Gengsang Chu莊子 雜篇 庚桑楚

Among the followers of Lao Dan there was one named Gengsang Chu, who had grasped one side of Lao Dan's Way, and he went north to live on Mount Weilei. Of his servants, those who were brightly knowing left him; of his concubines, those who made a show of kindness kept away from him. He lived with the dull and was served by the busy.

When he had lived there three years, Weilei prospered greatly. The people of Weilei said to one another, "When Master Gengsang first came, we were startled and thought him strange. Now, if we count by the day, there is not enough; if we count by the year, there is more than enough. Perhaps he is a sage. Why do we not together set him up as the impersonator of the dead and pray to him, and make him our god of the soil and the grain?"

Master Gengsang heard this, and though he sat facing south he was not pleased. His followers thought it strange.

Master Gengsang said, "My followers, why do you think me strange? When the breath of spring rises, the hundred grasses grow; when autumn comes in its season, the ten thousand fruits are formed. Do spring and autumn become so without receiving anything? The way of heaven has already run its course.

"I have heard that the perfect man sits like an impersonator of the dead in a hut of four bare walls, while the people run wild and do not know where to go. Now the small people of Weilei whisper among themselves and wish to set me up with the offering vessels among the worthy. Am I a man to be made a mark for others? That is why I am not pleased at the words of Lao Dan."

A follower said, "It is not so. In a ditch eight feet across a great fish has no room to turn its body, but the salamander and the loach lord it there. On a mound a few feet high a great beast has no place to hide its body, but the uncanny fox counts it a blessing.

"And to honor the worthy, to entrust the able, to put the good and the useful first, has been so from ancient times with Yao and Shun, how much more with the people of Weilei. Master, hear them out."

Master Gengsang said, "Come here, young man. A beast big enough to swallow a cart, if it goes off alone and leaves the mountain, does not escape the trouble of the net; a fish big enough to swallow a boat, if the waves cast it up and it loses the water, can be tormented even by ants.

"So birds and beasts do not weary of height, and fish and turtles do not weary of depth. A man who would keep his body and his life whole does not weary of the deep and the far when he hides himself, that is all.

"And how are those two men worth praising? As a matter of clever words, it is like boring through a wall at random to plant weeds, like picking out the hairs to comb them, like counting the grains of rice to cook them. What good is such whispering for saving the world?

"Raise up the worthy and the people jostle one another; entrust the knowing and the people rob one another. These few things are not enough to enrich the people.

"The people are so busy after profit that sons kill their fathers and subjects kill their rulers, that they steal in broad daylight and bore through walls at high noon.

"I tell you, the root of the great disorder will surely spring up between Yao and Shun, and its branch tips will remain a thousand generations after. A thousand generations after, there will surely be men who eat one another."

Nanrong Chu was startled and sat up straight and said, "A man of my years is already old. What am I to take up and study to reach these words?"

Master Gengsang said, "Keep your body whole, hold your life, and do not let your thoughts run busily about. Three years of this and you can reach these words."

Nanrong Chu said, "Between the eye and the body I know no difference, yet the blind man cannot see for himself. Between the ear and the body I know no difference, yet the deaf man cannot hear for himself. Between the mind and the body I know no difference, yet the mad man cannot get hold of himself.

"Body and body too are set apart. Is it that something comes between them, so that they would seek each other and cannot reach each other?

"Now you tell me, 'Keep your body whole, hold your life, and do not let your thoughts run busily about.' I have taken pains, and the Way has reached no further than my ears."

Master Gengsang said, "My words are done. It is said that the little wasp cannot change the bean caterpillar, and that the hen of Yue cannot hatch the egg of a swan, though the hen of Lu can. Hen and hen, their virtue is not unlike; that one is able and the other is not is because their gifts are truly large and small.

"Now my gift is small and is not enough to change you. Why do you not go south and see Laozi?"

Nanrong Chu shouldered his provisions, and after seven days and seven nights he came to where Laozi was.

Laozi said, "Have you come from Chu?" Nanrong Chu said, "Yes."

Laozi said, "Why have you come with so many people?" Nanrong Chu looked behind him in fear.

Laozi said, "Do you not know what I mean?"

Nanrong Chu bowed his head in shame, then looked up and sighed and said, "Now I have forgotten my answer, and by that I have lost my question as well."

Laozi said, "What do you mean?"

Nanrong Chu said, "If I do not know, people call me a fool. If I know, it only grieves my body. If I am not benevolent, I harm others; if I am benevolent, it only grieves my own person. If I am not right, I injure the other man; if I am right, it only grieves me.

"Where am I to flee from this? These three sayings are what trouble me, and by way of Chu I would ask about them."

Laozi said, "A while ago I looked between your brows and your lashes, and by that I knew you. Now you speak as well, and I believe it.

"You are bewildered, like a man who has lost his father and mother, like a man who lifts a pole to sound the sea. You are a man who has lost his home. How lost you are. You would turn back to your own true state and your own nature, and there is no way in. What a pity."

Nanrong Chu asked leave to go in and stay at the lodging. He called in what he liked and put away what he disliked, and grieved by himself for ten days, and then saw Laozi again.

Laozi said, "You have washed yourself clean, but how stifled you are. Even so, something bad still wells up inside you.

"A man bound from without cannot be held down with more binding; he must shut the inside. A man bound from within cannot be held down with more tying; he must shut the outside. A man bound both without and within cannot be held even by the Way and its virtue, how much less one who lets go of the Way and walks on."

Nanrong Chu said, "When a man of the village falls ill, the villagers come to ask after him. If the sick man can speak of his illness, he is not yet truly ill.

"For one like me to hear of the great Way is like drinking medicine and adding to the illness. I wish only to hear the rule for guarding life."

Laozi said, "The rule for guarding life. Can you hold to the one? Can you keep from losing it? Can you know good and ill fortune without divining? Can you stop? Can you leave off? Can you let go of others and seek in yourself? Can you be unhindered? Can you be simple? Can you be a little child?

"A little child cries all day and its throat does not grow hoarse, for that is the height of harmony. It grips all day and its hand does not cramp, for that is sharing in its own virtue. It looks all day and its eyes do not blink, for it is not turned outward.

"It walks and does not know where it goes, it stays and does not know what it does. It bends and winds along with things and shares their waves. This is the rule for guarding life."

Nanrong Chu said, "Then is this the virtue of the perfect man?"

He said, "No. This is what is called the melting of ice and the thawing of frost. Can you do it?

"The perfect men feed together on the earth and take their joy together in heaven. They do not stir one another up with the profit and harm of men and things. They do not work wonders together, they do not scheme together, they do not busy themselves together. They go off unhindered and they come back simple. This is what is called the rule for guarding life."

He said, "Then is this the utmost?"

He said, "Not yet. I did indeed tell you, 'Can you be a little child?'

"The little child moves and does not know what it does, it walks and does not know where it goes. Its body is like the branch of a withered tree and its mind like dead ashes. To such a one calamity does not come, and blessing does not come either. Where there is neither calamity nor blessing, how could there be harm from men?"

The man whose court is greatly settled sends out the light of heaven. In one who sends out the light of heaven, men see the man in him and things see the thing in them.

When a man has cultivation, he then has constancy. Where there is constancy, men lodge with him and heaven helps him. What men lodge with is called one of heaven's people; what heaven helps is called a son of heaven.

The learner learns what he cannot learn. The doer does what he cannot do. The arguer argues what he cannot argue.

When knowing stops at what it cannot know, that is the utmost. If there is one who does not come to this, the evenness of heaven will break him.

Gather things together to serve the body, store up what you do not reckon on so as to keep the mind alive, revere what is within so as to reach through to what is beyond. If after this all manner of evil still comes, it is all from heaven and not from man, and it is not enough to spoil what has been made. Do not let it into the spirit court.

The spirit court holds something, and does not know what it holds, and it is a thing that cannot be held.

He who does not see his own truth and yet puts himself forth is never fitting in what he puts forth. When business comes in and does not settle, he loses with every change he makes.

He who does what is not good in the open light, men will catch him and punish him. He who does what is not good in the dark and the quiet, the ghosts will catch him and punish him. Only when a man is clear before men and clear before ghosts can he walk alone.

He who pledges himself within walks where there is no name. He who pledges himself without sets his mind on the reckoning of expense.

He who walks where there is no name has light even in the common round. He who sets his mind on the reckoning of expense is a merchant and nothing more. Men see him standing on tiptoe and still think him lofty.

To the man who goes to the end together with things, things come in. The man who barely gets along with things cannot hold even his own body, so how could he hold other men? He who cannot hold other men has no kin, and he who has no kin is at an end among men.

Of weapons none cuts deeper than the will, and Moye is below it. Of robbers none is greater than yin and yang, and between heaven and earth there is no escaping them. It is not that yin and yang harm the man; it is his own mind that makes it so.

When the Way runs through, it divides. Its making is its breaking.

What is hated in dividing is that the dividing is done for the sake of completeness. What is hated in completeness is that there is something to make complete.

So if a man goes out and does not come back, he sees his own ghost. If he goes out and gains, this is called gaining death. Where a thing is gone and yet something real remains, that is one kind of ghost.

Take what has form as the image of what has no form, and be settled.

It comes out with no root, it goes in with no opening. It has something real and no place to dwell. It has length and no root or tip. There is something real in that which comes out and yet has no opening.

What has something real and no place to dwell is yu (宇). What has length and no root or tip is zhou (宙).

There is living and there is dying, there is coming out and there is going in. It goes in and comes out and shows no form, and this is called the Gate of Heaven. The Gate of Heaven is nothingness. The ten thousand things come out of nothingness.

Being cannot make being out of being. It must come out of nothingness, and nothingness is nothingness throughout. The sage stores himself here.

The men of old had a place where their knowing reached the utmost. How far did it reach?

There were those who held that things had never yet begun to be. That is the utmost, the end, and nothing can be added to it. Next were those who held that there were things, and took life for a loss and death for a return; with this the dividing began. Next were those who said that in the beginning there was nothingness, and then there was life, and life soon dies; they took nothingness for the head, life for the body, and death for the rump.

Who knows that being and nothingness, death and life, are held as one? I would be his friend.

These three are different, yet they are of one clan. The Zhao and the Jing were known by their office, the Jia by their fief; they are not one.

That there is life is a dark stain. Spread wide, it is called yishi (移是). If one would speak of yishi, it is not a thing to be spoken of. Even so, it cannot be known.

At the winter sacrifice there are the tripe and the hooves of the ox, which can be separated and cannot be separated. It is like a man viewing a house, who goes all round the bedchamber and the shrine, and then goes to the privy as well. For this reason yishi (移是) is raised up.

Let me speak of yishi (移是). It takes life for its root and knowing for its teacher, and by that it rides on right and wrong. It holds that there truly are names and realities, and by that it makes itself the substance.

It makes men take it for their point of honor, and by that makes them pay for that honor with death. Such men take being of use for knowing and being of no use for folly; they take getting through for fame and being stuck for disgrace.

Yishi (移是) is the man of today. This is the cicada and the young dove agreeing in what they agree on.

If you step on a stranger's foot in the market, you say you are sorry for your carelessness. If it is your elder brother, you soothe him. If it is your parent, that is the end of it.

So it is said: The utmost ritual takes no account of persons, the utmost rightness takes no account of things, the utmost knowing does not scheme, the utmost benevolence has no kin, the utmost good faith puts metal aside.

Sweep away the confusion of the will, loose the tangles of the mind, throw off the burdens of virtue, open what blocks the Way.

Rank, wealth, prominence, dignity, fame, and profit, these six confuse the will. Looks, bearing, color, grain, breath, and intent, these six tangle the mind. Hate, desire, joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure, these six burden virtue. Leaving, approaching, taking, giving, knowing, and ability, these six block the Way.

When these four sets of six do not toss about in the breast, a man is upright. Upright, he is still. Still, he is clear. Clear, he is empty. Empty, he does nothing, and there is nothing he does not do.

The Way is what virtue reveres. Life is the light of virtue. Nature is the stuff of life. The stirring of nature is called doing, and doing gone false is called losing.

Knowing is meeting. Knowing is scheming. What the knowing man does not know is like a sidelong glance.

To move only when there is no other way is called virtue. To move with nothing in it that is not oneself is called order. The names are opposite and the realities follow each other.

Yi was skilled at hitting the smallest mark, but clumsy at keeping men from praising him. The sage is skilled in heaven but clumsy in man. To be skilled in heaven and good in man as well, only the whole man can do that.

Only a bug can be a bug, only a bug can be heaven. The whole man dislikes heaven and dislikes the heaven of man, and how much more would he dislike my talk of heaven and of man.

When a sparrow comes near Yi, Yi is sure to get it, and that is his skill. Make the world a cage, and the sparrow has nowhere to flee.

So it was that Tang caged Yi Yin with the post of cook, and Duke Mu of Qin caged Baili Xi with the skins of five rams.

So it is that there is no one who can be caught except by caging him with what he likes.

The man whose foot has been cut off throws away adornment, for praise and blame are outside him. The convict labourer climbs to a height and is not afraid, for he has let go of death and life.

A man who goes over his lesson again and again without shame forgets other men, and forgetting other men, he becomes by that a man of heaven.

And so the man who is not glad when he is honored and not angry when he is slighted is only the man who has become one with the harmony of heaven.

If you let out anger and are not angry, then your anger comes out of not being angry. If you let out doing and there is no doing, then your doing comes out of not doing.

If you would be still, level your breath. If you would be spirit-like, follow your mind. When there is doing and you would have it be fitting, follow what cannot be otherwise. What cannot be otherwise is the way of the sage.