A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy

by Wing-Tsit Chan

  If it did resemble, it would have been small for a long time.

  I have three treasures. Guard and keep them:

  The first is deep love,

  The second is frugality,

  And the third is not to dare to be ahead of the world.

  Because of deep love, one is courageous.

  Because of frugality, one is generous.

  Because of not daring to be ahead of the world, one becomes the leader of the world.

  Now, to be courageous by forsaking deep love,

  To be generous by forsaking frugality,

  And to be ahead of the world by forsaking following

  behind—

  This is fatal.

  For deep love helps one to win in the case of attack,

  And to be firm in the case of defense.

  When Heaven is to save a person,

  Heaven will protect him through deep love.

  68. A skillful leader of troops is not oppressive with his military strength.125

  A skillful fighter does not become angry.

  A skillful conqueror does not compete with people.

  One who is skillful in using men puts himself below them.

  This is called the virtue of not-competing.

  This is called the strength to use men.

  This is called matching Heaven, the highest principle of old.126

  69. The strategists say:

  “I dare not take the offensive but I take the defensive;

  I dare not advance an inch but I retreat a foot.”

  This means:

  To march without formation,

  To stretch one’s arm without showing it,

  To confront enemies without seeming to meet them,

  To hold weapons without seeming to have them.

  There is no greater disaster than to make light of the enemy.

  Making light of the enemy will destroy my treasures.127

  Therefore when armies are mobilized and issues joined,

  The man who is sorry128 over the fact will win.

  70. My doctrines are very easy to understand and very easy to practice,

  But none in the world can understand or practice them.

  My doctrines have a source (Nature); my deeds have a master (Tao).

  It is because people do not understand this that they do not understand me.

  Few people know me, and therefore I am highly valued.

  Therefore the sage wears a coarse cloth on top and carries jade within his bosom.

  71. To know that you do not know is the best.129

  To pretend to know when you do not know is a disease.

  Only when one recognizes this disease as a disease can one be free from the disease.

  The sage is free from the disease.

  Because he recognizes this disease to be disease, he is free from it.

  Comment. Note the similarity with the Confucian teaching: say that you know when you do know and say that you do not know when you do not know.130

  72. When the people do not fear of what is dreadful,131

  Then what is greatly dreadful will descend on them.

  Do not reduce the living space of their dwellings.

  Do not oppress their lives.

  It is because you do not oppress them that they are not oppressed.

  Therefore the sage knows himself but does not show himself.

  He loves himself but does not exalt himself.

  Therefore he rejects the one but accepts the other.

  73. He who is brave in daring will be killed.

  He who is brave in not daring will live.

  Of these two, one is advantageous and one is harmful.

  Who knows why Heaven dislikes what it dislikes?

  Even the sage considers it a difficult question.

  The Way of Heaven does not compete, and yet it skillfully achieves victory.

  It does not speak, and yet it skillfully responds to things.

  It comes to you without your invitation.

  It is not anxious about things and yet it plans well.

  Heaven’s net is indeed vast.

  Though its meshes are wide, it misses nothing.

  Comment. The analogy of Heaven’s net has strongly strengthened the Chinese belief in retribution and formed the basis of popular Taoist religious treatises such as the T’ai-shang kan-ying p’ien (Tract of Influence and Responses of the Most Exalted One).

  74. The people are not afraid of death.

  Why, then, threaten them with death?

  Suppose the people are always afraid of death and we can seize those who are vicious and kill them,

  Who would dare to do so?

  There is always the master executioner (Heaven) who kills.

  To undertake executions for the master executioner is like hewing wood for the master carpenter.

  Whoever undertakes to hew wood for the master carpenter rarely escapes injuring his own hands.

  75. The people starve because the ruler eats too much tax-grain.

  Therefore they starve.

  They are difficult to rule because their ruler does too many things.

  Therefore they are difficult to rule.

  The people take death lightly because their ruler strives for life too vigorously.

  Therefore they take death lightly.

  It is only those who do not seek after life that excel in making life valuable.

  76. When man is born, he is tender and weak.

  At death, he is stiff and hard.

  All things, the grass as well as trees, are tender and supple while alive.

  When dead, they are withered and dried.

  Therefore the stiff and the hard are companions of death.

  The tender and the weak are companions of life.

  Therefore if the army is strong, it will not win.

  If a tree is stiff, it will break.

  The strong and the great are inferior, while the tender and the weak are superior.

  77. Heaven’s Way is indeed like the bending of a bow.

  When (the string) is high, bring it down.

  When it is low, raise it up.

  When it is excessive, reduce it.

  When it is insufficient, supplement it.

  The Way of Heaven reduces whatever is excessive and supplements whatever is insufficient.

  The way of man is different.

  It reduces the insufficient to offer to the excessive.

  Who is able to have excess to offer to the world?

  Only the man of Tao.

  Therefore the sage acts, but does not rely on his own ability.132

  He accomplishes his task, but does not claim credit for it.133

  He has no desire to display his excellence.

  78. There is nothing softer and weaker than water,

  And yet there is nothing better for attacking hard and strong things.

  For this reason there is no substitute for it.

  All the world knows that the weak overcomes the strong and the soft overcomes the hard.

  But none can practice it.

  Therefore the sage says:

  He who suffers disgrace for his country

  Is called the lord of the land.

  He who takes upon himself the country’s misfortunes

  Becomes the king of the empire.

  Straight words seem to be their opposite.

  79. To patch up great hatred is surely to leave some hatred behind.

  How can this be regarded as good?

  Therefore the sage keeps the left-hand portion (obligation) of a contract

  And does not blame the other party.

  Virtuous people attend to their left-hand portions,

  While those without virtue attend to other people’s mistakes.

  “The Way of Heaven has no favorites.

  It is always with the good man.”134

  80. Let there be a small country with few people.

  Let there be ten times and a hundred times1
35 as many utensils

  But let them not be used.

  Let the people value their lives highly and not migrate far.

  Even if there are ships and carriages, none will ride in them.

  Even if there are armor and weapons, none will display them.

  Let the people again knot cords and use them (in place of writing).

  Let them relish their food, beautify their clothing, be content with their homes, and delight in their customs.

  Though neighboring communities overlook one another and the crowing of cocks and barking of dogs can be heard,

  Yet the people there may grow old and die without ever visiting one another.

  81. True words are not beautiful;

  Beautiful words are not true.

  A good man does not argue;

  He who argues is not a good man.

  A wise man has no extensive knowledge;

  He who has extensive knowledge is not a wise man.

  The sage does not accumulate for himself.

  The more he uses for others, the more he has himself.

  The more he gives to others, the more he possesses of his own.

  The Way of Heaven is to benefit others and not to injure.

  The Way of the sage is to act but not to compete.

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  THE MYSTICAL WAY OF CHUANG TZU

  Chuang Tzu (bet. 399 and 295 b.c.) has always fascinated the Chinese mind. He takes his readers to undreamed of lands and stimulates them through conversations of the shadow, the skeleton, and the north wind. His freshness of insight and broadness of vision are in themselves inspiring. He seems to transcend the mundane world, yet he is always in the very depth of daily life. He is quietistic, yet for him life moves on like a galloping horse. He is mystical, but at the same time he follows reason as the leading light.

  All this is a direct product of his concept of Nature. To him, Nature is not only spontaneity but nature in the state of constant flux and incessant transformation. This is the universal process that binds all things into one, equalizing all things and all opinions. The pure man makes this oneness his eternal abode, in which he becomes a “companion” of Nature and does not attempt to interfere with it by imposing the way of man on it. His goal is absolute spiritual emancipation and peace, to be achieved through knowing the capacity and limitations of one’s own nature, nourishing it, and adapting it to the universal process of transformation. He abandons selfishness of all descriptions, be it fame, wealth, bias, or subjectivity. Having attained enlightenment through the light of Nature, he moves in the realm of “great knowledge” and “profound virtue.” Thus he is free. As the Chuang Tzu itself says of him, “Alone he associates with Heaven and Earth and spirit, without abandoning or despising things of the world. He does not quarrel over right or wrong and mingles with conventional society. . . . Above, he roams with the Creator, and below he makes friends with those who transcend life and death and beginning and end. In regard to the essential, he is broad and comprehensive, profound and unrestrained. In regard to the fundamental, he may be said to have harmonized all things and penetrated the highest level. However, in his response to change and his understanding of things, his principle is inexhaustible, traceless, dark and obscure, and unfathomable.”1

  It is interesting to note that the above account is separate from that on Lao Tzu.2 Although it has been customary to speak of Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu together as Lao-Chuang, actually the practice did not begin until the fifth century.3 Clearly, just as Mencius did not merely elaborate on Confucius’ doctrines but presented something new, so Chuang Tzu definitely advanced beyond Lao Tzu. The Tao in Lao Tzu is still worldly, whereas in Chuang Tzu it becomes transcendental. While Lao Tzu emphasizes the difference between glory and disgrace, strength and weakness, and so forth, and advocates the tender values, Chuang Tzu identifies them all. Lao Tzu aims at reform, but Chuang Tzu prefers to “travel beyond the mundane world.” His concept of te as Tao individualized in the nature of things is much more developed and more clearly stated. There is in him a greater stress on following one’s nature, nourishing it, and adapting it to environment. Thus there is a stronger emphasis on the individual, which eventually led to the over-all importance of particular nature in particular things in Neo-Taoism, especially in his first, and still the best commentator, Kuo Hsiang (d. 312). Furthermore, the idea of self-tranformation takes on a central focus in Chuang Tzu, which presents life and reality as dynamic and ever-changing, thus making a comparison with him and Heraclitus or Hegel stimulating as well as instructive. To regard transformation as the final abode of life is certainly a new note in Chinese philosophy.

  In Chuang Tzu, too, differences between Confucianism and Taoism become much sharper. The Confucianists teach full development of one’s nature, fulfillment of one’s destiny, and participation in the creative work of Nature. Chuang Tzu, on the other hand, believes in nourishing nature, returning to destiny, and enjoying Nature. The Confucianists want people transformed through education, but Chuang Tzu leaves transformation to things themselves. These differences from Confucianism of course make Chuang Tzu all the more Taoistic. It is not wrong, after all, to link Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu together, although it must be borne in mind that he certainly carried Taoism to new heights.

  By and large Confucianists have been critical of Chuang Tzu. Hsün Tzu (fl. 298–238 b.c.) said that he was “prejudiced in favor of Nature and does not know man.”4 Ssu-ma Ch’ien (145–86 b.c.?), the famous historian and the first biographer of Chuang Tzu, characterized his work as “empty talk not based on facts. . . primarily aimed at pleasing himself and useless to rulers of men.”5 And Chu Hsi (1130-1200), the leading Neo-Confucianist, complained, “Lao Tzu still wanted to do something, but Chuang Tzu did not want to do anything at all. He even said that he knew what to do but just did not want to do it.”6 As a matter of fact, he was so much rejected by Chinese thinkers that since the fifth century, his doctrines have never been propagated by any outstanding scholar.

  This does not mean that he has not been influential, however. On the contrary, his impact on Buddhism has been tremendous, especially in the development of the Zen School. He has been a main source of inspiration in Chinese landscape painting and poetry. As part of Taoism, his philosophy helped to transform ancient and medieval Confucianism into Neo-Confucianism, which is Chu Hsi’s own philosophy. His revolt against traditionalism and conventional standards, his poetic mysticism, his subtle individualism, his insight into human nature, his profound interest in how to live and how to respond to all things, and his broad view of things remained inexhaustible sources of inspiration for the Chinese.

  We don’t know much about him, except that according to Ssu-ma Ch’ien’s account his personal name was Chou, he was once a small official, and he declined an offer to become a prime minister in order to retain his freedom. His dates are uncertain, probably between 399 and 295 b.c. He and Mencius were contemporaries, but evidently neither was aware of the other, in all likelihood because of geographical separation.

  The following selections include chapters 2 and 6 in full from the Chuang Tzu. The former reveals his philosophy, the latter his way of life.

  THE CHUANG TZU7

  A. The Equality of Things (ch. 2)

  Tzu-chi of Nan-kuo sat leaning on a low table. Looking up to heaven, he sighed and seemed to be at a loss as if his spirit had left him. Yen Ch’eng Tzu-yu (his pupil), who was standing in attendance in front of him, said, “What is the matter? The body may be allowed to be like dry wood but should the mind be allowed to be like dead ashes? Surely the man leaning on the table now is not the same man leaning on the table before.”

  Comment. The Chuang Tzu is a rich reservoir of imageries. The dry wood and dead ashes have become common idioms in Chinese literature and philosophy. They represent the persistent questions whether man is a spirit and whether the mind is alert.

  “Aren’t you asking a good question!” Tzu-chi replied. “Do you know that
I have just lost myself? You have heard the music of man but not the music of earth. You may have heard the music of the earth but not the music of heaven.”

  “I beg to ask about its composition,” said Tzu-yu.

  “The breath of the universe is called wind,” said Tzu-chi. “At times it is inactive. But when active, angry sounds come from thousands of hollows. Have you never listened to its prolonged roar? The peaks and heights8 of mountains and forests, and the hollows and cavities of huge trees many a span in girth are like nostrils, mouths, ears, beam-sockets, goblets, mortars, puddles, and pools. [The wind rushes into them,] rushing, whizzing, making an explosive and rough noise, or a withdrawing and soft one, shouting, wailing, moaning, and crying. The wind that comes ahead sings ‘yü’ and the wind that follows echoes ‘yung.’ When the winds are gentle, the harmony is small, and when the winds are violent, the harmonies are great. When the fierce gusts stop, all hollows become empty and silent. Have you never witnessed how the trees swing and bend [after the wind is gone]?”

  Tzu-yu said, “Since the music of earth consists of sounds produced in the various hollows, and the music of man consists of sounds produced in a series of flutes, what is the music of heaven?”

  “The wind blows in a thousand different ways,” replied Tzu-chi, “but the sounds are all produced in their own way. They do so by themselves. Who is there to rouse them to action?”

  Great knowledge is leisurely and at ease,9 (or all-embracing and extensive)10 whereas small knowledge is inquisitive (or partial and discriminative).11 Great speech is simple (as in simple taste) whereas small speech is full of details. Whether in sleep when the various elements of the spirit are interlocked in dreams, or when awake when the body is free to move and act, in all their contacts and associations, some of our minds are leisurely, some are deep, and some are serious. We scheme and fight with our minds. When we have small fears we are worried, and when we have great fears we are totally at a loss. One’s mind shoots forth like an arrow to be the arbiter of right and wrong. Now it is reserved like a solemn pledge, in order to maintain its own advantage. Then, like the destruction of autumn and winter, it declines every day. Then it is sunk in pleasure and cannot be covered. Now it is closed like a seal, that is, it is old and exhausted. And finally it is near death and cannot be given life again. Pleasure and anger, sorrow and joy, anxiety and regret, fickleness and fear, impulsiveness and extravagance, indulgence and lewdness come to us like music from the hollows or like mushrooms from damp. Day and night they alternate within us but we don’t know where they come from. Alas! These are with us morning and evening. It’s here where they are produced!12