Ruzeng — Exaggerations of the Scholars儒增篇

The Confucian books say that the virtue of Yao and Shun was utterly excellent and utterly great, that all under Heaven was at peace, and that not one man was punished; and they say further that the flourishing of King Wen and King Wu was left over into the reigns of King Cheng and King Kang, and that punishments were set aside and not used for more than forty years. This is meant to extol Yao and Shun and to praise King Wen and King Wu. Now if words are not added to, the beauty is not enough to extol; if the writing is not made rich, the deeds are not enough to praise. Though Yao and Shun were excellent, they could not make it so that not one man was punished; though King Wen and King Wu were flourishing, they could not make it so that punishments went unused. To say that those who broke the law were few, and that punishment was used sparingly, is right; to say that not one man was punished, and that punishments were set aside and not used, is an addition.

Now one who can make it so that not one man is punished can make it so that not one state is attacked; and one who can make it so that punishments are set aside and not used can make it so that the troops are laid to rest and not sent out.

Consider: Yao attacked Danshui, Shun campaigned against the You Miao, and four men submitted to their guilt, so that punishments and troops were set out and used. In the time of King Cheng four states usurped and rebelled, and the Huai Yi and the Xu Rong together became a trouble and a harm. Now to punish a man one uses the knife, to attack a man one uses troops, to condemn a man one uses the law, to cut a man down one uses arms. Arms and the law are not two things; troops and the knife are not different. Even a man skilled in argument cannot separate them. It is because virtue is wanting that troops are used, and because the law is broken that punishment is applied. Punishment and troops are like the feet and the wings: to run one uses the feet, to fly one uses the wings. Though the parts of the body differ, their moving of the body is the same. Punishment and troops keep the multitude whole and forbid what is crooked, and in truth they are one thing. To speak of the troops being used and to say that punishments were not applied is like a man whose body is maimed and whose eyes are whole, and calling the man's body sound because the eyes are whole. This cannot be followed. A man is fierce at stabbing a tiger and afraid to strike a man, and to call him brave on account of his stabbing the tiger cannot be listened to. Only when the body has nothing broken or wanting, and courage nowhere fails to go forward, is a man whole. Now they extol that not one man was punished, but do not say that not one soldier was used; they praise that punishments were set aside and not used, but do not say that not one man rebelled. This cannot be called excellent, and cannot be called flourishing.

The Confucian books extol Yang Youji of Chu as good at archery, saying that he shot at a single willow leaf and could hit it a hundred times in a hundred shots. This is to extol the skill of his shooting. Now to say that at that time he shot at a single willow leaf and hit it is right; to say that he shot a hundred times and hit a hundred times is an addition.

Now when a single willow leaf is shot at and hit, after one or two hits it is torn through and cannot be shot at again. If the leaf were shot at while it hung on the tree, then even without aiming at a leaf, the willow leaves being thick, it would be hit of itself. Must it then be that the willow leaves were taken down from above and set on the ground one by one to be shot at? To shoot several tens of times is enough to show the skill, and those who watched him shoot would all know his craft in archery; so plainly it did not reach a hundred. Those who tell of things love to add to skill and beauty: hit several tens of times, and they say he hit a hundred. A hundred and a thousand are the great numbers. In truth, when men mean to say ten they say a hundred, and for a hundred they say a thousand. This is of one mind with the Shangshu saying "he brought the ten thousand states into accord" and the Shi saying "sons and grandsons, a thousand million."

The Confucian books say: Wei had a loyal minister, Hong Yan, who went as envoy for Duke Ai of Wei. Before he returned, the Di people attacked Duke Ai and killed him, and ate all his flesh, leaving only his liver. When Hong Yan came back from his mission, he reported on his charge to the liver, and grieved at Duke Ai's death; and since the flesh of his body was all gone and the liver had nothing to cling to, he drew his knife and cut open his own belly, brought out all that was within it, and then put in Duke Ai's liver and died. Those who tell this wish to extol his loyalty. To say that he cut himself open, put in Duke Ai's liver, and died is right. To say that he brought out all that was in his belly and only then put in Duke Ai's liver is an addition.

When men stab one another with a blade, a hit to the five organs brings death at once. Why is this? The five organs are the masters of the breath, as the head is where the vessels gather. Once the head is severed, the hands cannot take another man's head and set it on the neck. How then could he alone first bring out what was in his belly and only then put in Duke Ai's liver? When the belly's contents come out, death follows at once, and the hands can take hold of nothing more. If he first put in Duke Ai's liver and then brought out what was in his belly, the text ought to say that he put in Duke Ai's liver and brought out what was in his belly. Now it says that he first brought out all that was in his belly and then put in Duke Ai's liver, and it says all as well. This adds to the truth.

The Confucian books say: Xiong Quzi of Chu went out, saw a lying stone, took it for a crouching tiger, drew his bow and shot it, and the arrow sank to its feathering. Some say that Yang Youji saw a lying stone, took it for a rhinoceros, shot it, and the arrow drank its feathers. Some say it was Li Guang. So with Xiong Qu, Yang Youji and Li Guang the name of the man is not settled, and there is no truth in it. Some make it a tiger and some a rhinoceros, but rhinoceros and tiger are both fierce, and it is one and the same thing. Some say it sank to the feathering and some say it drank the feathers; but yu (羽) is wei (衛), and only the words differ. What they take from it is that the lying stone looked like a tiger or a rhinoceros, and that fear added to his spirit, so that he shot it in deep. Now to say that he took a lying stone for a tiger and shot it and the arrow went in is right; to say that it sank to the feathering is an addition.

Now when a man sees something like a tiger and takes it in his mind to be one, and draws his bow and shoots, making his spirit full and bending his whole mind upon it, this is no different from his seeing a real tiger. If, shooting a stone that looked like a tiger, the arrow went in to the feathering, then would shooting the body of a real tiger send the arrow clean through? The substance of stone is hard to shoot; flesh is easy to shoot.

Reasoning from its sinking to the feathering in what is hard to shoot, there is no doubting that in what is easy to shoot it would pass clean through. A good archer can shoot far and hit the smallest mark, missing by not a hair's breadth; but how can he make bow and crossbow have more strength than they have? Yang Youji followed the army and shot the Marquis of Jin, and hit him in the eye. Now when a common man shoots at the lord of ten thousand chariots, his spirit is heightened and his strength doubled just as in shooting the lying stone. When he hit the eye of the Marquis of Jin, did it pass clean through to the neck as well? Had it passed through to the neck, the Marquis of Jin should have died.

Even a crossbow of ten piculs drawn on a carriage, one must fear, could not enter a stone by an inch, and the arrow would break into three. How much less with the strength of one man, drawing a small and weak bow: though he added all his sincerity, how could it sink to the feathering? A man's spirit is his breath, and his breath is his strength. When there is a calamity of water or fire, and a man in alarm and dread lifts the vessels and moves them, his sincerity is at its height, and one who ordinarily lifts one picul lifts two. So too, when a man sees a crouching stone and shoots it, his sincerity being doubled, the arrow would go in no more than an inch. How then can it be said that it sank to the feathering? If a man fond of the sword saw a lying stone and in fear hacked at it, could it then be said that he can cut a stone through? If a brave fellow who strikes tigers with his bare fists suddenly saw a lying stone and struck it with his hand, could he make a mark on the stone?

The spirit of a skilled man is the same as that of a clumsy one, and the sincerity of the ancients is the same as that of men today. Set a master archer of today to shoot birds and beasts in the fields: wanting to take them, would he hold back any of his spirit and strength? Yet when he hits the beast, it goes in no more than a few inches. If he slips and strikes a stone by mistake, he cannot get the point in, and the arrow breaks and snaps. This being so, what the Confucian books say of Xiong Quzi of Chu, of Yang Youji and of Li Guang, that they shot a lying stone and the arrow sank to the feathering and drank the feathers, is in every case an addition.

The Confucian books extol the skill of Lu Ban and Mozi, saying that they carved wood into a kite and flew it three days without its coming down. Now to say that they made a kite of wood and flew it is right; to say that for three days it did not come down is an addition.

Now if wood is carved into a kite so as to take the shape of a kite, how can it fly and never settle? And even if it can fly and soar, how can it reach three days? If there truly were a mechanism, so that once it flew it soared on and could not come down again, then one ought to say that it flew on, and not say three days. It is like the saying handed down in the world, "Lu Ban was so skilled that he lost his mother." The words mean that the skilled artisan made for his mother a wooden carriage and horses with a wooden man for driver, and when the mechanism was complete he set his mother upon it, and at one driving it did not come back, and so he lost his mother. If the wooden kite had a mechanism as complete as that of the wooden carriage and horses, then it flew on and did not settle. If a mechanism lasts only a little while and cannot go far past three days, then the wooden carriage too should have stopped on the road in three days, and there would have been no reason for it to go straight off and lose his mother. Both of them must have lost the truth.

The books say that Confucius could not be received by his age, and travelled about offering his counsel to more than seventy states, and never found rest. Now to say that he travelled about and met with no one is right; to say that he sought office in seventy states is an addition.

Consider the chapters of the Analects and the books of the masters. Confucius went back from Wei to Lu, ran out of grain in Chen, had his traces wiped out in Wei, forgot the taste of food in Qi, and had the tree felled in Song; and adding Bi and Dunmou, it does not come to ten states. The tradition's word of seventy states is not the truth of it. Perhaps he sought office in some ten states and more, and the word seventy, handed down in writings and books, led men to say that he sought office in seventy states.

The Analects says: "Confucius asked Gongming Jia about Gongshu Wenzi, saying, 'Is it true that your master does not speak, does not laugh, and does not take?' Gongming Jia answered, 'Whoever told you that went too far. My master speaks only when it is time, and men do not weary of his speaking; he laughs only when he is glad, and men do not weary of his laughing; he takes only when it is right, and men do not weary of his taking.' The Master said, 'Can it be so! Can it be so!'" Now Gongshu Wenzi in truth spoke in season, laughed in season, and took what was right, and men handed it on and extolled him; to say that he does not speak, does not laugh, and does not take is the common talk adding to it in the end.

The books say: Duke Mu of Qin attacked Zheng, and passing through Jin (晉) did not ask leave of the road; and Duke Xiang of Jin led the Qiang Rong and struck them below the pass of Xiao, so that not a single horse and not a single wheel went back. Yet at that time the three great officers whom Qin (秦) had sent, Meng Mingshi, Xi Qishu and Bai Yibing, were all able to return. Now since the three great officers returned, there must have been carriages and horses that went back; and for the text to say that not a single horse and not a single wheel went back adds to the truth.

The books extol Lord Mengchang of Qi, Lord Xinling of Wei, Lord Pingyuan of Zhao and Lord Chunshen of Chu, who treated gentlemen well and humbled themselves to their guests, and called men in from the four quarters, three thousand to each of them. This is meant to say that their humbling themselves to gentlemen was utter, and that those who hurried to them were many. Now to say that the gentlemen were many is right; to say three thousand is an addition. Though the four lords loved gentlemen, and though the gentlemen who came were many, they came to no more than a thousand and some for each. The books, however, say three thousand. Now to speak of many, men must speak in thousands, and to speak of few, they say not one. This is the way of common feeling, and the fault in the telling of things.

The records say that when Gao Zigao lost his parent he wept blood for three years, and was never seen to show his teeth. A gentleman held this hard, because it is hard to do. Now he did not hold it untrue but held it hard, and the gentleman's word is a mistake. That Gao Zi wept blood most likely did happen. Why is this? When Jing He offered his treasure to Chu, and Chu cut off his foot, he grieved that the treasure did not get through and that his own feeling was not made known, and he wept tears, and when the tears were spent blood followed after them. Now that Gao Zi's grief for his parent reached the height of sorrow, and his tears were spent and blood came after them, is the truth. But to say that for three years he was never seen to show his teeth is an addition.

To say that he was never seen to show his teeth is meant to say that he did not speak and did not laugh. That a filial son does not laugh when he has lost his parent is right; but how can he not speak? And if he speaks, how can his teeth not be seen? Confucius said, "Words are not adorned." Perhaps at times he did not speak, and those who handed it down said that he was not seen to show his teeth; or perhaps those who handed it down said that for three years he was not seen to show his teeth. Gaozong was in the mourning hut and did not speak for three years.

Honoured as the Son of Heaven, he did not speak, and even so the text that says he did not speak is still suspected of being an addition. How much more, then, when Gao Zi's station was lowly and it is said that he was never seen to show his teeth. This must be something added to.

The Confucian books say: Qin Xi recommended Baili Xi, and when Duke Mu would not listen, Qin Xi went out and at the gate threw down his head, crushed his skull, and died. Duke Mu grieved for him, and then employed Baili Xi. These words mean that a worthy man recommending a good man does not grudge his own death, but throws down his head and crushes his skull and dies, to get his friend through. The gentlemen of the age spur one another on with it, writings and books hand it down and extol it, and none says that it was not so.

Now to throw down one's head in recommending a good man has happened in old times and happens now. That Qin Xi threw down his head is likely the truth of it; to say that he crushed his skull and died is an addition.

Now when a man knocks his head on the ground, if it hurts the blood flows; but however angry or resentful or terrified he may be, none crushes his skull. It is not that the skull cannot be crushed, but that a man's strength cannot crush it of itself. When a man takes a blade to cut his throat, or sets the point up to stab his breast, it is because the edge and the point help him that his hands and feet can bring the force to bear. Were it said that Qin Xi raised a mallet and struck his own head and crushed it, there would be nothing strange in it; but to throw down the head and crush the skull is beyond what his own strength could bring to bear. There have been men who died from knocking their heads; there has been none who broke and crushed his skull. At that time perhaps he knocked his head in recommending Baili Xi, and the world said emptily that he died; or perhaps he knocked his head and died, and the world said emptily that his skull was crushed.

The Confucian books say: Jing Ke, for the Crown Prince of Yan, stabbed at the King of Qin. He held the sword that was a dagger, and stabbing did not get him, and the King of Qin drew his sword and struck at him. Jing Ke threw the dagger at the King of Qin and did not hit him, but hit a bronze pillar, going in a foot. This was meant to say that the dagger was keen and Jing Ke's force was full, that he threw a keen blade and sank it into a hard, strong pillar, so extolling Jing Ke's courage; and therefore the affair was added to and made more. Now to say that it went into the bronze pillar is the truth; to say that it went in a foot is an addition.

Now though bronze is not so hard and strong as a dagger, the blade would go in no more than a few inches, and could hardly go in a foot. Reasoning from its going in a foot, had it hit the King of Qin, would the dagger have passed clean through him? A crossbow of ten piculs drawn on a carriage, shot at a wall or at a wooden target, still cannot go in a foot. If with the strength of Jing Ke's hand, throwing a light small dagger, his body already taking the blade of the Longyuan sword, it went into a hard strong bronze pillar, then Jing Ke's strength was stouter than a crossbow of ten piculs, and the hardness of a bronze pillar is less than the strength of a wooden target. The world extols Jing Ke's courage, but does not say that his strength was great. Of men of great strength none was like Meng Ben. Set Meng Ben at a bronze pillar: could he drive through it and out a foot? This too was perhaps that the dagger was as keen as Ganjiang and Moye, so that where it stabbed nothing stood before it and where it struck nothing stood under it, and hence the effect of going in a foot. Now the extolling of Ganjiang and Moye also goes beyond the truth, and that nothing stood before or under their stabbing and striking is of a kind with the dagger's going a foot into the bronze pillar.

The Confucian books say that Dong Zhongshu read the Chunqiu with his whole spirit bent on one thought, his will nowhere else, and for three years did not look out at the garden vegetables.

Now to say that he did not look out at the garden vegetables is the truth; to say three years is an addition.

Though Zhongshu was intent, he too loosened and rested at times, and in the spaces of his rest he should still have strolled beside the gate and the courtyard; and if he could get as far as the gate and the courtyard, what was to keep him from looking at the garden vegetables? One hears that a man who uses his spirit looks at a thing and does not see it, and holds to the Way and forgets his own body; one does not hear that he never gets to the gate and the courtyard, but sits thinking for three years and never gets as far as looking at the garden. The Wu yi chapter of the Shangshu says, "The gentleman dwells where there is no ease; he first knows the hardship of sowing and reaping, and then he is at ease." A man's sinews and bones are not wood and not stone, and they cannot but be loosened. Therefore to draw the bow and never slacken it, King Wen would not do; to slacken it and never draw it, King Wen did not practise; now slack and now drawn, this King Wen made his constant way. The sage's endowment is excellent, and even he has his times of slackening and drawing. Zhongshu's endowment and strength were poorer than a sage's. How could he use his spirit for three years without rest?

The Confucian books say: when Xia was at its height, the distant regions drew pictures of the creatures, and the nine pastors sent in metal as tribute; cauldrons were cast with the creatures figured on them, and so provision was made. Therefore men who went into the mountains and marshes did not meet evil things, and by this they drove off the crooked spirits, and so were able to be in accord above and below, and to receive the blessing of Heaven.

Now the nature of metal is that it is a thing. Because what the distant regions sent as tribute was held beautiful, it was cast into cauldrons, and the strange shapes of the hundred creatures were figured on them. How can that make men go into the mountains and marshes and not meet evil things, and drive the crooked spirits away? In the time of Zhou all under Heaven was at peace, and Yuechang offered a white pheasant and the Wa people sent chang grass as tribute. Eating the white pheasant and using the chang grass cannot drive out ill fortune; how then can a vessel, a metal cauldron, drive off crookedness? Moreover the coming of the nine cauldrons was an auspicious sign of virtue at its height.

Wearing things of good omen cannot bring good fortune on. Men wear jade and women wear pearls. Pearls and jade can drive nothing away from a man. To make an orchid robe of rare and precious things, or to make a body of ivory, and to say that there is profit in it, is talk of the same sort as the nine cauldrons. Now since the nine cauldrons can drive nothing away, when the tradition says that they could drive off the crooked spirits, this is the books adding to the text.

The common talk handed down says that the cauldron of Zhou boiled of itself with no fire beneath it, and that without anything being put in, things came out of it of themselves. This is the common talk adding to the saying and the Confucian books adding to the text, making the nine cauldrons, which have nothing marvellous about them, divine for nothing.

And further, those who say that the cauldron of Zhou was divine, by what did they look into it? The metal of the cauldron of Zhou was what the distant regions sent as tribute, and Yu got it and cast it into cauldrons. In making them cauldrons he put on them the shapes of the hundred creatures. If they are divine because the distant regions sent them as tribute, how can things from distant regions be divine? If they are divine because Yu cast them, Yu was a sage and could not be divine; and if the body of a sage cannot be divine, how can a vessel he cast be divine? If they are divine because metal is what they are, then metal is of the kind of stone; and if stone cannot be divine, how can metal be divine? If they are divine because they carry the shapes of the hundred creatures, then the shapes of the hundred creatures are like the thunder jar. On the thunder jar are carved and drawn the shapes of cloud and thunder; and cloud and thunder are in Heaven, and are more divine than the hundred creatures. If the shapes of cloud and thunder cannot be divine, how can the shapes of the hundred creatures be divine?

The tradition says that when Qin destroyed Zhou, the nine cauldrons of Zhou went into Qin.

Looking into the matter as it was: in the time of King Nan of Zhou, King Zhao of Qin sent a general to attack King Nan, and King Nan in his dread fled to Qin, bowed his head and took his punishment, and gave up all his thirty-six towns and his thirty thousand people. Qin received what he gave and sent King Nan back. When King Nan died, the King of Qin took the nine cauldrons and the precious vessels. If it was so, the nine cauldrons were in Qin. In the twenty-eighth year of the First Emperor, he travelled to Langye, and on his way back passed Pengcheng, where he fasted and prayed and sacrificed, wishing to bring out the cauldron of Zhou, and sent a thousand men down into the waters of the Si to search for it, but they could not find it. Looking into the times, three reigns after King Zhao came the First Emperor, and Qin had no calamity of danger or disorder, so the cauldrons should not have been lost, and the time of their loss was most likely in Zhou. The tradition's word, that King Nan fled to Qin and that Qin took the nine cauldrons, is perhaps a mistake. The tradition says further that the altar of Taiqiu in Song was lost, and that a cauldron sank into the waters below Pengcheng, and that twenty-nine years after this Qin brought all under Heaven together. If it was so, the cauldrons never went into Qin. Their loss was a going away from Zhou, and there was nothing divine in it.

In the time of the Spring and Autumn five stones fell in Song. The five stones were stars, and a star's leaving Heaven is like a cauldron's being lost from the earth. If a star's leaving Heaven is not divine, how can a cauldron's being lost from the earth be divine? In the time of the Spring and Autumn three mountains were lost, just as the altar of Taiqiu left Song and the five stars left Heaven. The loss of the three mountains, the fall of the five stones and the departure of the altar of Taiqiu all had their own causes. So too, when the cauldrons were lost, there was something that answered to their loss. One cannot call them divine merely because they were lost. If the cauldrons are the same as the three mountains of Qin, their loss cannot be divine. If they had knowledge and wished to avoid the calamity of danger and disorder, then they lived through the times of Jie and Zhou Xin. For decay and disorder and lawlessness nothing goes beyond Jie and Zhou Xin, and in the time of Jie and Zhou Xin the cauldrons were not lost and did not go away. The decay and disorder of the house of Zhou were not the equal of Jie and Zhou Xin. To stay with the lawless Jie and Zhou Xin and to leave the worn-out end of the house of Zhou is not merely a going away; it ought to be the proof that they were divine and had knowledge. Perhaps when the house of Zhou perished, generals and their men saw the cauldrons and stole them away, and crooked men melted them down and cast them into other vessels, so that the First Emperor sought them and could not find them; and afterwards, because men said they had a divine name, the empty saying arose that they had sunk in the Si.

In the time of Emperor Xiaowen, Xinyuan Ping, a man of Zhao, sent up a writing and said: "The cauldron of Zhou is lost in the waters of the Si. Now the He has overflowed and joined the Si, and as your servant looks to the northeast, at Fenyin there is indeed a breath of metal. It is my thought that the cauldron of Zhou will come out! If the sign appears and is not welcomed, it will not come." At this Emperor Wen sent an envoy to build a shrine at Fenyin, looking south over the He, wishing by sacrifice to bring out the cauldron of Zhou. A man sent up a writing and reported that everything Xinyuan Ping had said about the divine vessel was a fraud, and at this Ping's case was sent down to the officers. The officers dealt with it, and Xinyuan Ping was put to death. Now to say that the cauldron is in the waters of the Si is like Xinyuan Ping's lying words that a divine breath was seen at the cauldron.