The wind said, ‘True, I come hurtling along from the North Ocean and disappear off to the South Ocean. However, it is true that, if you point your finger at me, you are greater than me, or if you stamp on me, you also win. But it is also true that I can bring down great trees and bowl over great houses; only I can do this. Therefore, the one who can overcome all the small problems is in truth the great victor. To have a great victory, why, this is what a sage does.’
Confucius was travelling in Kuang and the men of Sung encompassed him with a number of rings of soldiers,63 but he went on singing to his lute with no hesitation. Tzu Lu went in to see him and said, ‘How is it, Master, that you are so contented?’
‘Come!’ said Confucius, ‘I shall explain to you. For ages I’ve done my best to avoid difficulties. I have failed, but that’s fate. For a long time I have tried to be given an appointment. I have not been given one, such are the times. In Yao and Shun’s time, there was no one in the whole wide world who had difficulties, but it was not because of knowledge that this happened. In Chieh and Chou’s time, no one in the whole wide world succeeded, but this was not as a result of lack of understanding. This was certainly a sign of the times. Those who travel the waters are not afraid of snakes or dragons: this is the courage of fishermen. To travel overland and not to tremble upon meeting rhinoceroses or tigers, this is the courage of hunters. To see swords clash and to regard death as a return, this is the courage of the bold soldier. To know that hardship is part of life, to know that success depends upon the times and to confront great disasters with fortitude, this is the courage of the sage. Be patient, and my fate will then become clear to you.’
Not long after, the leader of the troops came and humbly said, ‘We thought you were Yang Huo and so we surrounded you. Now we know you are not, so we wish to apologize and retreat.’
Kung Sun Lung64 asked Mou of Wei,65 ‘When I was younger, I learned the Tao of the earlier kings, and as I grew up, I saw clearly the significance of benevolence and righteousness. I brought together difference and similarity, discerned hardness and whiteness, what was certain and what was not, what was possible and what was not. I laboured at understanding the Hundred Schools of Philosophy66 and spoke out against their teachings. I thought I had understanding of all things. Now, however, I have heard the words of Chuang Tzu, and to my surprise I am disturbed by them. Is it that my knowledge is not as good as his, or is it that his understanding is greater? I find I can’t even open my mouth, so I ask you what I can do.’
Duke Tzu Mou leaned forward, sighed heavily, looked to Heaven, smiled and said, ‘Dear Sir, have you not heard of the frog in the broken-down old well? He said to the turtle of the Eastern Ocean, “I have a great time! I leap on to the well wall, or I go down in the well, stepping along the broken bricks. When I enter the water, I float with it supporting my chin, feet up; on the mud, I dig my feet deep in. I look about me at the larvae, crabs and tadpoles and there is none that is as good as I. To have complete control of the waters of the gorge and not to wish to move but to enjoy the old well, this is great! Dear Sir, why don’t you come down and see me sometime?”
‘The turtle of the Eastern Ocean tried, but before he had put his left foot into the well, his right knee was stuck. At this he paused, shuffled out backwards and then began to speak about the ocean. “A distance such as a thousand miles doesn’t come close to describing its length, nor a depth of a thousand leagues describe its deepness. In the time of Yu, nine years in every ten there were floods, but this did not raise the ocean an inch. In the time of Tang, seven years in every eight there were droughts, but this did not lower the ocean shore an inch. Nothing changes these waters, neither in the short term nor in the long term; they neither recede nor advance, grow larger nor smaller. This is the great happiness of the Eastern Ocean.” When the frog in the broken-down old well heard this, he was utterly amazed and astonished; he was utterly astonished, dumbfounded and at a loss.
‘For someone whose understanding can’t handle such knowledge, such debates about right and wrong, if they persist in trying to see through the words of Chuang Tzu, it is like a mosquito trying to carry a mountain on its back, or a scuttle bug rushing as fast as the Yellow River. This is plainly impossible. For someone whose understanding cannot handle such knowledge, such words of subtlety, all they are capable of is gaining some short-term reward. They are like the frog in the broken-down well, are they not? But Chuang Tzu is not planted firmly in the Yellow Springs of the Underworld, nor leaping, jumping into the stratosphere. There is neither south nor north: he scatters freely to the four points of the compass, and disappears into the depth. There is neither east nor west: starting in the darkest depth, he comes back to the great path. Then you, Sir, you in your astonishment try to sift his views to criticize them, or trawl through them in order to
