University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER VII

1[1]

King Hsüan of Ch`i said to T`ien Kuo, "I have heard that
Confucians mourn three years for their parents, [and three years
for a ruler].[2] Now which is the more important, a father or a
ruler?"

[T`ien Kuo] replied, "Without a ruler's lands there is no place
to settle one's parents; without a ruler's pay there is no means of
supporting one's parents; without rank [conferred] by a ruler
there is no way of making one's parents respected and illustrious.
What is received from the ruler is passed on to the parents. So
serving a ruler is also something always done on behalf of one's
parents."[3] King Hsüan was taken aback and had nothing to
answer him.

The Ode says,[4]

2[1]

The King of Chao was [on the point of] sending an envoy to
Ch`u. He played [for a while] on the cither, and then dispatched
him saying, "Be careful not to forget the words [of my message]."[2]

The envoy received the order kneeling and said without rising,

"Never have I heard Your Majesty play such moving [music]
on the cither as today."

The king said, "[It is true. The cither is certainly well] tuned."[3]

The envoy said, "Since it is in tune, it would be a good thing
to make a note of [the position of] the bridge."

The king said, "It will not do. As the weather is dry or wet,
so the strings are loose or tight. The bridge [must] be adjustable,[4] and cannot be marked [for a given position]."

The envoy said, "May I borrow a metaphor from this?[5] Ch`u
is more than a thousand li distant from Chao. Furthermore
fortune is variable. Bad luck calls for condolences, and good luck
for congratulation. It is like the bridge [of a cither] which must
be adjustable and cannot be marked [for a given position]. So
when a ruler sends an envoy, he should hold him to the mission
he is sent on and not charge him with [specific] words."[6]

The Ode says,[7]

It is lamenting that subordinates are controlled from above.

3[1]

In Ch`i were [two] retired gentlemen, Master Tung-kuo and
Master Liang Shih.[2] At the time when Minister of State Ts`ao
was minister of Ch`i, a retainer said to Master K`uei,[3] "Master
Tung-kuo and Master Liang Shih are the worthy men of the times.
They have secreted themselves in the depths of the mountains
and will not bend their bodies or degrade their wills to seek office.
I hear that you have access to Minister of State Ts`ao. I wish
you might recommend them. Now in my village the matrons are
on good terms with one another.[4] A girl was suspected of stealing
meat, and her mother-in-law drove her out. Indignant, the girl
told a village matron, who said, `Go slowly,[5] and presently I will
have your mother-in-law call you [back],' and tying up a bunch of
grass, she [went to] ask for a light from the family that had driven
the girl out. She said, `My dogs were fighting over a piece of
meat and killed each other. May I have a light so that I can
cook[6] them?' Whereupon the mother-in-law immediately sent
a man after the girl she had driven out to bring her back. Now a
village matron is not a gentleman skilled in speech, nor is tying
up a bunch of grass and asking for a light the way to bring a
woman back home, but there are things that touch off the proper

response and situations which can be properly dealt with. Will
you not recommend them?"

Master K`uei said, "I am afraid I can not come up to it, but
I will try my best to tie up a bunch of grass and ask for a light
on behalf of Master Tung-kuo and Master Liang Shih." After
this he had an interview with Minister of State Ts`ao and said,
"In my village there was a woman who married [again] three
days after her husband's death. There was another who all her
life long never [re-]married. Now if you were going to marry,
which [kind of woman] would you take for a wife?"

The Minister of State said, "Of course I would marry only the
one who to the end of her life would never [re-]marry."

Master K`uei said, "In Ch`i are the retired gentlemen, Master
Tung-kuo and Master Liang Shih. They are the worthy gentlemen
of the times, secreting themselves in the depths of the
mountains and not bending their bodies or degrading their wills
to seek office. If Your Honor in choosing a wife would want to
marry one who would not [re-]marry, are you going to make an
exception in choosing a minister by not taking one who will not
serve [another master]?"

Whereupon Minister of State Ts`ao through the good offices
of Master K`uei sent a "comfort chariot" with rolls of silk to
fetch Master Tung-kuo and Master Liang Shih and treated them
as guests of honor. The Ode says,[7]

4[1]

Confucius said, "Of old, when he served King Wên, the Duke
of Chou had nothing arbitrary about his conduct and nothing
self-willed about the affairs he managed. It was as though his
body could not bear [the weight of] his clothes, or his mouth could
not utter words, [so difFIDent he was]. When he respectfully

received anything direct from [King Wên], he was cautious as
though [he feared] he would drop it. It can be said that he was
[able to act like] a son.[2] When King Wu died, King Ch`êng being
young, the Duke of Chou took over the work of [Kings] Wên and
Wu. He occupied the place of the Son of Heaven[3] and controlled
the government of the empire,[4] took measures against the disturbances
among the barbarians and punished [the Princes of]
Kuan and Ts`ai for their crimes.[5] Holding King Ch`êng in his
arms, he received homage from the feudal lords. Concerning
punishments and rewards, laws and judgments, he never consulted
[the young king]. His prestige shook Heaven and Earth, his
gestures terrified the empire. It can be said that he was able to be
martial. When King Ch`êng gained his majority, the Duke of
Chou turned the rule over to him, and, facing north, served him.
He asked permission before acting and never had the air of
boasting. It can be said that he was able to be a subject.[6] Truly
one capable of three transformations in his own person is able
to adapt himself to changing times." The Ode says,[7]

5

There is a saying: "Birds fear birds with fine wings and curved
beaks;[1] fish fear fish with large mouths and pendant fat;[2] men

fear men with sharp mouths[3] and facile speech."[4] For this
reason the superior man avoids the three points: he avoids the
brush-point of the literary man; he avoids the spear-point of the
military man; he avoids the tongue-point of the sophist.

The Ode says,[5]

6[1]

Confucius [and his disciples] were in distress between Ch`ên
and Ts`ai.[2] They spent seven days without food sitting on the
"Three Classics mat."[3] They had li soup but no rice,[4] and the
disciples had a hungry look. They read the Shu and practiced
rites (li) and music without stopping.[5] Tzŭ-lu offered an objection:
"Heaven rewards with good fortune those who practice
good and requites with disaster[6] those who practice evil. Now
you, Master, have long accumulated virtue, piled up jên, and
practiced good. I suppose there is still some defect in your conduct?[7]
Otherwise why do you live in obscurity?"[8]

Confucius said, "Come, Yu. You are a mean man, without any
understanding of principles. Be still while I tell you. Do you
think that the wise are never punished? Then how was it the
Prince Pi-kan had his heart cut out and died? Do you think the
just are [always] hearkened to? Then how was it Wu Tzŭ-hsü
had his eyes torn out and hung from the eastern gate of [the
capital of] Wu?[9] Do you think the scrupulous are [always]
employed? Then how was it Po-i and Shu-ch`i starved on Mt.
Shou-yang? Do you think the sincere are [always] employed?
Then how was it that Pao Shu was not employed, or that Tzŭ-kao,
Duke of Shê, never took office?[10] Pao Chiao embraced a tree and
wept; [Chieh] Tzŭ-t`ui climbed a hill and was burned to death.
Many superior men of wide learning and subtle plans have not
met with the right time; I am certainly not the only exception.
A man's ability depends on natural endowment; his success or
failure is a matter of opportunity.[11] Now without opportunity,
what use is there for a man of worth? That Shun of Yü was set
up as Son of Heaven from having plowed a field on the north
slope of Mt. Li was due to his meeting Yao. That Fu Yüeh was
made a Great Officer from having carried dirt and worked with
building frames[12] was due to his meeting Wu-ting. Originally
I-yin was a servant in the Hsin family, carrying the tripods,
holding the sacrificial stand, and blending the five flavors.[13] That
he was set up as minister was due to his meeting T`ang. When
Lü Wang was fifty he sold food in Chi-chin, and at seventy he

was a butcher in Ch`ao-ko; at ninety he was Teacher to the Son of
Heaven—this because he met King Wên. Kuan I-wu was bound
and kept with sealed-up eyes in a barred cart.[14] That he became
Chung-fu was because he met Duke Huan of Ch`i. Po-li Hsi sold
himself for five rams' skins to the Po family of Ch`in and herded
cattle. That he was raised to the rank of Great Officer was because
he met Duke Mu of Ch`in. That Yü-ch`iu [was famous] in the
empire[15] for yielding his position as Prime Minister to Sun-shu
Ao was because he met King Chuang of Ch`u. Wu Tzŭ-hsü at
first had considerable merit. Later on he was put to death by
decapitation. It was not because his understanding had decreased,
but because he first met Ho-lü and later met Fu-ch`ai. Now that
a thoroughbred horse is put to work on the salt carts[16] is not
because he has not the appearance [of a thououghbred], but because
no one recognizes him as such. If a thoroughbred horse
does not get his Po-lo, how can he achieve a thousand-li run, and
how could Tsao-fu in his turn manage to drive a thousand-li?
If there is no one to see the lan-ch`ih plant growing in a dense
forest in the depths of the mountains, it will not be the less
fragrant.[17] So the purpose of study is not to achieve success, but
[to enable one] to be in straits and not be distressed, and to keep
the determination from failing in times of difficulty. First understand
the beginnings of disaster and good fortune, and your
mind will be without illusions. For this reason the sages lived in
retirement and reflected profoundly; they were unique in their
apprehension and insight.[18] Now Shun was certainly a sage and
a saint, but that he faced south and ruled the empire was solely
due to his meeting with Yao. If Shun had lived in the times of
Chou or Chieh, he would have been well off to escape punishment
or execution; there would have been no question of his holding
office. Chieh put Kuan Lung-fêng to death, and Chou put the
Prince Pi-kan to death. On those occasions did Kuan Lung-fêng
lack understanding? Did the Prince Pi-kan lack wisdom? In
both cases it was a matter of not meeting with the right time.
So the superior man devotes himself to study. He rectifies himself
and orders his conduct, waiting for the right time. May you
not be confused about this."

The Ode says,[19]

7

Tsêng-tzŭ said, "When they are gone, there is no recalling
them—such are our parents.[1] When they have reached their
limit there is no adding to them—such are the years [of their
lives]. This is why,[2] though the filial son may wish to go on
supporting them, his parents can not tarry [forever];[3] and though
a tree may wish [to remain] straight, the seasons do not give it a
chance.[4] Thus to slaughter an ox as a sacrifice at their grave is
not so good as bringing chickens and pigs to parents while they
are still alive. That is why I was only too glad to serve as an
officer in Ch`i with a salary of only a chung[5] and a fu [of grain];
not because I thought it much, but I was happy that I could get
it to my parents. After their death I once went south to Ch`u,
where I got an honorable position, with a hall nine jên high that

had projecting beams three wei in circumference.[6] I had a hundred
carts bringing me gifts, but still I looked to the north and wept.
Not that I thought [my treatment] too mean, but I was grieved
that I could not get it to my parents.[7] So one whose family is
poor and whose parents are old is not particular about the office
he will fill.[8] One who, for the sake of his ambition, stints his
parents is not filial."

The Ode says,[9]

8[1]

Chao Chien-tzŭ had a minister named Chou Shê, who stood
outside his gate for three days and three nights. Chien-tzŭ sent
a messanger to ask, "On what business do you wish an interview?"

Chou Shê replied, "I would like to be your outspoken minister.[2]
With inked brush[3] and tablet in hand I would follow after [Your
Highness, looking out for] your faults and [writing them down,[4]

so that] each day there will be a record, each month an achievement,
and each year good results."[5]

Where Chien-tzŭ stayed, [Chou Shê] stayed there with him,
and when [Chien-tzŭ] went out, he went out with him. After a
little while Chou Shê died, and Chien-tzŭ mourned for him as if
he had been his own son. Later he was drinking with the Great
Officers in the Hung-po Terrace. When he was drunk on the wine,
Chien-tzŭ began to weep, and the Great Officers all went out[6]
saying, "We are at fault without knowing ourselves [wherein we
have offended]."

Chien-tzŭ said, "You Great Officers are not at fault.[7] My
friend[8] Chou Shê used to say, `A thousand sheepskins are not
worth the fur under one fox's forelegs, and the servile assent of
the multitude is not worth the outspoken works of one gentleman.'[9]
Of old Chou of the Shang was lost through silence, while
King Wu prospered through frankness [on the part of their
ministers]. Now after Chou Shê's death I never hear of my faults,
and it will not be long before I am lost. This is why I wept."

9[1]

Tradition has it that[2] Duke Ching of Ch`i asked Yen-tzŭ about
the worries of governing a state.[3] Yen-tzŭ replied, "What one
worries about are `altar rats.' "

Duke Ching said, "What do you mean by altar rats?"

Yen-tzŭ said, "Altar rats steal things outside and then go

inside the altar for protection.[4] You would drown them out, but
you fear damaging the [mud] wall. You would burn them out,
but you fear setting the wood on fire. This is the worry of rats.
Now as to Your Highness' officers, outside they sell you for profit,[5]
and inside they depend on Your Highness not to punish them for
throwing the laws into disorder.[6] Your Highness moreover both
protects and supports them.[7] This is the worry of altar rats."

Duke Ching said, "Alas! How can this be?"[8]

"A man sold wine of very fine quality, and put out a long
advertisement, but the wine soured before he had sold any. He
asked the villagers why [they had not bought his wine], and one of
them said, `Your dog is very fierce, and every time anyone comes
with a container wanting [to buy wine], the dog comes out and
bites him.' This is why the wine had soured before he had sold
any. If, when a gentleman wishes to communicate with the ruler
of [a state of] ten thousand chariots, the functionaries come out
and bite him, they too are the bad[9] dogs of a state. Officers
that are `altar rats' and functionaries that are `bad dogs'—
these are the great worries of a state."

The Ode says,[10]

It says that those in the court are all mean men.

10[1]

Of old the Ssŭ-ch`êng[2] Tzŭ-han was minister to [the ruler of]
Sung.[3] He said to the Prince of Sung, "Now the peace of a state
and the governance of its people depend on the conduct of the
ruler. Titles and rewards[4] are what people like. May Your
Highness take charge of them. Executions and punishments are
what the people hate. Let me be responsible for them."

The Prince said, "Agreed. I will get their approval and you
will receive their hatred. I am convinced that I will not be the
laughing-stock of the feudal lords."

When the people of the state knew that the punishments of
death and decapitation were entirely in the hands of Tzŭ-han,
the great ministers were friendly with him and the common people
feared him. Before the year was out, Tzŭ-han had driven out the
Prince of Sung and taken over the government himself. Just as
Lao-tzŭ says,[5]

The Ode says,[6]

11[1]

In the time of Duke I of Wei there was a minister named Hung
Yin,[2] who received the order to go on a mission [to another state].
Before his return, the Ti barbarians attacked Wei.[3] Duke I wished
to raise an army to meet them, but his people with one accord
said, "What Your Highness values and what have [high] salaries
and rank are cranes. What you love are your concubines. Go
have your cranes and concubines fight. How can we fight?" And
they all scattered and fled. The Ti barbarians arrived and
attacked Duke I at Jung-tsê.[4] They killed him and completely ate
the flesh [of his body], leaving only his liver. When Hung Yin
got there, he reported on his mission to the liver. When he had
finished speaking, he cried out to Heaven and wept. When his
mourning was over, he said, "As minister all I may properly do
is die." And he then actually cut himself open and, pulling out
his intestines, put Duke I's liver inside and died.

When Duke Huan heard of this he said, "Wei was destroyed
because it had not the proper Way. But with a minister like this,
it cannot but be preserved." Whereupon he re-established Wei
in Ch`u-ch`iu.

One like Hung Yin can be called a loyal officer. He killed
himself so as to follow his prince, and not only did he succeed
in following his prince, he also caused the ancestral temple of
Wei to be re-established and kept the sacrifices from being broken
off. He can be said to have had great merit.

The Ode says,[5]

12[1]

Sun-shu Ao met an old man of Hu-ch`iu who said, "I have
heard that as there are three advantages there must be three
worries. Do you know about this?"

Sun-shu Ao uneasily changed countenance and said, "I am not
intelligent; how could I know about it? I venture to ask what is
meant by the three advantages and by the three worries?"

The old man of Hu-ch`iu said, "If your rank is high, others
will envy you. If your office is a big one, your ruler will dislike
you. If your salary is large, resentment will be your lot. This is
the meaning."

Sun-shu Ao said, "Not necessarily. The higher the rank the
more humble the ambitions; the greater the office the smaller
the desire; the larger the salary the more widespread the gifts—
would this not permit one to escape the three worries?"

The old man of Hu-ch`iu said, "Well said! Even Yao and Shun
would not have found fault with such conduct."[2]

The Ode says,[3]

13[1]

Confucius said, "There are three things the enlightened ruler
fears: The first is that occupying a position of honor he fears
he will not hear of his faults; the second is that being successful
he fears he will be overconFIDent; the third is that hearing of the
Supreme Way [for governing] the empire he will be unable to
put it into practice."

Of old King Kou-chien of Yüeh fought with and greatly defeated
Wu, and conquered the southern I. At that time, as he sat facing
south with three ministers near at hand and five in distant places,
he issued the following command to the Great Officers: "Those
hearing of [my] faults who fail to tell me, will suffer capital
punishment." This is an example of one's occupying a position of
honor and fearing he will not hear of his faults.

Of old Duke Wên of Chin fought with and overwhelmingly
conquered Ch`u, burning their camp[2] so that the fire lasted three
days. Duke Wên drew back with an expression of anxiety, and
his attendants asked, "Your Highness has overwhelmingly conquered
Ch`u, and [now] you have an expression of anxiety. Why
is this?" Duke Wên said, "I have heard that only a Saint can
rest secure after victory in battle, while those who conquer through
deceit are without exception in a perilous situation. This is why I
am anxious." This is an example of one who has been successful
and who fears being overconFIDent.

Of old Duke Huan of Ch`i got [as ministers] Kuan Chung and
Hsi P`êng[3] and sat facing south. Duke Huan said, "Since getting
you two, my sight is the keener and my hearing the sharper. I
dare not act alone." And he introduced them to his ancestors.
This is an example of one hearing of the Supreme Way and being
afraid he will be unable to put it into practice. Viewed in the
light of Duke Huan, [Duke] Wên of Chin, and King Kou-chien of
Yüeh, these three fears are the concern of the enlightened prince.

The Ode says,[4]

This speaks of the great king[6] who occupies a position above other
men.

14[1]

King Chuang of Ch`u gave a drinking party to his ministers.
By evening they were tipsy, while the attendants were all drunk.
The lamp in the hall went out and someone tugged at the clothing
of the queen, who, [reaching out in the dark], brushed the person's
cap tassel and broke it off. She called out to the king, "Just
now when the lights went out someone tugged at my clothing,
and I brushed against his [cap] tassel and broke it off. I wish
you would quickly make a light to see who has a broken tassel."

The king said, "Stop!" He immediately issued the order, "I
will not be pleased with those drinking with me who have not
broken tassels."[2] As a result there were no unbroken cap tassels,
and it was not known who had his cap tassel broken by the queen.
After that the king went on as before, pleasantly drinking with
his ministers.

Later Wu[3] raised an army and attacked Ch`u. There was one
man constantly in the van.[4] In five encounters[5] he five times
overthrew their ranks and put the enemy to flight. Then he took

the leader of the main force [prisoner] and presented him. The
king was astonished and asked, "I have never distinguished you
[particularly]; how is it you are so generous to me?"

He replied, "I was the one in the hall with the broken tassel.
For a long time[6] I have deserved to have liver and gall smeared
on the earth for [what I did] that day. There has never been an
occasion for fulfilling [my obligation] until today when I was
fortunate enough to be employed as befits a subject and could
then defeat Wu and strengthen Ch`u for Your Majesty."

The Ode says,[7]

It says the great are not without their marks [of greatness].

15

Tradition tells us that Po-ch`i was filial and yet was abandoned
by his parents. Duke Yin was king, and yet was slain by his
younger brother. Shu-wu was a sage, and yet was killed by his
elder brother. Pi-kan was loyal, and yet was put to death by his
prince. The Ode says,[1]

16[1]

When [the tyrant] Chou killed the prince Pi-kan,[2] Chi-tzŭ let
his hair down his back and feigned madness. When Duke Ling of
Ch`ên killed Hsieh Yeh,[2] Têng Yüan left Ch`ên with his family.

After these events, Yin was conquered by Chou, and Ch`ên was
destroyed by Ch`u, because they had killed Pi-kan and Hsieh Yeh,
and had lost Chi-tzŭ and Têng Yüan. King Chao of Yen got Kuo
Wei; Tsou Yen and Yo I came from Wei and Ch`i. Thereupon
he raised an army and attacked Ch`i, detaining King Min in Chü.[3]
In territory and population Yen[4] was no match for Ch`i. But what
enabled Yen to expand to this extent was reliance on gentlemen.
Truly,[5] there is no state always static, nor a people [always] ready
to be ruled. If it gets a sage, [the state] will be prosperous; if it
loses a sage, it will perish: from antiquity to the present time this
has been always the case. Now a bright mirror is the means of
reflecting the form, and the past is the means of knowing the
present. For to know enough to detest that whereby ancient
[dynasties] fell, but not to follow the methods by which they preserved
themselves, is no different from seeking to catch up with
the man ahead of you by walking backwards. T`ai-kung knew
it and so gave office to the successors of Wei-tzŭ and built a
mound over the tomb of Pi-kan. Now when saintly men act in
so generous a manner toward even the descendants of sages, how
much the more [generous] they must be toward [sages] still living
in their time.

The Ode says,[6]

17[1]

Sung Yü through a friend was introduced to King Hsiang of
Ch`u, who treated him with no special distinction. He complained
to his friend, who said,[2] "Ginger and cinnamon grow from the
earth, but their acrid flavor does not come from the earth. A
woman marries through a go-between, but she does not establish
intimacy [with her husband] through a go-between. You simply
did not serve the king satisfactorily. Why blame me?"

Sung Yü said, "Not so. Of old Ch`i had a trained rabbit which
in the course of a day could run five hundred li. If you sight him
from afar, point him out, and set [a dog on him],[3] even a good dog
will be unable to reach the dust of the trained rabbit. If you put
[the dog] on the trail[4] and take off the leash, [not even the trained
rabbit will be able to get away. Now your connection with me—
has it been a matter of putting me on the trail and taking off
the leash?][5] Or has it been sighting from afar, pointing him out,
and setting me on him?"

The Ode says,[6]

18[1]

Sung Yen had been minister of Ch`i and, on his dismissal,
returned home and summoned the Mên-wei Ch`ên Jao[2] and others
to the number of twenty-six men. He said, "Are there any of you
Great Officers who would be able to make the rounds of the feudal
lords with me?" Ch`ên Jao and the others all prostrated themselves
without answering. Sung Yen said, "Alas, how easy it is
to get gentlemen and Great Officers, and how difficult to get any
use from them!"

Jao said, "[It is not that they are easy to get and hard to get
any use from;] it is because you are unable to make use of them.
To be dissatisfied [because you are unable to make use of them][3]
is missing it in yourself and putting the blame on others."

Sung Yen said, "Missing it in myself and putting the blame
on others—how it that?"

Ch`ên Jao said, "The three tou[4] of millet [which you give
them for salary] is not enough for a gentleman, but your geese
and ducks have grain to spare. This is Your Excellency's first
fault. The women of the inner palace pick up the pears and
chestnuts of your orchards and throw them at one another, while
your officers never get a taste. This is Your Excellency's second
fault. Thin silk and white silk, open-work silk and gauze silk are

abundant in a hall where wind and rain[5] come and spoil them,
while your officers never receive a [single] piece as a gift. This
is Your Excellency's third fault. So property is something Your
Excellency holds lightly, while death is something your officers
consider important. Being unable to give what you hold lightly
and [still] expecting your officers to yield what they consider
important is comparable to[6] treating them like leaden swords and
trying to use them as Kan-chiang blades[7] —is it not indeed a
difficult thing?"

Sung Yen's face was suffused with shame and he retired in
confusion from the mat saying, "It was my fault."

The Ode says,[8]

19

There is a saying, "One good at government acts in accord
with human emotion and human nature and follows the sequence
of yin and yang; he understands the principle of basic and subsidiary
and brings together the spheres of Heaven and man." Under
such conditions the Heavenly breadth is nourished, and living
things are abundant.

One who does not understand government lets emotions override
human nature, and allows yin to surpass yang. He makes the
subsidiary go against the basic and causes man to cheat Heaven.
His breath being exhausted cannot be prolonged; he is depressed
and cannot give vent to his feelings. Under such conditions disasters
occur and monstrosities appear. All living things suffer
and the year's grain crops do not ripen. Thus it is that if he acts,
his power is vitiated, and if he remains quiet, he loses [any chance
of] succor. Hence he devotes himself to what is not pressing,
not recognizing what is urgent. He daily offends against right
principles, and still he hopes in that way to govern.

The Ode says,[1]

20[1]

In the time of Marquis Wên of Wei, Tzŭ-chih was in office and
got into trouble. After leaving he traveled north, where he said
to [Chao] Chien-chu,[2] "From now on I will not again plant virtue
in anyone."

Chien-chu said, "What do you mean by that?"

[Tzŭ-]chih said, "Of the officers in the hall I planted the half;
of the Great Officers in the court I planted the half; of the officials
on the frontier I likewise planted the half. Now the officers in
the hall [got me hated by my prince; the Great Officers in the
court] threatened me with the law,[3] and the officials on the frontier
attacked me with troops; this is why I will not again[4] plant virtue
in men."

Chien-chu said, "Ha, what you say is wrong. If you plant
peach and pear trees in the spring, in summer you will have shade
beneath them and in autumn you will be able to eat their fruit.
If you plant caltrop in the spring, in summer you will not be able
to gather its leaves, and in autumn you get thorns from it. If
you look at it this way, it depends on what you plant. Now those
you planted were not the right men. Truly, the superior man first
makes a selection before he plants the seed."

The Ode says,[5]

21[1]

The correct and upright act in accordance with the True Way
and speak in accordance with right principles. They are just and
unselfish, not relaxing their determination for the sake of peace
or altering[2] their conduct to escape danger.

Of old Duke Hsien of Wei fled his country. [Later] he returned
to Wei and had reached the suburbs of the capital, where he was
about to distribute fiefs before entering the city to those who
had accompanied him [into exile]. The T`ai-shih Liu Chuang said,
"If everyone had [stayed behind] to look after the altars to earth
and grain, then who would there have been to serve you in your
exile?[3] And if everyone had followed you, then who would have
looked after the altars to earth and grain? Is it right that Your
Highness should be partial on being restored to your state?"
Whereupon [Duke Hsien] did not distribute [fiefs]. Liu Chuang
was correct.

Of old when the Recorder Yü,[4] a Great Officer of Wei, was
sick and on the point of death, he said to his son, "I have frequently
spoken of Ch`ü Po-yü's[5] worth without being able to get
him advanced, and of the unworthiness of Mi Tzŭ-hsia without
being able to get him retired. Now if during his life a minister is
unable to advance the worthy and retire the unworthy, it is not
fitting that mourning should be conducted for him in the main hall
after his death. It is enough to bury me in a [secondary][6] hall."

When the Prince of Wei [came to offer condolences][7] and asked
why [the burial had been so conducted], the son reported his
father's words. The prince quickly summoned Ch`ü Po-yü and
granted him honors, and retired Mi Tzŭ-hsia. Before he left he had
the [place of] burial moved to the main hall with full rites. To
remonstrate in person during life and to remonstrate through the
corpse in death—[such conduct] may be termed upright.

The Ode says,[8]

22[1]

Confucius was at leisure, with Tzŭ-king sitting by his side.
[Tzŭ-kung] asked the way to be below others.[2] Confucius said,
"An excellent question! Being below others—is it not like the
earth?" Tzŭ-kung did not understand. Confucius said, "As for
the earth, if you dig it you get a spring of sweet water; if you
plant it you get the five cereals. Plants grow in it; birds and
beasts, fish and turtles live out their lives on it.[3] Alive we stand
on it, and dead we are put into it. It has numerous merits but it
does not speak of them,[4] but hands them on to [successive]
generations[5] without intermission. Hence I said, Only the earth
is capable of being lowly."

Tzŭ-kung said, "Though I am not intelligent, I hope to act
on these words."

The Ode says,[6]

23[1]

There is a story about Nan Chia-tzŭ's visit to Ch`êng Pên[-tzŭ],[2]
who boiled a li fish for him. Nan Chia-tzŭ said, "I have heard
that the superior man does not eat li fish."

Pên-tzŭ said, "This is a superior man's food, all right; but what
has that to do with us?"

Chia-tzŭ said, "By aiming at what is high, one enlarges his
virtue; by aiming at what is low, one hampers his conduct. By
aiming at what is good one is brought forward a step, and by
aiming at what is bad one falls back to the starting point. And
does not the Ode say,[3]

How could I be aiming to be a superior man? It is only that I
admire him in my mind."

24[1]

Tzŭ-kung asked about great ministers. The Master said, "Ch`i
had Pao Shu and Chêng had Tzŭ-p`i."

Tzŭ-kung said, "Did not Ch`i have Kuan Chung and Chêng
have Tzŭ-ch`an of Tung-li?"

Confucius said, "[Kuan Chung was recommended by Pao Shu,
and Tzŭ-]ch`an was recommended [by Tzŭ-p`i]."[2]

Tzŭ-kung said, "In that case it is more worthy to recommend
a sage than to be a sage."

"To recognize a sage is to be wise, to advance a sage is to
be jên, to introduce a sage is to be i. Who is greater than one
possessed of these three qualities?"

25[1]

Confucius was wandering on top of Mt. Ching.[2] Tzŭ-lu, Tzŭ-kung,
and Yen Yüan accompanied him. Confucius said, "The
superior man, when he climbs to a height, must express himself.[3]
My little children, speak out your desires, whatever they may be.
I am going to instruct you."

Tzŭ-lu said, "I wish I might brandish a long lance and oppose
the three armies, with a nursing tiger[4] behind me and my enemies
in front. Like a li insect I would leap, like a dragon I would rush[5]
as I advanced to rescue two states from grief."

Confucius said, "A brave soldier!"

Tzŭ-kung said, "Say two countries are involved in trouble.
Stout men form ranks, and the dust [of battle] rises to heaven.
Then I, without grasping a weapon [so much as] a foot long or
[possessing a single] measure of grain, will smooth away the trouble
between the two states. The one that employs me will be preserved,
and the one that does not employ me will be lost."

Confucius said, "A sophist!"

Yen Hui had no wish. Confucius said, "Why don't you make
a wish?"

Yen Yüan said, "Since the other two have [expressed] their
wishes, I dare not."

Confucius said, "Their ideas were not the same, and each
invented a situation [to illustrate his ambition]. May you make
a wish. I am going to instruct you."

Yen Yüan said, "I wish I might be minister in a small state.
The ruler would govern by the True Way, and his subjects would
be reformed by his transforming virtue. Prince and subjects
would be of one mind, and those inside and those outside [the
court] would respond to one another. Of the various states and
the feudal lords, none but would fall in line with i and be subject
to [my] influence. The able-bodied would rush to come forward,
and the old would come leaning on their staves. My teachings
would take effect among the people and my transforming virtue
would pass to the four barbarians. Everyone would give up his
weapons and assemble inside the four gates [of my capital]. In
the world everywhere enduring peace would prevail. Flying or
crawling,[6] each [creature] would rejoice in his own nature. I would
advance the worthy and employ the able, each to be in charge
of the office suited to himself. Then the prince above would be
tranquil and his subjects below would be in harmony. I would let
[my robes] fall, fold my hands,[7] and practice noninterference.
What was done would coincide with the True Way, naturally and
easily adhering to li.[8] Those who spoke of jên and i I would
reward, and those who spoke of war and strife I would put to
death. So what occasion would Yu have for `advancing and
rescuing'? What difficulties would T`zŭ have to smooth away?"

Confucius said, "A saint! When a great man appears, mean
men hide away, and when a saint arises, sages fall prostrate. In
a government with Hui, how would you, Yu and Tz`ŭ, have a
chance to show your abilities?"

The Ode says,[9]

26[1]

Of old Confucius was playing the cither. Tsêng-tzŭ and Tzŭ-kung
were listening beside the door. When the piece was finished
Tsêng-tzŭ said, "Ah, the sound of the Master's cither had something
in it of the desire of a ravenous wolf, of depraved actions.
How lacking it was in human feeling (jên)! It was avaricious to
a degree."

Tzŭ-kung thought the same, and went inside without replying.
Confucius saw as he came in that he had the appearance of one
who objects to a transgression and the bearing of one going to
raise a difficulty. He laid aside the cither and waited for him [to
speak]. Tzŭ-kung reported Tsêng-tzŭ's words, and the Master
said,

"Ah, Ts`ên is the sage of the empire. He is an adept at `understanding
music.'[2] Just now as I was playing the cither a rat came
out [of his hole] and ran about. A wildcat appeared in the room
and, creeping along a pillar, approached [the rat], who took flight.
His eyes [filled with] hatred and his back arched, [the wildcat]
strove to catch him, but failed. With the cither I followed the
current of their passions.[3] Was it not with perfect justice Ts`ên
thought I was a ravenous wolf and depraved?"

The Ode says,[4]

27

To practice the art of being a father, one must embrace a
tender and benevolent (jên) love with which to rear a son. One

quiets him with food and drink, so that his body may be perfect.
When he begins to have understanding, [the father] must maintain
a stern demeanor and speak correctly to lead him forward. When
it is time to tie up his hair,[1] [the father] provides him with an
intelligent teacher to perfect his abilities. At nineteen he shows
his ambitions, and [his father] invites a guest to cap him.[2] This
serves to complete his virtue.[3] His blood is pure and his pulse
steady, and so [his father] betroths him so as to keep it that way.
The relations [between father and son] are characterized by
honesty and friendliness, with no trace of suspicion. After the
son is capped, [his father] does not curse[4] him, nor does he beat
him after his hair is bound up. He listens to [his son's] subtle
reproach and does not let him worry. Such is the art of being a
father.

The Ode says,[5]