came to the declivity[2]
of A-ku, where a maiden who wore a
semi-circle of jade[3]
at her belt was washing clothes. Confucius
said, "No doubt yonder woman can be approached?" He drew
out a cup[4]
and handed it to Tzŭ-kung saying, "Address her
politely,[5]
that we may see what she says."
Tzŭ-kung said to the woman, "I, a humble northerner on my
way south to Ch`u, find the weather hot. Ardently6 I think of
you; I wish to beg a drink to demonstrate my feelings." The
woman replied, "This declivity of A-ku [holds] a winding stream,
whose water is alternately clear and turbid as it flows on its way
to the sea. If you wish to drink, then drink. Why ask a woman?"
She took Tzŭ-kung's cup, went to the stream and dipped it in
against the current; then she threw out the water with a splash
and dipped it in again with a splash, following the current,[7]
and
filled it to overflowing. Kneeling she placed it on the sand and
said, "According to etiquette (li) it must not be handed over
directly."[8]
Tzŭ-kung reported this, and Confucius said, "I knew it." Drawing
out a lute, he removed its pegs and handed it to Tzŭ-kung
saying, "Address her politely, that we may see what she says."
Tzŭ-kung said, "The words you have just spoken are soothing
as a pure breeze,[9]
not contradicting what I said; they have harmonized
and made easy my mind. Here is a lute without pegs;
I would like you to tune it for me. The woman replied, "I am a
rustic person, uncultivated and ignorant.[10]
Not knowing the five
tones,[11]
how could I tune your lute?"
Tzŭ-kung reported this, and Confucius said, "I knew it." He
drew out five liang of hemp,[12]
which he handed to Tzŭ-kung, saying,
"Address her politely, that we may see what she says."
Tzŭ-kung said, "I am a man from a northern rustic town on
my way south to Ch`u. Here I have five liang of hemp. Though I
dare not consider it worthy of yourself, I shall venture to place it
by the bank of the stream."
The woman replied, "Your behavior is wrong . . .[13]
dividing up
property and casting it away on a rustic person. I am too young—
how would I dare receive it from you?[14]
If you do not take it
away immediately. . . ."[15]
The Ode says,[16]
In the south rise the trees without branches,
Affording no shelter.
By the Han are girls rambling about,
But it is vain to solicit them.
This is illustrated in the above [story].
Duke Ai asked Confucius, "Does the possessor of knowledge
live out his span?"
Confucius said, "Certainly. There are three ways in which a
man dies that are not determined by fate, but are of his own
choosing. Those whose residence is not taken care of, those who
are immoderate in eating and drinking, those who in toil and idleness
go to excess[2]
will all of them be killed off by sickness. Those
who, occupying an inferior position, like to oppose their superiors;
those whose desires are insatiable; and those who seek incessantly
will all of them be killed by the law. Those who with a few oppose
the many, who with weakness insult the strong, who in anger do
not take stock of their strength will all of them be killed in war.
Thus there are three ways in which a man dies that are not determined
by fate, but are of his own choosing." The Ode says, [3]
If a man have no moderation in his behavior,
What should he do but die?
There is a traditional saying: "In the heavens nothing is
brighter than sun and moon; on earth nothing is brighter than
water and fire; in man nothing is brighter than li and i." Now
when the sun or moon is not high it does not illuminate what is
distant; and when fire or water is not brought together in a mass,
its rays are not extensive; and when li and i are not used in a
state, then its fame is not clear. Just as human fate depends on
heaven, the destiny of a state depends on
li. If a ruler esteems
[2]
li and honors sages, he will reign as a True King. If he lays emphasis
on law and loves the people, he will rule as a hegemon. If
he loves profit and practices many deceits, he will be in danger.
If he plots in an opportunist manner to overthrow [other states],
he will perish. The Ode says,
[3]
If a man observes no li,
Why does he not quickly die?
The superior man has the capacity of universal[2]
aptitude. If
he uses it to regulate breathing and nourish his vitality,[3]
his body
will follow after P`êng-tsu;[4]
if he uses[5]
it to put in order his
person and strengthen himself, his fame will match that of Yao
and Yü. If he is suited to the times, then he will come through;
if he is in a precarious position from being in straits he will be at
ease.[6]
This is so because he truly is one who practices li. In
general, as for the art of applying the mind, if
li is followed, order
will prevail;
[7]
if
li is not followed, the result will be confusion and
disorder. If in food and drink, in clothing, in activity and rest,
and in dwelling, a person follows
li, he will be at peace;
[8]
if he
does not follow
li, he will become feeble and develop illnesses.'
[9]
If in appearance and behavior, in activity and movements,
[10]
a
person follows
li he will be courteous; if he does not follow
li,
he will be rude and vulgar.
[11]
Government without
li will not be
effective; royal affairs without
li will not be complete; a state
without
li will not be peaceful, and a king without
li is not far
removed from the day of his destruction.
[12]
The Ode says,
[13]
If a man observes no li
Why does he not quickly die?
There is a traditional saying: "The extreme of a lack of jên
is to neglect[2]
one's parents. The extreme of disloyalty is to rebel
against one's prince. The extreme of untrustworthiness is to cheat
one's friends." Those guilty of these three [crimes] are the ones a
saintly ruler puts to death without mercy. The Ode says,
[3]
If a man has no moderation in his behavior,[4]
What should he do but die?
The Prince Pi-kan sacrificed himself and thus completed his
loyalty. Liu-hsia Hui sacrificed himself and thus completed his
trustworthiness.[2]
Po-i and Shu-ch'i sacrificed themselves and thus
completed their integrity. These four[3]
sages were all of them the
empire's gentlemen of understanding.[4]
Nor is there any question
of their not valuing their persons. If i is not established and
his fame not apparent, a gentleman is ashamed; this is why they
sacrificed themselves and so brought to perfection their [ideal of]
conduct. Viewed in this light, it is not low condition or poverty
that a gentleman is ashamed of. [What a gentleman should be
ashamed of is][5]
that when the world holds up loyalty he does not
partake of it, and when it honors trustworthiness he does not
partake of it, and when it honors integrity he does not partake of
it. If these three [qualities] are preserved in a person, his fame
is transmitted to [later] generations;[6]
he ranks together with sun
and moon, [un]resting.
[7]
Heaven cannot kill him, nor can earth
bury him;
[8]
in the time of a Chieh or a Chou, he cannot be sullied.
So it is not that, hating life, he rejoices in death, or
[9]
hating riches
and honor, he loves poverty and low condition. Through the true
principle, when honor comes to him, he serves in office without
refusing. Confucious said, "If the search for riches is sure to be
successful, though I should become a groom with whip in hand
to get them, I will do so."
[10]
Truly, "though harassed to extremity,
they were not downcast"; and though toiling to degradation,
they did not act improperly. Only then was there perfection.
[11]
The Ode says,
[12]
My mind is not a stone;—
It cannot be rolled about.
My mind is not a mat;—
It cannot be rolled up.
This is illustrated above.
Yüan Hsien dwelt in Lu in a house only one tu on a side;[2]
it
was thatched with grasses; the door was a mat, and the window
the mouth of a broken pot;[3]
a bent mulberry tree served as door
support;
[4]
above, [the roof] leaked, and below [the floor] was wet.
After seating himself correctly, he would play the lute and sing.
Tzŭ-kung came to see him, with fat horses to his carriage and
wearing light furs,
[5]
deep purple inside
[6]
and undyed outside. Since
his high chariot could not get into the lane, he walked up to call
upon him. Yüan Hsien answered the door, [wearing] a cap of
ch`u[7]
bark and carrying a wooden staff. He straightened his cap
and the string broke; he adjusted the lapel of his gown and his
elbows came out; he put on his shoes and the heels burst.
Tzŭ-kung said, "Eh, sir, what ails you?"
Yüan Hsien looking up answered, "I have heard that to be
without property is termed poverty, and that to be unable to put
into practice what one has studied is termed ailing. I am poor;
I am not ailing. Now acting with an eye to public opinion, making
friends on a partisan basis, studying for the sake of others[8]
and
teaching for one's own sake,[9]
so that jên and i are concealed, so
that horse and carriage are ostentatious, so that clothes and furs
are elegant—I cannot bear to practice the like."
Tzŭ-kung drew back, his face colored with shame, and he left
without saying farewell. Whereupon Yüan Hsien returned with
slow steps, trailing his stick and singing the Sacrificial Odes of
Shang.[10]
The sound merged with Heaven and Earth, as though it
issued from metal and stone [musical instruments]. The emperor
had no way of getting him as minister and the feudal lords had
no way of getting him for a friend. Truly he who is cultivating
his person forgets his family, and he who cultivates his will forgets
his person. Since he does not love even his person, who can dishonor
him? The Ode says,
[11]
My mind is not a stone;—
It cannot be rolled about.
My mind is not a mat;—
It cannot be rolled up.
Traditionally, as for one who is termed a gentleman, though
he may not be able to perfect himself in the methods of right
conduct, certainly there is that which he follows, and though he
may be unable to complete himself in the good,[2]
certainly there
is that wherein he abides. He does not try to say a great deal, he
is simply careful about what he does. Having done a thing, he
holds to it,[3]
and having promised a thing, he fulfills his words, no
more able to change in that than in the flesh of his body or his life.
The Ode says,[4]
My mind is not a stone;—
It cannot be rolled about.
My mind is not a mat;—
It cannot be rolled up.
According to tradition, when the superior man purifies himself,
his peers associate with him. When he refines his speech,[2]
those
of his class respond to him. When horses neigh, [other] horses
respond; when cattle low, [other] cattle respond; this is not the
result of knowledge, but it is their nature makes it thus. Truly,
"one who has newly washed his hair will dust off his cap, and
one who has newly bathed will shake out his clothing." No one[3]
would subject his own cleanliness to another's filthiness.
[4]
The Ode
says,
[5]
My mind is not a mirror;—
You cannot scrutinize it.
When Ching attacked Ch`ên, the western gate of [the capital of]
Ch`ên was broken down. Afterwards the people who had surrendered
were sent to repair it. Confucius passed by without
bowing.[2]
Tzŭ-kung, who was holding the reins, asked, "According
to etiquette (li), on passing three persons one descends [from the
chariot], and on passing two persons one bows. Now there is a
crowd of Ch`ên natives repairing the gate; why is it you did not
bow?"
Confucius said, "Not to know when a state is perishing is not
to be wise. To know it but not fight is not to be loyal. To fight[3]
but not die is not to be brave. Although there is a crowd of those
repairing the gate, they are unable to put into practice a single
one of these [precepts]. That is why I did not bow."
The Ode says,[4]
My anxious heart is full of trouble,
And I am hated by the crowd of mean creatures.
Mean men, however many, are not worth treating with etiquette
(
li).
There is a traditional saying: "Those who like getting[2]
must
be subject to many resentments, and those who love giving must
steal much." Only by obliterating one's traces among men can one
conform to the naturalness of Heaven and Earth; only
[3]
by being
able to rise above desire
[4]
will one not have a love for fame. If
fame rise up, then the Way is not being used. If the Way is in
operation, then for men there is no rank. Now profit is the root
of injury; and prosperity is the precursor of calamity. Only he
who does not seek profit will escape injury, and he who does not
seek prosperity will escape calamity. The Ode says,
[5]
He hates none; he covets nothing;—
What does he which is not good?
There is a traditional saying: "The man with good hearing
hears for himself, and the one with good sight observes for himself."[2]
If hearing and sight are good, then jên and love will be
manifest, and integrity and shame will be distinguished. Thus if a
thing is done that is not in conformity with the right way, it will
not succeed, even with great efforts. If a thing to which one has no
right[3]
is sought after, if will not be got, even though strength be
employed. For this reason the wise person does not do a thing
not appropriate to himself, and the man of integrity does not seek
that to which he has no right. In this way harm is kept away
and fame is exhibited. The Ode says,[4]
He hates none; he covets nothing;—
What does he which is not good?
15
There is a traditional saying: "He who is content with his lot
and nourishes his vitality need not wait to collect and garner to
be rich." He whose name is spread in the world is eminent not
only after he has a position of power. As moral power and
i
permeate him inside, there is nothing he need seek outside. How
true it is that the sage does not try to get fame and profit from
the world. The Ode says,
[1]
He hates none; he covets nothing;—
What does he which is not good?
In antiquity the Son of Heaven had five gongs on his left [and
right][2]
sides. When he was about to go out, the huang-chung[3]
was struck, and the five gongs on the right echoed to it. The
horses' neigh fit the pitch [of the huang chung]. The chariots were
in the pattern [of the music]; the drivers were in the number [of
the music]. [The officials] stood up and then bowed respectfully.[4]
They folded their hands and then [held their arms as though]
grasping drums. When they walked, they went exactly; when
they turned back, they went correctly.[5]
After that the Grand
Music Master[6]
offered up the music of mounting the chariot,
thereby announcing that [the Son of Heaven] was going out.
When he [was about to] re-enter the palace, the jui pin was
struck[7]
to [let him] prepare his bearing. When he had achieved
[the proper] bearing, his countenance was in harmony. When his
countenance was in harmony, his features
[8]
were in repose. When
the
jui pin sounded, herons flapped their wings, horses neighed,
and even of creatures of the lower order none but stretched out
their necks to listen. All the inmates of the palace had the color
of jade;
[9]
outside all had voices of metal. After that the Inferior
Music Master
[10]
offered up the music of ascending the hall and
went to his seat, thereby announcing that [the Son of Heaven]
was returning. This expresses the idea of music being harmonious,
of things being moved, and of [objects with] similar tones responding.
[11]
The Ode says,
[12]
With bells and drums[13]
we show our delight in him.
This is illustrated in the above.
When a fish out of water[2]
[is hung up by] a thread in its mouth,
it is not long before it is worm-eaten. The term of life of [a
man's] two parents is brief as [a galloping horse] passing a crack.[3]
A tree wishes to grow luxuriant, but frost and dew do not allow it,[4]
and the worthy gentleman wishes to make his name, but his two
parents will not tarry. [Truly][5]
"one whose family is poor and
whose parents are old is not particular about the office he will
fill." The Ode says,[6]
Though it be like a blazing fire,[7]
Your parents are very near.
The above is a development of this.
Confucius said,[2]
"The superior man has three worries: That he
does not know—can he not but worry? That he knows but does
not study[3]
[what he knows]—can he not but worry? That he
studies but does not practice what he has studied—can he not
but worry? The Ode says,[4]
When I have not yet seen the superior man,
My sorrowful heart is very sad.
When Kung-fu Wên-po of Lu died, his mother did not weep.
Chi-sun, hearing of this, said, "Kung-fu Wên-po`s mother is a
virtuous woman. If she does not weep at her son's death, there
must be a reason." He sent a man to make inquiries. [The mother]
replied, "Formerly I had this son of mine serve Chung-ni. When
Chung-ni left Lu, in sending him off [my son] did not go beyond
the suburbs of the capital of Lu; in making him presents, he did
not give him the family's precious objects.[2]
When [my son] was
sick I did not see any gentleman come to visit him,[3]
and when he
died I did not see any shed tears for him. But on the day of his
death there were ten of his female attendants who, putting on
sackcloth and white mourning clothes, followed him [to the
grave.]
[4]
This shows that toward gentlemen he was lacking, and
toward women too generous. This is why I did not weep," The
Ode says:
[5]
Here is this man,
With virtuous words, but really not good.
There is a traditional saying: "When Heaven and Earth are
united, the generative force achieves its quintessence; when yin
and yang wane and wax, [respectively], transformations are seasonable."
If the time is right, the result is order; if the time is wrong,
the result is confusion. Now man at birth is incomplete in five
respects: his eyes are without sight, he cannot eat, or walk, or
speak, or reproduce. By three months he can focus his eyes,[2]
and
then he can see; by eight[3]
months he grows teeth, and then he can
eat; by one year his kneecap is formed,
[4]
and then he can walk;
by three years his skull has grown together,
[5]
and then he can
speak; by sixteen the semen passes and then he can reproduce.
Yin and yang revert from one to the other.[6]
Yin is linked in
its transformations to yang, and yang is linked to yin. Now a
boy grows teeth at eight months; he loses his milk teeth at eight
years; at sixteen the semen develops and to some extent passes.
A girl grows teeth at seven months; she loses her milk teeth at
seven years, and at fourteen her fluids develop and to some extent
flow. Thus in their transformations yang is linked to yin and yin
is linked to yang.[7]
Now when in an unworthy person sexual change is complete,
the generative force is stimulated; his sexual feelings are excited,
and he gives free rein to his desires, going against and upsetting
his reproductive activities,[8]
and so dying prematurely, fails to
enjoy long life. The Ode says,[9]
That person
Has his heart only on being married.
Greatly is he untrue to himself,
And does not recognize [the law of] his lot.
It is not thus with the sage. When his sexual vitality is overflowing,
he thinks of getting posterity. He regrets that the occation
cannot be taken advantage of,[10]
but if he has no regular way
out, he then gives vent to his feelings and desires in singing of
the Way and of i. The Ode says,[11]
How lovely is the retiring girl!
She has to await me at a corner of the wall.
Loving and not seeing her,
I scratch my head, and am in perplexity.
Look at that sun and moon![12]
Long, long do I think.
The way is distant;
How can he come to me?
These are words referring to an urgent occasion. This is why it
speaks of the sun and moon.
When the Governor of Po, of Ch`u, was in difficulty,[2]
there was
a certain Chuang Chih-shan,[3]
who took leave of his mother to go
die for his prince.[4]
His mother said, "Is it right to leave your mother to die for
your prince?"
He said, "I have heard that in serving his prince, a man takes
pay for his own family but devotes his person to someone outside
his family. Now what I use to support my mother is the salary
I get from my prince. I beg to go die for him."
On the way to the court he thrice fell down in his chariot.
His servant said, "If you are afraid, why not turn back?"
He said, "Fear is my personal feeling. To die for my prince is
my public duty. I have heard that the superior man does not let
personal feelings interfere with his public duty." Then he went
and died for him.
[5]
When the superior man hears of this he says, "Who really loves
his duty (i) must, alas, carry it out." The Ode says,[6]
If deep, I will go through with my clothes on;
If shallow, I will do so, holding them up.
This is illustrated in the above [story].
At the time of Duke Ling of Chin the people of Sung killed
[their] Duke Chao.[2]
Chao Hsüan-tzŭ asked Duke Ling for an
army to aid [those loyal to] the Duke. Duke Ling said, "This is
not the concern of the state of Chin."
Hsüan-tzŭ said, "That is not so. The most important thing is
[the relation between] Heaven and Earth; next comes [that between]
prince and subject. [These relations] are the means whereby
accord is brought about. Now they have killed their prince,
and in so doing have turned against [the relation between] Heaven
and Earth and have acted contrary to the Way of man. Certainly
Heaven will visit them with calamity. If Chin, as Executor of
the Covenant, does not go to the rescue, it is to be feared that
Heaven's punishment will come to us. The Ode says,[3]
When among common people there was a death,
I crawled on my knees to help them.
How much the more should one do so when it is the ruler of a
state]!" Thereupon Duke Ling followed his advice by raising
an army. When the people of Sung heard of it they gravely
rejoiced, and the state of Chin daily became more prosperous.
How was this? It came from their punishing the rebellious and
preserving the accordant. The Ode says,
[3]
When among common people there was a death,
I crawled on my knees to help them.
Chao Hsüan-tzŭ is an example of this.
There is a traditional saying: "When the water is muddy the
fish come to the surface for air; when orders are harsh, the people
fall into disorder; if the city walls are [too] steep, they will [be
sure to][2]
collapse; if the bank is [too] steep it is [sure to] cave in."
Hence Wu Ch`i, who made harsh criminal law, was torn to pieces
between chariots;[3]
Shang Yang, who made the laws severe, was
torn limb from limb.[4]
The governing of a state may be compared
to tuning a lute. When the large strings are too tight, the small
strings break. Truly, "he who tightens bridle and bit is not a
thousand-li charioteer." The sound that has sound does not go
beyond a hundred li; the sound without sound spreads to the ends
of the world.[5]
Thus one whose pay exceeds his services is pared
down, and one whose reputation exceeds the reality suffers loss.
When feelings and actions are in accord with reputation, disaster
and prosperity do not arrive without cause. The Ode says,[6]
Why does he rest without stirring?
It must be he has someone to be with.
Why does he prolong the time?
There must be a reason for his conduct.
Truly, only when there is inaction is one no longer hampered
by the external world,[7]
even though he prolongs his life.
There is a traditional saying: "Clothes and appearance are
what delight the eyes; repartee and speech are what delight the
ears; likes and dislikes, rejection and retention are what delight
the mind." Thus the superior man is moderate in dress and
correct in appearance, so that the eyes of the people are delighted.
His speech is humble and his repartee apt, so that the ears of the
people are delighted. He retains jên and rejects what is not jên,
so that the people's minds are delighted. With these three [faculties]
preserved in himself, even if he does not take office, his will
be called fitting conduct.[2]
Thus if [a man] preserves the good in
his heart and daily renews it, then dwelling alone he is happy, and
replete with virtue he acts.[3]
The Ode says,[4]
Why does he rest without stirring?
It must be he has someone to be with.
Why does he prolong the time?
There must be a reason for his conduct.
25
The types of jên are four, the least of which is that of scrupulousness.
There is the jên of the saint, of the wise man, of the
virtuous man, and of the scrupulous man. Above, he knows
Heaven and is able to use its proper seasons;[1]
below, he knows
Earth and is able to use its produce; in the middle he knows man,
and is able to make him happy and at his ease: this is the jên
of the saint. Above, he likewise knows Heaven and is able to use
its seasons; below, he knows Earth and is able to use its produce;
in the middle he knows man, and is able to cause others to let him
do as he likes: this is the jên[2]
of the wise man. Being broad-minded,
he is tolerant of the masses
[3]
and [so inspires] the trust of
the people; the way he achieves this end is not to hamper them
in their seasons: this is the
jên of the virtuous man. He is scrupulous,
clean, upright, and correct. He hates disorder, but will
not put it to rights; he loathes depravity, but he does not rectify
it. Though he may live in a village, [for him] it is like sitting in
dirt and ashes.
[4]
He may be ordered to enter the court, but to him
it is like going through hot water and fire. He will not command
a people whom he does not esteem
[5]
or taste food of which he does
not approve. Although he hates a time of disorder he thinks
nothing of dying. Paying no attention to family ties, he reduces
things to rule to an inauspicious degree. Such is the
jên of the
scrupulous man.
There is a traditional saying:[6]
"If the mountain is [merely] a
pinnacle, it cannot be high, and if the water flows straight, then
it cannot be deep." [In the same way,] if jên is scrupulous, then
its efficacy is not great.
One who aspires to rank with Heaven and Earth—that person's
case is not auspicious. Such was the conduct of Po-i, Shu-ch`i,
Pien-sui, Chieh Tzŭ-t`ui, Yüan Hsien, Pao Chiao, Yüan Ching-mu,[7]
and Shên-t`u Ti. The measure of Heavenly Mandate which
they received brought them only so far.[8]
They were unable to
change it.[9]
Even though they should wither away, they did not
rid themselves of it. The Ode says:[10]
So it is![11]
Heaven has done it;—
What then shall I say?
Although the
jên of the scrupulous man is inferior, still the Saint
does not despise it, because the means of rectifying the people
lies therein.
Shên-t`u Ti[2]
thought he was born out of his time,[3]
and was
about to cast himself into the River. Ts`ui Chia learning of this
stopped him, saying, "I have heard that [the function of] the
saintly man and the humane gentleman between Heaven and
Earth[4]
is to be father and mother to the people. Now is it right
not to come to the rescue of a drowning man by reason of [fearing]
wet feet?"[5]
Shên-t`u said, "Not so. [Of old][6]
Chieh by putting Kuan Lung-fêng
to death, and Chou by killing the Prince Pi-kan, lost their
empires. Wu by killing Tzŭ-hsü, and Ch`ên by killing Hsieh Yeh,
had their states destroyed. Therefore the loss of a state or the
destruction of a family is not [caused by] a lack of saints and
sages, but it is the result of not using them." Whereupon embracing
a stone, he sank into the River.
When the superior man hears of this he says, "He was scrupulous
indeed, but as to his being jên, this I have yet to see."[7]
The Ode says,[8]
So it is!
Heaven has done it;—
What then shall I say?
Pao Chiao's clothes were so worn his skin showed through; he
was holding a basket and gathering vegetables[2]
when he met
Tzŭ-kung on the road. Tzŭ-kung said, "My dear sir, what has
brought you to this?"
Pao Chiao said, "In the empire there are a host of teachers
who have abandoned virtue. How could I not have come to this?
I have heard that the man who keeps on acting when the world
does not know him is acting wrongly,[3]
and he who persists in
taking part when his superiors do not use him is spoiling his
integrity. If his conduct is wrong and his integrity spoiled, and
even so he does not desist, it is because he is deluded by profit."
Tzŭ-kung said, "I have heard that one who finds fault with the
time should not make his living on profit derived therefrom, and
one who thinks his prince is impure should not walk in his territory.[4]
[Now you, sir, thinking your prince impure, still walk in his
territory],[5]
and finding fault with the times, you still gather vegetables
produced therein. The Ode says.[6]
Under the wide heaven,
All is the king's land.
Whose are these?"
[7]
Pao Chiao said, "Alas, I have heard that the sage is reluctant
to take office but quick to withdraw, and that the scrupulous man
is easily ashamed but thinks lightly of dying." Whereupon, casting
away his vegetables, he forthwith stiffened in death on the
bank of the Lo River.[8]
When the superior man hears of this he says, "He was scrupulous
indeed and unyielding."
Now "if a mountain is [merely] a pinnacle, it cannot be high,
and if the water flows straight, it cannot be deep"; if one's conduct
is scrupulous, its efficacy is not great. One who aspires to
rank with Heaven and Earth—that person's case is not auspicious.[9]
It may be said of Pao Chiao's case that it was inauspicious. His
limitations and endowments were just enough to bring him to this
[end].[10]
The Ode says,[11]
So it is!
Heaven has done it;—
What then shall I say?
Formerly when the [Kingly] Way of the Chou was flourishing,
the Chief of Shao was at court. The officials asked permission to
summon the people of Shao.[2]
The Chief of Shao said, "Alas, for
me alone to put the people to toil—this was not the intention of
our former ruler, King Wên."
Whereupon he came out and betook himself to the people,
hearing cases and giving out judgments between the paths and
dikes of the fields.[3]
The Chief of Shao made his dwelling under
a tree in an exposed place in far-off fields, and the people greatly
rejoiced. The tillers of the fields and those who tended the silkworms
doubled their strength to encourage him. Whereupon the
harvest was great, so that the people had enough and each family
had plenty.
Later on there were arrogant, extravagant officials in power who
did not sympathize with the masses. Taxes and levies became
frequent and numerous. The people were in distress. The seasons
for plowing and caring for the silkworms were missed. At that
time a poet saw the tree under which the Chief of Shao used to
rest and sang in his praise, as the Ode says,[4]
[This] umbrageous[5]
sweet pear tree;—
Clip[6]
it not, hew it not down.
Under it the Chief of Shao rested.
This is illustrated above.