A wealthy man had a cook whose food he loved. One day, she announced that she was leaving. Alarmed at the prospect of going without her food, the man began to plead with her to stay.
“How about I double your salary?” the man said.
“No.”
“I'll give you your own servant.”
“No.”
“What about if I let you bring your friends over here?”
“No,” the woman replied. “I'm leaving. Nothing's going to change my mind. I'll head out tomorrow morning.”
The next day, just as she was about to leave, the man, now in great desperation, asked her to marry him. She said yes, and the man was greatly relieved.
But a week after the wedding, when he asked her to make his favorite dish, she responded, “What? A lady in my position doesn't cook. If you want food, hire a chef."
Upon hearing this, the poor man had a breakdown and left his home, never to be seen again by anyone in his village.
A man from Lu was a skilled shoe maker, and his wife was a skilled gloss-silk weaver. They were about to move to Yueh, when someone said to them, “If you go, you'll become poor.”
“Why?” asked the man.
The reply was, “The people of Yueh walk barefooted, and they don't wear gloss-silk crowns. Your skills will be useless over there."
Meng Sun went for a hunt and caught a fawn. He ordered Ch’in Hsi Pa to bring it back. But as the latter took it back, the mother deer continuously followed along and wept--and Ch’in Hsi Pa found this so unbearable that he returned the fawn to its mother.
When Meng Sun arrived and asked for the fawn, Hsi Pa said, “I was unable to bear the mother’s weeping, so I returned it to her.” Greatly angered, Meng Sun fired him.
A few months later, however, he rehired him and made him tutor to his son.
Upon hearing of this, his coachman curiously asked, “How come Your Highness blamed him earlier, and now have called him back to tutor your own son?”
“Well,” Meng Sun said, “he couldn't bear the ruin of a fawn—so how could he possibly bear the ruin of my son?”
In ancient times, Kung Sung Lung tld his disciples, “I only have use for people with talent.”
A guest came along, dressed in cheap clothing. During an interview, he said, “Your servant has the talent of being able to shout.”
Kung Sung asked his disciples if they had any criers. "No," was the reply. A dn so, the King hired the stranger.
A few days later, the disciples went to call on Yen Wang for consultation. On coming to a river, the ferryboat was found to be far away at the opposite bank.
And thus, the newly enlisted crier was ordered to vociferate his loudest—and after shouting once, the boat came.
Thus it is written: The Sage does not readily overlook the service of any man with ability.
A young man in Ch’i State had a burning lust for gold. One morning, he got up early and went to the marketplace—and as soon as he saw some gold at a moneychanger’s stand, he grabbed it and ran. The police caught him, and, quite puzzled, they asked why he committed the theft in plain view of so many people.
“When I was taking the gold,” the young man explained, “I didn't see anybody at all. I only saw the gold, and nothing but the gold.”
The Duke of Pai was obsessed with getting revenge on the men of Cheng who killed his father. One day, he leaned on his horse-prodding stick without realizing that it was upside down. It punctured his cheek and caused a lot of bleeding--and yet, he didn't even notice.
The men of Cheng remarked, “He's unaware of his own face. Who knows what else he's unaware of?”
A wealthy man died and gave his assets to his two daughters. Each daughter got an equal share, but since it was difficult to assign an exact value on what they got, each daughter suspected that the other had received the larger share.
They took each other to court, each demanding that they receive the extra value of the other's inheritance.
Instead of attempting to place a value on all of the assets, the judge simply ordered that they exchange their inheritances.
Two men were arguing over a piece of cloth, each claiming they owned it. A mayor noticed this and asked them about it.
After hearing their sides of the story, he told his assistants to cut the cloth in half, and distribute it equally among the men.
Then after each man left with his share, the mayor ordered his assistants to follow them. The assistants later came back and told the mayor that one man was joyous, while the other man was upset.
The mayor arrested the joyous one and put him on trial, and the man admitted that the cloth was not his.
Wu Ch’i was leading Wey State's army in an attack on the Central Hills. One of his soldiers was ill with boils, and Wu Ch’i himself bent down and sucked the pus out of the boil.
The soldier’s mother cried as she watched nearby, causing others to ask, “Why are you crying? The general is being so nice to your son. ”
The mother replied, “Wu Ch’i also sucked the pus out of his father’s wound, and his father was later killed in battle. The same thing will probably happen to my son.”
A man from Cheng wanted to buy a new pair of shoes. He measured his feet first, and left the measurements in his chair. When he arrived at the marketplace, he noticed that he had forgotten the measurements. So he went home to get them. And when he got back, the marketplace was closed.
He told someone about what had happened, and the person said, “Why didn’t you just try the shoes with your own feet?”
The man replied, “I have confidence in my measurements, but not in my own feet.”
A man couldn't find his axe, and suspected that his neighbor’s son stole it. As the man inspected the boy—the way he moved, the look on his face, and the way he spoke—everything seemed to point to the boy’s guilt. “He stole my axe!” the man thought to himself.
However, not long afterwards, he came across his missing axe while digging in a dell.
The next day, he looked at his neighbor’s son again. This time, he couldn't spot all those cues that pointed to the boy’s guilt the previous day.
There was once a man who, though born in Yen, was brought up in Ch’u, and it was only in his old age that he went to return to his native country.
On the way there, as he was passing through another region known as Chin, a fellow traveler played a practical joke on him. Pointing to the city he said, “Here is the capital of the Yen,” whereupon the old man flushed with excitement. Then pointing out a certain shrine, he told him, “This is your own village altar,” and the old man heaved a deep sigh. Then he showed him a house, and said, “This is where your ancestors lived,” and tears welled up into the old man’s eyes. Finally, a mound was pointed out to him as the tomb where his ancestors lay buried, whereupon the old man could control himself no longer, and wept aloud.
But his fellow traveler burst into roars of laughter. I have been hoaxing you,” he cried; “this is Chin.”
His victim was greatly mortified; and when he arrived at his journey’s end and really did see before him the city and altars of Yen, with the actual abode and tombs of his ancestors, his emotion was much less acute.
Mr. P’ang of Chin had a son who was clever as a child, but seemed rather disordered as he advanced to his teen years. He interpreted laughter as crying, he mistook good fragrances as bad ones and bitter tastes as sweet, he said white was black, and regarded inappropriate actions as appropriate. It seemed like no matter what came up, no matter what was involved—whether it was water or fire, hot or cold—the boy mixed up everything.
A man by the name of Yang told the father, “The gentlemen of Lu [the Confucians] have a variety of skills and talents. Perhaps they can cure him. Perhaps you should consult with them.”
The father thereupon headed towards Lu, and as he traveled through Ch’en, he encountered Lao Tzu and told him about his predicament.
Lao Tzu said, “Can you really be sure that your son is disordered? Nowadays, there is universal delusion when it comes to right, wrong, truth, and falsehood—so much so that since all people share this delusion, no one is aware of it. And besides, one person’s disorder will not necessarily make the family disordered; one family’s disorder will not necessarily make the village disordered; one village’s disorder will not necessarily make the country disordered; and one country’s disorder will not necessarily make the world disordered.
“And suppose the world is disordered. Then what is disorder? Suppose all the world was like your son—wouldn’t that make you the only one who was disordered? And can anyone really discern the true standard when it comes to joy, sorrow, music, beauty, smells, tastes, right, and wrong?
“Indeed, I myself am uncertain as to whether or not I am disordered in telling you these things. And as for those gentlemen of Lu, perhaps they are the most disordered of all. So how can they clear up the disorders?
“Maybe it would be best if you saved your money and went back home. “
Lung Shu said to Wen Chih, “You are the master of cunning arts. I have a disease. Can you cure it, Sir?”
“I am at your service,” replied Wen Chih. “But please let me know first the symptoms of your disease.”
“I hold it no honor,” said Lung Shu, “to be praised in my native village, nor do I consider it a disgrace to he decried in my native State. Gain does not cause me joy, loss does not cause me sorrow. I look upon life in the same light as death, upon riches in the same light as poverty, upon my fellow men as so many swine, and upon myself as my fellow men. I dwell in my home as though it were a mere caravanserai, and regard my native district with no more feeling than I would a barbarian State. As I am afflicted in in these various ways, honors and rewards do not rouse me, pains and penalties do not overawe me, good or bad fortune do not influence me, and joy or grief do not move me. Thus I am incapable of serving my sovereign, associating with my friends and kinsmen, directing my wife and children, or controlling my servants and retainers.
“What disease is this, and what remedy is there that will cure it?”
Wen Chih replied by asking Lung Shu to stand with his back to the light, while he himself faced the light and looked at him intently.
“Ah!” said he after a while, “I see that a good square inch of your heart is hollow. You are within an ace of being a true Sage. Six of the orifices in your heart are open and clear, and only the seventh is blocked up. [The Sage has seven orifices in his heart]
“This, however, is doubtless due to the fact that you are mistaking divine enlightenment for a disease—and in such a case, my shallow art is of no avail.”
Kung Hu of Lu and Ch’i Ying of Chao both fell ill at the same time, and called in the aid of Pien Ch’iao.
Pien Ch’iao cured them both, and when they were well again, he told them that they had been suffering from maladies that attacked the internal organs from without, and that were therefore curable by the application of drugs.
“But,” he added, “each of you is also the victim of an inner disease that has grown along with the body itself. Would you like me now to grapple with this?”
They said yes, but asked to hear his diagnosis first.
Pien Ch’iao turned to Kung Hu and said, “Your mental powers are strong, but your willpower is weak. Thus, though fruitful in plans, you lack resolve.
“Ch’i Ying’s mental powers are weak, while his willpower is strong. Thus, there is a lack of forethought, and a narrow-mindedness that puts him at a disadvantage.
“Now then, if I can switch your hearts, the good will be equally balanced in both of you.”
After saying this, Pien Ch’iao gave each of them a wine potion that made them pass out for three days. Then, making an incision in their chests, he took out each man’s heart and placed it in the other’s body, and applied the wounds with herbs of marvelous effectiveness.
When the two men regained consciousness, they looked exactly the same as before; and, taking their leave, they returned home. However, Kung Hu went to Ch’i Ying’s house, where Ch’i Ying’s wife and children naturally did not recognize him, while Ch’i Ying went to Kung Hu’s house, and also was not recognized either.
This led to a lawsuit between the two families, and Pien Ch’iao was called in as arbitrator.
On his explaining how the matter stood, peace was once more restored.
King Mu of Chou made a tour of inspection in the west. He crossed the K’un-lun range, but turned back before he reached the Yen mountains.
On his return journey, before arriving in China, a certain artificer/craftsman was presented to him, by name Yen Shih. King Mu received him in audience, and asked what he could do.
“I will do anything,” replied Yen Shih, “that your Majesty may please to command. But there is a piece of work, already finished, that I should like to submit first to your Majesty’s inspection.”
“Bring it with you tomorrow,” said the King, “and we will look at it together.”
So Yen Shih called again the next day, and was duly admitted to the royal presence. “Who is that man accompanying you?” asked the King.
“That, Sire, is my own creation. He can sing and he can act.”
The King stared at the figure in astonishment. It walked with rapid strides, moving its head up and down, so that any one would have taken it for a live human being. The artificer touched its chin, and it began singing, perfectly in tune. He touched its hand, and it started posturing, keeping perfect time. It went through any number of movements that fancy might happen to dictate. The King, looking on with his favorite concubine and the other inmates of his harem, could hardly persuade himself that it was not real.
As the performance was drawing to an end, the automaton winked his eye and made flirtatious advances to the ladies in attendance on the King.
This, however, threw the King into a passion, and he would have put Yen Shih to death on the spot had not the latter, in mortal terror, instantly pulled the automaton to pieces to let him see what it really was. And lo! It turned out to be merely a conglomeration of leather, wood, glue and paint, variously colored white, black, red and blue.
Examining it closely, the King found all the internal organs complete—liver, gall, heart, lungs, spleen, kidneys, stomach and intestines—and, over these, again, muscles and bones and limbs with their joints, skin and teeth and hair, all of them artificial. Not a part but was fashioned with the utmost nicety and skill; and when it was put together again, the figure presented the same appearance as when first brought in. The King tried the effect of taking away the heart, and found that the mouth would no longer utter a sound; he took away the liver, and the eyes could no longer see; he took away the kidneys, and the legs lost their power of locomotion.
Now the King was delighted. Drawing a deep breath, he exclaimed, “Can it be that human skill is really on a par with that of the Creator?”
And forthwith he gave an order for two extra chariots, in which he took home with him the artificer and his handiwork.
Now, Pan Shu, with his cloud-scaling ladder [he could mount to the sky and assail the heights of heaven], and Mo Ti, with his flying [wooden] kite [that would fly for three days without coming down], thought that they had reached the limits of human achievement.
But when Yen Shih’s wonderful piece of work had been brought to their knowledge, the two philosophers never again ventured to boast of their mechanical skill, and ceased to busy themselves so frequently with the square and compasses.
For three years, Tzu Chan was a succesful minister in Cheng. The good people complied with his injunctions, and the bad were in awe of his prohibitory laws. So Cheng was well governed, and the princes [of other states] were afraid of it.
However, his older brother Kung Sun Chow was an alchoholic and drug addict, and his younger brother Kung Sun Mu was a sex addict.
Kung Sun Cho’s home was filled with liquor and drugs that people could smell a hundred yards away. And he was always drunk, the the point where he ignored the feeling of remorse, was unconscious of the safe and dangerous parts of the path of life, what was present or wanting in his house, his family relations and other relations, the joy of living, and the sadness of death. Water, fire and swords might almost touch him, and he would be unaware of it.
Kung Sun Mu’s estate contained dozens of houses filled with attractive women. And he was so captivated by their charms that he neglected his relatives and friends, and retired into his inner court, remaining there day and night, and still not feeling contended even if he barely ever came out over a span of months. Any time an attractive girl came into the neighborhood, he would try to win her with bribes or allurements, and only desist if it became evident he would not obtain his desires.
Tzu Chan pondered over these matters, and consulted Teng Hsi, saying, “I have heard that the care for one’s own self has its influence on the family, and the care taken of a family influences the state—that is to say, starting from the nearest, one reaches to what is distant. Though I have taken care of my kingdom, my own family is in disorder. Perhaps this Tao is not the right one. What should I do? What measures should I take to save these two men?
Teng Hsi replied, “I too have wondered about this for quite some time, but never dared to be the first one to bring it up to you. Perhaps you should maintain a tight reign on them. Administer exhortations based on the importance of life and nature, or admonitions regarding the sublimity of righteousness and proper conduct.”
Tzu Chan did as Teng Hsi had advised, and, taking an opportunity of seeing his brothers, said to them, “Man is superior to the birds and beasts by way of his mental faculties. Through them he can aquire righteousness and propriety, and so glory and rank fall to his share.
“You two are only moved by what excites your senses/passions, and only indulge in licentious, endangering your lives and natures. Listen to me. Repent in the morning, and by the evening you will have already gained the wage that will support you.”
Chow and Mu said, “Long ago we knew it and made our choice. It was not necessary for us to wait for your instructions to enlighten us.
“It is very difficult to preserve life, and quite easy to come by one’s death. Yet who would think of awaiting death, which comes so easily, on account of the difficulty of preserving life?
“You value proper conduct and righteousness in order to excel before others, and you do violence to your feelings and nature in striving for glory. That to us seems worse than death.
“Our only fear is that, in our wish to gaze our fill at all the beauties of this one life and to exhaust all the pleasures of the present years, we will not be hungry enough to drinking what we delight in, or we will not be strong enough to revel with attractive women. We do not have the time to trouble about bad reputations or mental dangers.
“Thus, it is by all means shameful for you to argue with us and disturb our minds merely because you surpass others in the ability to govern, and try and allure us with promises of glory and appointments.
“But now we will pose a question to you:
“If someone knows how to regulate what is external, they will not necessarily become regulated, and the person still must toil and labor. But if someone knows how to regulate internals, they will go all right, and the heart/mind will obtain peace and rest.
“Your system of regulating the external will do temporarily and for a single kingdom, but it is not in harmony with the human heart. Our method of regulating internals can be extended to the whole universe, and make it so that there will be no [need for] princes and ministers.
“We always wanted to propagate this doctrine of ours, and now you would teach us yours!”
Tzu Chan was at a loss for words.
Later, he saw Teng Hsi and told him about what happened.
Teng Hsi said, “You have been living with enlightened men, and did not even know it! Who says you are wise? ” …
A man from Sung spent three years carving a mulberry leaf out of jade for the prince. It looked identical to a real mulberry leaf, down to its glossiness, shape, color, proportion, and symmetry. The government rewarded his skill with great sums of money.
Lieh Tzu heard about this and remarked, “If it took Nature three years at a time to make a single leaf, then there would be very few trees with leaves on them. The sage should not rely on human science and skill as much as he does on the carrying on of the Way.”
Lieh Tzu was poor and hungry, prompting a stranger to tell Yang of Cheng, "Lieh Yu-K’ou is a scholar who possesses the Way. He lives within your Excellency’s dominion. And yet, he's dirt poor. People might start thinking that you have no liking for scholars.”
Upon hearing this, Tzu Yang sent an official allowance of grain to him. But Lieh Tzu bowed to the messengers and declined the gift--promting his wife to later complain. “I thought the wife and family of a man of the Way are supposed to live a life of ease and pleasure. And here you are, hungry, and declining grain sent by the Minister. I suppose you'll call that 'Destiny!'"
Lieh Tzu smiled and replied, “The Minister doesn't know anything about me. He sent me grain after hearing someone else's suggestion. He could've just as easily punished me becasue of someone else's suggestion.”
Later on, the people rebelled against Tzu Yang. They killed him, along with many of his allies.
Mr. Shih of Lu had two sons: a scholar and a soldier. The scholar found in his accomplishments the means of ingratiating himself with the Marquis of Ch’i, who engaged him as tutor to the young princes. The soldier proceeded to Ch’u, and won favor with the King of that State by his military talents, and the King was so well pleased that he installed him at the head of his troops. Thus, both of them succeeded in enriching their family and shedding luster on their kinsfolk.
Now, a certain Mr. Meng, the neighbor of Mr. Shih, also had two sons who followed the selfsame professions but were straitened by poverty. Envying the affluence of the Shih family, Mr. Meng called at his neighbor’s house, and wanted to know the secret of their rapid rise in the world.
The two brothers readily gave him the desired information, whereupon the eldest son immediately set off for Ch’in, hoping that his cultural attainments would recommend him to the King of that State. But the King said, “At the present moment all the feudal princes are struggling to outbid one another in power, and the great essential is to keep up a large army. If I tried to govern my State on the lines of benevolence and righteousness, ruin and annihilation would be the outcome!”
So saying, he had the unfortunate man castrated, and turned him away.
The second son, meanwhile, had gone to Wei, hoping that his military knowledge would stand him in good stead. But the Marquis of Wei said to himself, “Mine is a weak state hedged in by powerful [bordering] ones. My method of preserving tranquility is to show subservience to the larger states and to conciliate the lesser ones. If I were to rely on armed force, I could only expect utter destruction. I must not allow this man to depart unscathed, or he may find his way to some other state and be a terrible thorn in my side.”
So, without more ado, he cut off his feet and sent him back to Lu.
On their return, the whole family fell to beating their breasts in despair, and uttered imprecations on Mr. Shih.
Mr. Shih, however, said, “Success consists in hitting off the right moment, while missing it means failure. Your tao.htm was identical with ours, only the result was different. That is not due to any flaw in the action itself, but simply because it was not well timed.
“Nothing, in the ordering of this world, is either at all times right or at all times wrong. What formerly passed current may nowadays be rejected; what is now rejected may by and by come into use again. The fact that a thing is in use or in disuse forms no criterion whatever of right or wrong.
“There is no fixed rule for seizing opportunities, hitting off the right moment, or adapting oneself to circumstances; it is all a matter of *native wit. If you are deficient in that, you may possess the learning of a Confucius, or the strategical gifts of a Lu Shang, and yet you will remain poor/in trouble wherever you go.”
The Meng family was now in a more resigned frame of mind, and their indignation had subsided. “Yes, you are right,” they said, “please say no more about it.”
Lieh Tzu was traveling to Ch’i state. But on his way, he decided to turn back. On his way back, he encountered Po Hun Wu Jen, who asked him why he turned back.
Lieh Tzu replied, “Something scared me.”
“What?”
“Well, I just ate at ten inns, and they served me first at five of them.”
“So why does that scare you?”
Lieh Tzu explained, “When a person’s internal virtue is not solid, a certain presence emits from his body and goes towards people’s hearts. This will cause others to credit him in a certain way. And that can lead to problems. Inkeepers don't have much money and influence. They care about getting by financially. And they don;t have much to gain from me. If people like that esteem me so much as a customer, imaigne what'll happen when I encounter state officials. The Prince of Ch’i will appoint me to some position and try to keep me there.”
Po Hun Wu Jen replied, “Even if you don't go, there will be others who'll try to do the same thing.”
Later, Po Hun Wu Jen went to visit Lieh Tzu, and noticed visitors’ shoes near his home’s entrance. He stood there, and then left without saying a word. When someone informed Lieh Tzu about what had happened, he, with shoes in his hands, immediately ran barefoot after Po Hun Wu Jen and caught up to him.
“Master,” said Lieh Tzu said/ “SAfter coming all the way down here, why did you leave without saying anything to me?”
“Ah!” replied the other. “I told you earlier that people will try to employ you. They come because you can't stop them. If you insist on doing this, it your inner self will be wobbled, your interactions with them will be useless, and no one will be aware of that."
As Yang Chu traveled south to P’ei, he heard that Lao Tzu was traveling west towards Ch’in, and caught up with him near the town of Liang.
Lao Tzu, however, simply stood in the middle of the road, looked up at the sky, and with a sigh, remarked, “I used to think you were teachable, but now I am sensing you are not.”
Yang Chu didn't respond. He followed Lao Tzu to an inn, and humbly approached him, saying, “Master. Earlier, I wanted to ask you what you meant—but you walked on without providing me an opportunity. I waited out of respect. Now that you are available, I venture to ask what I've been doing wrong.”
Lao Tzu said, “You're arrogant and unapproachable. ‘The purest white is thought smirched, the fullest virtue seems less than enough.’”
Yang Chu then asked for Lao Tzu's instruction, and put it into practice.
Formerly, whenever Yang Chu arrived somewhere, an innkeeper would welcome him upon arrival and be there at his departure, and the owner would present him a mat while the owner’s wife would give him a towel and comb, and the other lodgers would resign him a mat or a place by the stove.
But afterwards, other people at the inn would struggle just so they could sit by him.
Duke Wen of Chin put an army into the field with the intention of attacking the Duke of Wei.
Observing this, Tzu Ch’u threw his head back and laughed aloud.
When he was asked the reason of his behavior, Tzu Ch’u replied, “I was thinking of the experience of a neighbor of mine, who was escorting his wife on a visit to her own family. On the way, he came across a woman tending silkworms, who attracted him greatly, and he got to talking with her. Happening to look up, what should he see but his own wife also receiving the attentions of an admirer! It was the recollection of this incident that made me laugh.”
The Duke saw the point, and without delay turned home with his army. Before he got back, an invading force had already crossed his northern frontier! …
He who pursues a course towards the accomplishment of his own desires while not considering the distress it will cause to others, in the belief that it will not occur to others to do the same, will in all probability find himself circumstanced as above.
Ch’i Yung could spot a robber just by looking at his eyes. The Marquis of Chin hired him to find robbers--after inspecting thousands of them, he never missed a single one.
The Marquis told Wen Tzu of Chao about him, saying, “My state used to be infested with robbers. I have a man who's singlehandedly eliminating them. Because of him, I don't need police."
The other replied, “If your Highness relies on a detective to catch robber, you'll never get rid of them. But someone will get rid of Ch’i Yung."
Meanwhile, a band of robbers plotted to do just that. And one day, they did.
The Marquis of Chin was greatly alarmed, and immediately sent for Wen Tzu. “You were right. Ch’i Yung is dead. What should I do now to catch robbers?”
“In Chou,” replied Wen Tzu, “we have a proverb: ‘Search not the ocean-depths for fish: calamity comes upon those who pry into hidden mysteries.’ If you want to be quit of robbers, the best thing your Highness can do is to promote the worthy to office. Let them instruct and enlighten their sovereign on the one hand, and reform the masses below them on the other. If once the people acquire a sense of shame, you will not find them turning into robbers.”
The Marquis then appointed Sui Hui to be Prime Minister, and all the robbers fled to the Ch’in State.
Duke Mu of Ch’in said to the horse expert Po Lo, “You're now advanced in years. Is there a relative of yours I can hire as your eventual replacement?"
Po Lo replied, “A good horse can be picked out by its general build and appearance. Then there's the truly great horse--the type that can raise no dust and leave no tracks. Spotting a horse like that is something else. Something evasive and fleeting, elusive as thin air. My sons can spot a good horse--but not a truly great one. I do know of one person who can pick horses the way I do. My friend Chiu-fang Kao, a fuel and vegetable merchant.”
Duke Mu then hired Chiu-fang Kao to find a horse. Three months later, he told the Duke that he had found one, and that is was in Sha-ch’iu. When the Duke asked him what kind of horse it was, he responded, “Oh, it's a brown mare.” But when someone was sent to go get it, the animal turned out to be a black stallion!
Much displeased, the Duke sent for Po Lo, “Your friend can't even tell if a horse is male or female, or if it's dark or light. What can he possibly know about telling a great horse from a good one?”
Po Lo heaved a sigh of satisfaction. “Has he really got as far as that? He must be my superior. What Kao keeps in view is the spiritual mechanism. In making sure of the essential, he forgets the homely details. Intent on the inward qualities, he loses sight of the external. He sees what he wants to see, and not what he doesn't want to see; the things he ought to look at, and not those that don't need to be looked at. So clever a judge of horses is Kao, that he has it in him to judge something better than horses.”
The horse turned out to be a truly great one.
Niu Ch’ueh was traveling from the Highlands to Han-Tan, and while passing through a quiet and vacant area in Ou-Sha, encountered some criminals who robbed him of all he had—his clothes, equipment, carriage, and horses. But he kept on walking with a calm and unworried look on his face, as if nothing had happened.
The criminals, quite bewildered by his behavior, caught up to him and asked about it. Niu Ch’ueh said, “The superior person won;t risk his life for mere possessions. After all, possessions are simply meant to preserve life.”
The criminals discussed the matter. Recognizing the man's wisdom, they figured that he'd end up becoming inflential, and have the Lord of Chao send the police after them. So they chased after him and killed him.
A man from Yen heard about this and told his clan, “If you run into criminals, don't do what Niu Ch’ueh of the Highlands did.”
Days later, his brother was going to Ch’in, and as he arrived below the passes, he also encountered criminals. Thinking about what his brother told him, he tried to defend his possessions—and in doing so, he took a beating at the hands of the criminals. As they left with his possessions, he humbly pleaded have them back.
The criminals, full of anger, remarked, “We let you live—and yet now have the gall to come after us like this? Your tracks will probably lead the authorities to us.”
So they killed the man, and injured some of his companions to boot.
During Yuan Ching Mu's travels, he ran out of food, and was on the verge of starving. A man saw him, and brought over a bowl of rice-gruel. After eating a little of it, Yuan Ching Mu looked at the man and asked, “Who are you?”
“Ch’iu of Hu-Fu.”
“Ah!” said Yuan Ching Mu. “Aren't you the robber Ch’iu? I can't eat your food! I'm an honest man.”
He then attmpeted to vomit up the food--and in trying to do so, he ended up dying.
A man claimed to know the Way of immortality, and the Lord of Yen sent a messenger to interview him. However, the messenger wasted time, and the man died before his arrival.
When the messenger returned, the Lord of Yen was furious, and sentenced him to death. But his favorite remarked, “People are most concerned with preserving life. So if a man lost his own life, how could he have really shared the secret of immortality with you?
Accordingly, the Lord did not execute the messenger.
Another man, one Ch’i Tzu, had also hoped to learn the Way of immortality, and was upset when he learned that the man who claimed to possess the secret had died.
Fu Tzu heard this and said, “He wants to learn how to be immortal, and now he's upset that the teacher of that secret has died! He's obviously confused about what he needs to learn.”
Hu Tzu heard this and said, “Fu Tzu is mistaken. Someone might know the principles of a skill without being able to apply them, or apply them without knowing them.
“Once, a great mathematician from Wei transmitted his secrets to his sons shortly before his death. Though the sons memorized what he said, they couldn't apply the information. Another person got the information from them, and was able to effectively apply it like the father had done.
“And thus, it is indeed is possible for a mortal man to have known the secret of immortality.”
Every New Year's Day, the good people of Han-Tan gave their Governor Chien Tzu pigoens. And he, pleased by that, rewarded the donors.
A stranger asked Chien Tzu about the the meaning of the custom, and the latter explained: “We release living creatures on New Year’s Day as a sign of our benevolence.”
The stranger replied, “But the people try to catch as many pigeons as possible. And that must cause many of them to get killed. If you really want to let the birds live, it would be best to stop people from catching them.”
During a banquet held by Tien of the Ch’i State, many of the guest presented their host with various gifts of fish and game.
He looked at them approvingly, and remarked, “Nature is indeed generous to man. It makes the five kinds of grain for us to grow, and creates the fish and fowl for our benefit.”
All of the guests applauded, except for one young man of the Pao family, who came forward and said, “I respectfully disagree with you, Mr. Tien. None of the world’s living creatures—including our own species—is necessarily favored over the others. Though one might master or pray on another, it is only by attributes of cunning and strength. None are produced solely for the benefit of the others.
“Though man catches and eats certain creatures he deems suitable for food, how can it be concluded that Nature creates them solely for man’s use? After all, certain insects suck man’s blood, and certain predoators eat man’s flesh. Should wel also conclude that Nature created man merely for the sake of mosquitoes and gnats, or tigers and wolves?”
An official from Ch’en went to Lu for official business. While there, he made a social visit to Shu Sun.
Shu Sun said, “We have a Sage in our state.”
The Ch’en man replied, “You must be talking about Confucius.”
“Yes.”
“How can you be so sure he's a Sage?”
“Well,” Shu Sun replied, “His disciple Yen Hui said that Confucius can release his heart/mind, and use his body [like his heart/mind].”
The Ch’en man then said, “We also have a Sage in our state. Have you heard of him?”
“Who?"
“Keng Sang Tzu. He has mastered Lao Tzu’s Way, and he can see with his ears and listen with his eyes.”
The Marquis of Lu soon came to hear about this Sage, and became so curious that he sent him a royal invitation and brought him to Lu. When Keng Sang Tzu arrived, the Marquis respectfully asked about the skill.
“It's a rumor,” Keng Sang Tzu replied. “I can;t make my ears see and my eyes hear. However, I can see and hear without my eyes or ears.
“That's even greater,” said the Marquis. “What kind of Way is that? You must tell me about it.”
“My body,” explained Keng Sang Tzu, “is in harmony with my heart. My heart is in harmony with my energies. My energies are in harmony with my spirit. My spirit is in harmony with all and none. I can experience the smallest thing or the slightest sound, what is very distant, or what is right on my eyebrows or eyelashes. Nothing is outside my awareness. I'm not sure whether I perceive it with my senses, body, heart/mind, or organs/gut. I suppose it's just a pure experience of things.”
The Marquis of Lu was pleased. He later told Confucius about it, and Confucius just smiled without saying a word.
A traveler was drawing for the King of Ch’i, and the King asked him, “What is the most difficult thing to draw?”
“Dogs and horses are the most difficult,” was the reply.
“Then what is the easiest?” the King asked.
“Devils and demons are the easiest,” replied the traveler. “People know dogs and horses. They see them night and day right in front of them. There is no room for any distortions when drawing them. Thus, they are the most difficult to draw.
“As for devils and demons, they have no shape, and nobody sees them. Thus, they are very easy to draw.”
Li K’uei warned his guards to the right and left gates of his camp, “Be prudent and alert. Our enemies might come at anytime to attack.” He continuously repeated this, but the enemies did not come, and both groups of guards became tired, neglected their duties, and lost faith in Li K’uei.
After several months, the Ch’ins invaded them and almost obliterated the entire army. This is the calamity of being faithless.
Mr. Kuo of Ch’i State was very rich, while Mr. Hsiang of Sung State was very poor. Mr. Hsiang traveled from Sung to Ch’i and asked the Mr. Kuo for the secret of his prosperity.
Mr. Kuo told him, “’Tis by my being a good thief. During my firt year of thievery, I had just enough; during the second year, I had ample; during the third year, I reaped a great harvest; and over time, I found myself the owner of entire villages and districts.”
Mr. Hsiang was overjoyed; he understood the word “thief” in its literal sense, but he did not understand the true tao.htm of becoming a thief. Accordingly, he climbed over walls and broke into houses, grabbing everything he could see or lay hands upon. But before very long his thefts brought him into trouble, and he was stripped even of what he had previously possessed.
Thinking that Mr. Kuo had basely deceived him, Mr. Hsiang went to him with a bitter complaint.
Mr. Kuo said, “Tell me, how did you set about being a thief?”
And on learning from Mr. Hsiang what had happened, Mr. Kao cried out, “Alas and alack! You have been brought to this pass because you went the wrong tao.htm to work. Now let me put you on the right track. We all know that Heaven has its seasons, and that earth has its riches. Well, the things that I steal are the riches of Heaven and Earth, each in their season—the fertilizing rainwater from the clouds, and the natural products of mountain and meadow-land. Thus I grow my grain and ripen my crops, build my walls and construct my tenements. From the dry land I steal winged and four-footed game, from the rivers I steal fish and turtles. There is nothing [I get] that I do not steal. For corn and grain, clay and wood, birds and beasts, fishes and turtles are all products of Nature. How can I claim them as mine? Yet, stealing in this way from Nature, I bring on myself no retribution. But gold, jade, and precious stones, stores of grain, silk stuffs, and other kinds of property, are things accumulated by men, not bestowed upon us by Nature. So who can complain if he gets into trouble by stealing them?”
Mr. Hsiang, in a state of great perplexity, and in fear of being led astray a second time by Mr. Kuo, went off to consult Tung Kuo, a man of learning.
Tung Kuo said to him, “Are you not already a thief in respect of your own body? You are stealing the harmony of the Yin and the Yang in order to keep alive and to maintain your bodily form. How much more, then, are you a thief with regard to external possessions! Assuredly, Heaven and Earth cannot be dissociated from the myriad objects of Nature. To claim any one of these as your own betokens confusion of thought. Mr. Kuo’s thefts are carried out in a spirit of justice, and therefore bring no retribution. But your thefts were carried out in a spirit of self-seeking and therefore landed you in trouble. Those who take possession of property, whether public or private, are thieves. Those who abstain from taking property, public or private, are also thieves. For no one can help possessing a body, and no one can help acquiring some property or other which cannot be got rid of with the best will in the world. Such thefts are unconscious thefts. The great principle of Heaven and earth is to treat public property as such and private property as such. Knowing this principle, which of us is a thief, and at the same time which of us is not a thief?”
A salesman from Ch’u was selling shields and halberds.
In praising the shields, he said, “My shields are so solid that nothing can penetrate them.”
Then, when presenting his halberds, he said, “My halberds are so sharp that they can penetrate anything.”
In response to this, someone asked, “What would happen if you used your halberds to pierce through your shields?”
The man had no reply. Indeed, impenetrable shields and absolutely penetrative halberds cannot both exist at the same time.
There was a horse tied up in a narrow street—and it kicked every person that walked near it. Nobody knew what to do, and when they saw Lao Tzu approaching, they watched with curiosity to see how he would handle the situation.
Lao Tzu spotted the horse, paused for a second to deliberate, and then turned around and walked down another street.
If streams dry up, the fish come together in an effort to try to keep themselves wet. When people see this, they have admiration for the cooperation and compassion. However, wouldn’t it have been far better for the fish to have sought safety earlier in deep waters?
In a small village in China, an old man asked a young boy, “What's closer: Capital City, or the Sun?”
The reply was, “The Sun.”
“Why do you say that?” the man inquired.
“Because,” explained the boy, “I can see the Sun from here, but I can’t see Capital City.”
Amused by the boy’s response, the man took the boy to Capital City bazaar the next day to share his response with a group of others. He gathered a small crowd, and then said to the boy, “Tell us, which is closer: Capital City, or the Sun?”
The boy immediately answered, “Capital City.”
Bewildered, the man asked, “Didn’t you say yesterday that the Sun was closer?”
“I did,” the boy replied.
“So why did you change your answer?”
“Well,” explained the boy, “today I've seen a lot of people from Capital City. And yet, in my entire life, I've never once seen anyone from the sun!”
A local man ran a clock store, and every day, a certain young fellow came into the store briefly, looked inside, and left.
One day, the clock store owner asked the young man about his ___
“Well,” replied the latter, “I am the town timekeeper, and it is my job to ring the town square bell at noon. I gauge it by the position of the sun, but to be more accurate, I come in here and check your clock.”
“What!” the clock merchant replied. “I set my clocks based on when I hear the town square bell ring!”
One day, a wealthy man noticed a young merchant resting outside, and immediately demanded that he move. “But I'm just sitting outside on public ground,” replied the other. “Why should I move?”
“You're sitting in my tree’s shade,” was the response. “I cared after my tree for many years. You don;t have the right to use its shade."
“Fine,” said the merchant, “I'll buy the rights from you. How much do you want?”
Eager to make money on such a unique type of transaction, the man said, “A hundred dollars.”
The merchant agreed and paid the man, and they signed a contract that transferred possession of the tree’s shade.
The merchant, however, soon began taking full advantage of his new asset—and since the tree’s shade moved during the day, he followed it as it went to the wealthy man’s yard, and even brought his friend’s with him.
The wealthy man was greatly annoyed, but didn't speak up. Then one day, the merchant and his friends followed the shade right into the wealthy man’s home! Infuriated, the man tried to kick them out. The merchant immediately presented his ownership papers and responded, “This is my shade. I'm on my property.”
Enraged even further, the wealthy man took the merchant to court. However, the court honored the contract, and ruled that the merchant wasn't in the wrong.
The merchant continued using the shade as before, and after a few more days, the offered to buy it back. “I'll pay you two hundred dollars," he said. "Double the price you paid for it. How does that sound?”
The merchant refused. And the next day, he again brought his friends into a part of the man's house under the tree's shade. Greatly frustrated, the wealthy man said, “OK. I'll give you three hundred dollars."
"No," was the response.
"Name your price."
The merchant demanded five thousand dollars, and the wealthy man had no choice but to pay him.
One day, an angel came up to a man and said, “Good man, today I will grant you a wish. I know that you love traveling—and so, I will take you to any two places you want.”
The man, eager to see somewhere truly unique, said, “I want to see Heaven and Hell.”
The angel then showed the man Hell. The man looked, and saw rows of people seated near a large table of food. But everyone had meter long chopsticks, and the people, unable to feed themselves, looked emaciated and starving.
Then the angel took the man to heaven. The man was surprised to see a very similar scene, with people seated near a table packed with food, and holding meter long chopsticks. This time, however, the people looked healthy and robust, and used their own chopsticks to feed their neighbors on the other side of the table.
Long ago, a governor was travelling, and his drunk servant accidentally vomited in his carriage. A nearby official immediately shouted at him and asked the ruler, “Should I fire this man?”
“No,” the ruler responded. “I know him very well, and he's a very honorable and competent man. Firing him would not only put him out of work, it would damage his reputation. His offense was pretty harmless.
The official, surprised at the ruler’s lenience, nevertheless complied with his demand.
The servant, meanwhile, was incredibly relieved, and from then on, was intensely loyal to the ruler. Months later, while he visited his native village, he discovered that a group of savages planned an attack on the city he served. Upon hearing this, he immediately rushed back and told the ruler. And when the barbarians invaded several days later, they were easily defeated. This not only saved the city, it also earned the ruler a reputation for having wide-ranging knowledge.
A well-known government official and scholar was assigned to govern a very primitive area, where the region’s natives lived side-by-side with new immigrants.
Shortly after the official arrived there, a young native man from the area approached him and asked him to look at some of his writings. The official looked them over and expressed his approval, even though the work was not particularly great, and then offered some advice.
Greatly elated and appreciative, the young man thanked him and left.
An assistant to the official had also read the work, and when the young man left, he remarked to the official, “That work was nothing special, so why did you praise it?”
The official replied, “We must take into account the fact that the young man is a native of this very primitive region—his family is probably all illiterate, and he surely had to go to great lengths to even learn to read and write. And he showed a lot of poise by presenting his work to me. It wouldn’t be suitable for me to judge so harshly, and start off with all criticism. With my encouragement and suggestions, he will no doubt continue his studies with a pure heart, and his example will also influence the other natives of this village to learn. And this can only strengthen the community.
“So why I should severely criticize, when just being appreciative of the good points can benefit so much, and can also make my suggestions be accepted?”
At one point during the third century BC, China was in chaos after the government was overthrown. Armies plundered and looted, and soldiers took and hoarded precious metals, jewels, and other items of value.
In the midst of all of this, a commissioner gathered information like maps and census data, and a clerk gathered grains and non-perishable food. Not long afterwards, the region went into civil war. The commissioner used his information to gain victories and win a high promotion. And the clerk had plenty of food during a time when there was hardly any, and was able to sell everythign little by little for very high prices.
In the eighth century, a city’s new governor changed the punishment for crimes committed by government officials: instead of having them caned, he made them wear a green turban--a symbol that a man’s wife is an adulterer. Not long afterwards, the number of legal proceedings on government officials plummeted to almost zero.
A general attacked the Emperor, and was about to kill him. The Emperor’s prime minister and other officials wanted to stop him as soon as possible, knowing that if they didn't, he would start a military campaign to seize power.
The general was a great military strategist and a powerful man, and also had one thousand devoted and mighty bodyguards surrounding him at all times.
So a clever commissioner announced a reward to be given to the bodyguards for their past service to the Emperor. However, he placed the reward miles away from the bodyguards’ current position. Once the reward was announced, almost all the bodyguards left the city to collect it. The Prime Minster then got whatever men he could find, and attacked and captured teh general, easily overcoming whatever bodygaurds remaained there.
A ruler’s servant broke the law, and planned to escape to a nearby state.
His friend asked him, “What makes you think you will be safe in that other state?”
The servant explained, “Once I went along with our ruler to that state. When they received us, the ruler of that state treated me very well, and even remarked that we were like brothers. He seemed like an honorable man, so I am going there to seek safety.”
The friend remarked, “Ah!—you are surely making a mistake! Think about it. We are in a strong state, and when you visited, their ruler noticed you were influential to our ruler. He treated you well merely in order to in order to be on friendly terms with our king, due to his fear of our state’s power.
“In other words, his motivation was his state’s interest, and not some special kinship he had with you. So if you go to him to seek safety, odds are he will have you arrested and taken back to our ruler.”
During the sixth century, roads had dirt signposts that marked distances. Realizing that the markers were expensive to maintain and build, a governor decided to replace them with durable and easy-to-plant trees. which not only could take the place of the markers, but also would provide shade for travelers to rest under, and would create an opportunity for merchants to sell refreshments and goods near them.
One night, two drunk men got into a fistfight in front of many bystanders. Afterwards, each man went to his home.
As one of them slept, an intruder broke into his house and chopped off his feet with an axe! As the man cried out in pain, he accused the man he had fought with earlier that night as being the culprit. The man’s wife yelled for help, and though assistance soon came, the man bled to death shortly later.
His wife, in tears, reported the murder to the police. They immediately apprehended the man the victim had fought earlier that night, and put him in prison, where he was questioned by the city’s very intelligent mayor.
Later, the mayor told the murdered man’s wife that the suspect they had was surely guilty. Afterwards, however, the mayor sent some of his people to stakeout the wife. Days later, they arrested her and a monk. And after hours of questioning, the wife and monk eventually confessed that they were having an affair, and that they were the ones who planned and committed the murder.
One of the mayor’s assistants curiously asked him, “How did you know to suspect the man’s wife?”
The mayor explained, “Three reasons. First, a drunken fistfight is rarely ever enough to motivate a man to commit murder. But for someone who was already planning murder, an incident like that seems like a good cover up. Secondly, the wife’s crying over the murder seemed fake. Her expression looked mixed. And finally, her husband was drenched in blood, but she hardly had any on her.”