The Outer Chapters of Chuang Tzu
Les Chapitres
extérieurs de Tchoang-tzeu
(English)
Author: Zhuangzi
(Chuang Tzu) (3rd Century BCE)
French Translator:
Léon Wieger 1913
Translator/Editor: Nik Marcel 2017
English translated from French.
Copyright
© 2018 Nik Marcel
All
rights reserved.
A Bilingual (Dual-Language) Project
2Language Books
The Outer Chapters of Chuang Tzu
Chapter 1
Webbed Feet:
A. A membrane connecting the toes, or a
supernumerary finger, have been produced by the body, it is true, but in excess
of what should normally be.
The same is true of an excrescence, or a tumour.
Although stemming from the body, these superfluities are against nature.
The same ought to be said of the various theories
on goodness and fairness (virtues) born of the mind, and of the tastes that
emanate from the intestines (from the temperament) of each one of us.
These things are not natural, but artificial. They
do not conform to the principle.
Yes, in the same way that the membrane that
connects the toes of a man, and the supernumerary finger of his hand, hamper
natural physical movements, the tastes emitted by his intestines, and the
virtues imagined by his mind, hamper his natural moral functioning.
The perversion of the sense of sight resulted in
too many colours. The painter Li-tchou is a good example of this.
The perversion of the sense of hearing resulted in
too many sounds. The musician Cheu-k’oang is a good example of this.
The theories on goodness and fairness produced
those renowned hunters — Tseng-chenn, Cheu-ts’iou and others — who were
celebrated by the flutes and drums of the whole empire. Such theories are
unrealisable utopias.
The abuse of argumentation produced those men —
Yang-tchou, Mei-ti and others — who invented reasons and weaved arguments, like
a stack of tiles or a braid of ropes; for which to argue over the essential and
the non-essential, over the similarities and the differences, was a mind game.
These are the Sophists and rhetoricians, who exhausted themselves through
effort and unnecessary words.
All this is nothing more than a vain excess,
contrary to truth, which involves the retention of the natural, to the
exclusion of the artificial.
One must not violate nature, even on the pretext of
rectifying it.
May the complex remain complex, and the simple
simple. May the long remain long, and the short short.
Hold back from wanting to lengthen the legs of the
duck, or from wanting to shorten those of the crane.
To try to do it would cause them suffering, which
is the characteristic mark of all that is against nature, while pleasure is the
mark of the natural.
B. From these principles, we have that the
artificial goodness and fairness of Confucius are not man’s natural sentiments,
for their acquisition and their use are accompanied by difficulty and
suffering.
Those who have webbed feet or too may toes suffer —
when they move — from their physical deficit or their physical excess.
Nowadays, those who advocate for goodness and
fairness, suffer when they see the course of things, and when they fight
against the human passions.
No, goodness and fairness are not natural sentiments;
otherwise there would be more of it in the world, which, for going on eighteen
centuries, has been nothing but fight and noise.
The use of the French curve and the ruler, of the
compass and the set square, produce regular shapes at the expense of natural
elements. The ropes that fasten them, the glue that binds them, and the glaze
that covers them do violence to the material in the products of art.
The rhythm in rituals and in ceremonial music, the
official declamations on goodness and fairness destined to influence the heart
of men, all this is against nature, is artificial, is pure convention.
Nature governs the world. By virtue of this nature,
curved beings have become such, without intervention from the French curve;
straight beings have become such, without the ruler being employed; the round
and the square have become such, without the compass and the set square.
Everything fits together in nature, without ropes,
without glue, and without glaze. Everything becomes, without violence, as a
result of a kind of call or irresistible attraction.
Beings do not become aware of the why of their
becoming. They develop without knowing how, the principle of their becoming and
of their development being intrinsic. Such was the case historically. Such is
the case now. It is an invariable law.
Then why purport to tie up men, and bind them to
each other, by the artificial bonds of goodness and fairness, by rituals and
ceremonial music, and by the ropes, glue, and glaze of the political
philosophers? Why not let them follow their nature? Why try to make them forget
this nature?
Since the emperor Chounn (around the year 2255)
confused the empire with his false formula ‘goodness and fairness’, human
nature is in difficulty, smothered by the artificial, by the conventional.
C. Yes, since Chounn until the present day, men
follow various charms, not their own nature.
The common people sacrifice themselves for money;
the scholarly sacrifice themselves for reputation; the nobles sacrifice
themselves for the glory of their empire; the saints sacrifice themselves for
everyone.
Famous people of all types all have this in common,
that they have acted against nature, and have thus ruined themselves. What does
the diversity of the method matter, if the inevitable result is the same?
Two shepherds who had lost their sheep — the one
for studying, the other for playing — suffered the same loss, in the end.
Pai-i perished for the love of glory, and Tchee on
account of banditry — different motive, identical result.
However, the official history says of Pai-i that he
was a holy man, because he devoted himself to goodness and fairness. On the
contrary, it says of Tchee that he was a common man, because he perished
through love of gain.
Ultimately, the end to which they go having been the
same, there is no need to use the distinction holy and common.
Both have performed the same affront to their
nature. Both have equally perished. Then why praise Pai-i and reprimand Tchee?
D. No, I will not say of the one who has betrayed
his nature by practicing goodness and fairness, he was equal to Tseng-chenn and
Cheu-ts’iou.
No, I will not say of the one who has applied
himself to the study of flavours, or sounds, or colours, he was celebrated like
U-eull, like Cheu-k’oang, or like Li-tchou.
No, man is not good because he practices artificial
goodness and fairness. He is good through the exercise of his natural
faculties.
The one who follows his natural appetites makes
good use of taste. The one who listens only to oneself makes good use of
hearing. The one who looks only at oneself makes good use of sight.
Those who look at and listen to others inevitably
take something of the manner and judgements of others, to the detriment of the
integrity of their natural sense.
From the moment they have strayed from their
natural rectitude, whether they be renowned bandits like Tchee or saints like
Pai-i, matters little to me. In my eyes, they are nothing more than deviants.
Since, for me, the rule is conformity or non-conformity to nature.
To me, artificial goodness and fairness are as
odious as vice and depravity.
Chapter 2
Trained Horses:
A. Horses naturally have hooves capable of
trampling the snow, and a coat impenetrable to the cold wind. They graze on
grass, drink water, run and jump. This is their true nature. They are not
interested in palaces and dormitories.
When Pai-lao, the first official horseman, had
declared that he knew how to treat horses; when he had taught men to brand, to
clip, to shoe, to bridle, to hobble, and to corral these poor animals, then two
or three out of every ten horses died prematurely, as a result of the violence
done to their nature.
When, the art of dressage still progressing, horses
were forced to suffer hunger and thirst to toughen them up; when they were
forced to gallop in formation to harden them; when the bit tormented their
mouths; when the riding whip lashed their rumps; then, out of every ten horses,
five died prematurely, as a result of this violence against nature.
When the first official potter had announced that he
knew how to treat clay, from this material were made a certain type of vase on
the wheel, and a certain type of brick in the mould.
When the first official carpenter had declared that
he knew how to treat wood, this material was given particular forms, by means
of the curve or the line.
Is that really treating horses, clay, and wood
according to their nature? Certainly not! And yet, through the ages, men have
praised the first official horseman, the first official potter, and the first
official carpenter, for their genius and their inventions.
B. Folk similarly praise — for their genius and
their inventions — those who devise the form of modern government. It is an
error, in my view.
The condition of men was entirely different under
the good sovereigns of antiquity. Their people followed their nature, and
nothing but their nature.
All men uniformly obtained their clothes through
weaving, and their foods through ploughing. They formed a whole without
divisions, governed by the single natural law.
In these times of perfect naturalism, men walked
where it pleased them and let their eyes roam in complete liberty: no ritual
controlled walking and looking.
In the mountains, there were neither paths nor
trenches. Over water, there was neither boats nor bridges. All beings were born
and lived communally.
Birds and quadrupeds lived off the grass that grew
spontaneously.
Man not doing them any harm, the animals let
themselves be led by them without distrust. The birds were not concerned that
folk looked in their nest.
Yes, in these times of perfect naturalism, man
lived with animals as brothers and sisters, on an equal footing with all
beings.
Fortunately, the distinction rendered so famous by
Confucius, between the saint and the common man, was not known then. Equally
lacking in science, all men acted according to their nature. Equally without
ambition, all acted simply. In all, nature blossomed freely.
C. It was all over when the first saint appeared.
At the sight of him dancing and wriggling ritually;
upon hearing him talk at length on goodness and fairness; astonished, men
wondered whether they had not been mistaken until then.
Then came the intoxication of ceremonial music, and
the infatuation with ceremonies. Alas! The artificial prevailed over the
natural. The result being, peace and charity disappeared from the world.
Man waged war on animals, sacrificed for his
luxury. In order to make his offering vases, he subjected the wood to torture.
In order to make the ritual sceptres, he imposed cutting on jade.
On the pretext of goodness and equity, he violated
nature.
Rituals and ceremonial music ruined natural
movement. The rules of painting brought disorder to colours. The official scale
brought disorder to tones.
In summary, the court painters are guilty of
tormenting matter in order to carry out their works of art, and the saints are
detestable for substituting artificial goodness and fairness for the naturel.
Long ago, in the natural state, horses grazed on
grass and drank water. When they were content, they rubbed their necks against
one another. When they were angry, they turned around and started kicking.
Not knowing anything else, they were utterly simple
and natural.
However, when Pai-lao had harnessed them, they
became deceitful and cunning, out of hatred for the bit and the bridle. This
man is guilty of the crime of perverting horses.
In the time of the old emperor Ho-su, people
remained in their residences doing nothing, or wandered without knowing where
they were going. When they were full, they tapped on their bellies as a sign of
contentment.
Not knowing anything else, they were utterly simple
and natural.
However, when the first saint had taught them to
perform ritual bows to the sound of ceremonial music, and sentimental
contortions in the name of goodness and fairness, then began the competitions
for knowledge and for wealth, disproportionate pretensions and insatiable
ambitions.
Having thus disoriented humanity is the crime of
the saint.
Chapter 3
Thieves Small and Large:
A. The common man closes his bags and chests with
strong ties and strong locks, for fear that little thieves insert their hands.
This done, he believes himself, and people find him, wise.
There comes a great thief, who carries the bags and
chests with their ties and their locks, most pleased that his parcels have been
so well secured.
And it so happens that the wisdom of these common
men involved preparing parcels for thieves.
The same applies to government and administration.
Those who are commonly called saints are nothing more than the packers for the
bandits to come.
An example: In the principality of Ts’i, everything
had been settled according to the laws of the saints.
The population was so dense that every village
could hear the roosters and dogs of the neighbouring villages. The waters were
exploited by the fishing net and the fish-trap, the land by the plough and the
hoe.
Everything — the temples of the ancestors, of the
soil spirit, and of the patron of the harvests; the densely populated areas;
the countryside; even the nooks and crannies — was in the most perfect order.
One fine day, T’ien-tch’eng-tzu assassinated the
prince of Ts’i (in 482), and seized his principality, along with everything
that the saints had put into it.
Then, this bandit enjoyed the fruits of his crime. He
was as tranquil as Yao and Chun ever were.
No prince, great or small, dared attempt to force
him to give back his ill-gotten gains. Upon his death, he bequeathed the
principality to his successors (who maintained it until 221).
That, too, thanks to the saints, who advised to
submit to the fait accompli.
The most renowned of the historical saints have
thus worked for great thieves, even to the point of sacrificing their lives.
Loung-fang was decapitated, Pi-kan was disembowelled, Tch’ang-hung was quartered,
and Tzeu-su perished in the waters.
The irony is that, in their own way, the bandits by
profession also apply the principles of the saints.
This is what the famous thief Tchee taught his
students: To work out where there is a large pile of money is wisdom; to go in
the first is courage; to come out last is patience; to judge whether the move
is feasible or not is prudence; to divide up the booty equally is goodness and
fairness; only those bandits who combine these qualities are noteworthy.
Thus, if the principles of the saints have on
occasions been able to benefit honest folk, they have also benefited — and more
often — the scoundrels, much to the misfortune of honest folk.
To substantiate my argument, I will simply cite the
two historic facts, as illustrated in the adages, ‘when the lips are chopped
off, the teeth are cold,’ and, ‘the bad wine of Lou caused the siege of Han
tan.’
Yes, the appearance of the saints gives rise to the
appearance of the bandits, and the disappearance of the saints brings about the
disappearance of the bandits.
‘Saints’ and ‘bandits’… these two terms are
correlatives; the one invites the other, like ‘torrent’ and ‘inundation’,
‘embankment’ and ‘ditch’.
I repeat it, if the race of saints were to die out,
the bandits would disappear. In this world, there would be perfect peace,
without quarrels. It is because the race of saints does not die out that there
are always bandits.
The more saints are employed in governing the
state, the more the bandits will multiply; for they are the inventions of the
saints who produce them.
By introducing measures relating to capacity,
scales and weights, and divided contacts and seals, they have learned to be
corrupt. By introducing goodness and fairness, they have taught malice and
deceit.
If a poor devil steals a belt buckle, he will be
decapitated.
If a great bandit steals a principality, he will
become lord, and the advocates of the goodness and equity of the saints (the
hired politicians) will flock to him, and put all their wisdom at his service.
The logical conclusion of this is that you should
not waste your time first committing small thefts, but start out by stealing a
principality.
Then, you will not have to go to the effort of
repeating it. You will no longer have to fear the axe of the executioner. Then,
you will have all the saints, with all their inventions.
Yes, to make bandits, and to ensure that they are
not defeated, is the work of the saints (of the politicians by profession).
B. It is said: May the fish not come out of the depths,
where they live ignored, but in safety; may a State not show its resources, for
fear of being dispossessed.
Now, the saints (the politicians) are considered a
resource of the state. One should therefore hide them; keep them in obscurity;
not employ them. Thus the race of saints would die out, and with it, the race
of bandits.
Leave the jade in the ground, and the pearls in the
sea, and there will be no more thieves. Burn the complex contracts, and break
the needless seals, and men will become honest again. Eliminate the fine-tuned
scales and minuscule weights, and there will be no more quarrels. Take away all
the artificial institutions of the saints, and the people will return to their
natural common sense.
Abolish the scale of tones, break the ceremonial
musical instruments, and plug the ears of the ceremonial musicians, and men
will recover their natural hearing. Abolish the colour scale and the laws of
painting, and cover the eyes of the court painters, and men will regain their
natural sight.
Prohibit the French curve and the ruler, and the
compass and the square, and men will recover their natural aptitudes, those of
which it is said: skill with an air of clumsiness.
Discredit Tseng-chenn and Cheu-ts’iou
(legislators), gag Yang-tchou and Mei-ti (Sophists), outlaw the formula of
goodness and fairness (of the Confucianists), and the natural inclinations will
again be able to exercise their mysterious and unifying virtue.
Yes, let us return to sight, to hearing, to common
sense, to the natural instincts, and the glaring mistakes and artificial
grimaces will no longer exist.
The political philosophers, the ceremonial
musicians, the court painters, and the various performers, have done nothing
but deceive and pervert men through specious appearances. They have been of no
real use to humanity.
C. It was entirely otherwise, in the time of
perfect nature, in the time of the ancient sovereigns, before Fou-hi,
Chenn-nung, and Hoang-ti.
Back then, men were only familiar with knotted
cords (quipus). They found their unrefined food good, and their simple clothes
good too. They were happy with their primitive customs, and peaceful in their
poor dwellings.
The need to have relationships with others did not
torment them. They died of old age before having visited the neighbouring
principality, which they had seen from a distance all their lives, and in which
they had heard the roosters and the dogs every day.
In those days, on account of these customs, peace
and order were absolute.
Why is the situation completely different nowadays?
Because the rulers have become infatuated with the saints, and with their
inventions.
The people stretch their necks, and stand on
tiptoe, to look in the direction from where some saint is coming. They abandon
their parents, or leave their master, to run to this man. There will be a long
line of people and carts on the path that leads to his door.
All this is because, imitating the princes, the
common man has also become infatuated with knowledge.
Now, nothing is more disastrous to the States than
this wretched infatuation.
D. Artificial knowledge, against nature, has caused
all the evils of this world, and the misfortune of all those who inhabit it.
The invention of bows, crossbows, captive arrows,
and spring traps, has caused the misfortune of the birds of the air. The
invention of hooks, baits, fishing nets, and fish-traps has brought about the
misery of the fish in the waters. The invention of cages, snares, and trapdoors
has led to the misery of the quadrupeds in their thickets.
The invention of treacherous and venomous
Sophistry, with its theories of substance and accidents, with its arguments about
identity and difference, has disturbed the simplicity of the common man.
Yes, the love of knowledge, of intellectual
inventions and innovations, is responsible for all the evils of this world.
People desire to learn what they do not know (the
vain science of the Sophists). As a consequence, they unlearn what they know
(the natural truths of common sense).
People want to criticise the opinions of others. As
a consequence, they close their eyes to their own errors.
From there comes a moral disorder, which impacts on
the sun and the moon in the sky, on the mountains and the rivers on earth, on
the four seasons in the space in between, and even on the insects that throng
and swarm out of season (grasshoppers, etc.).
All beings are in the process of losing the
characteristics of their nature. The love of knowledge has caused this
disorder. This has been going on since the three dynasties.
Over the past eighteen centuries, folk have become
accustomed to disregarding natural simplicity, to valuing ritual deceit; or
have become accustomed to preferring a verbose and fallacious politics, to
frank and loyal non-action.
This is because of the chatterboxes (the saints,
the politicians, and the rhetoricians), who have sewn disorder in the world.
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