Associated with continence is the virtue of moderation, which also must form part of the good man’s character. To be content is to be rich and brings with it no danger or shame, while there is no greater calamity than not to know when to be satisfied.[33] He who knows where to stop will not incur peril, nor will he ever indulge in excess. To fill a cup while holding it in the hand is not so good as to let it alone, or, as we say, it is hard to carry a full cup even.[34] Too sharp an edge cannot be kept on a tool, and a hall full of gold and precious stones cannot be defended; and he who is wanton in prosperity leaves a legacy of misfortune. Various other metaphors are used to inculcate the necessity of following the mean, and abstaining from extravagance. The man who erects himself on tiptoe cannot continue so, nor can he who takes long strides continue to walk.[35] The intelligent and good man will be moderate in all things, not desiring to be prized like jade or slighted like a stone.[36]
It is also a characteristic of the truly virtuous man that he is always, and especially in privacy, grave and serious, and not unmindful of his weak points. He who knows his strength and protects his weakness at the same time will have all the world resorting to him for instruction and example; eternal virtue will not leave him, and he will return to the natural goodness of infancy.[37] Many things fail when the goal is nearly attained, but the godlike man is careful about the end no less than about the beginning.[38] So also were the sages of antiquity whose cautious, hesitating character is portrayed in outline as a model for others.[39]
Mercy is another virtue to which Lao-tzŭ attaches considerable importance. Nor is the quality of mercy, as he represents it, strained within any narrow compass. On the contrary, it flows not only over all mankind, but even to the entire world. As has been seen, Lao-tzŭ would have all capital punishment reserved for a supernatural agent to execute, and he would have the correction of wickedness effected by the quiet influence of a good example. He goes farther than this, however; for he will have us to abstain from even judging others—from dividing men into the righteous and the sinners.[40] It is Heaven alone which is to determine the moral worth of human creatures, and give to each his meed. And we must not even assign worldly misfortunes to the displeasure of Heaven—must not say that the eighteen on whom the tower of Siloam fell were greater sinners than the other residents in Jerusalem. The good man must not only not think too harshly of the man who is not good,[41] but he must even love him, and must reward ill will by virtue—the ne plus ultra of generosity, as one of the commentators observes.[42] So also the feeling of compassion will cause the good man to keep his good qualities in the back ground, and not excite the evil passions of the bad man by displaying them obtrusively before him. After a great dispute has been adjusted some grudge is sure to remain, so to live peaceably is to be regarded as virtuous.[43] The good man keeps his proof of an agreement, but he does not claim from the other party to it the fulfillment of the agreement, that is, he will not sue him at a court of law. This spirit of mercy and compassion ought not only to prevail in private and social life, but it ought to extend also to the seat of power and even to temper the fierce passions of warfare. Then from the circle of humanity Lao-tsŭ looks abroad over the ample spaces of nature, and extends to them also a kindly sympathy. The good man never injures anything in the world; on the contrary he saves the inferior creatures and assists them in their ever-renewed operations of coming into existence, growing, and returning to their original source.[44] Did the whole creation in his eyes, too, groan and travail in pain?
Of courage, truth, honesty, and several other virtues Lao-tzŭ does not make much mention. He seems also to think lightly of conventional humanity and equity, but Han Wên Kung says this was because he had a low conception of these two virtues. According to the figure used by Han, Lao-tzŭ was as a man sitting at the bottom of a well and pronouncing the sky to be of small dimensions.[45] He teaches, however, the mutual dependence of man upon man, and the consequent necessity of the interchange of good offices. The good man gives and asks not—does good and looks not for recompense. He who is virtuous is master of him who is not virtuous, but respect and affection must exist between them. The ruler and the ruled also are mutually dependent, and they too must reciprocate kindness and forbearance.
Lao-tzŭ repeatedly condemns the vices of much and fine talking. The wise man, he says, does not talk, and to do without audible words is to follow Nature.[46] Man ought to be silent in his actions as is the all-working Nature. Faithful words, are not fine, and fine words are not faithful; the virtuous man is not argumentative and vice versa.
To learning and wisdom our author does not, I think, assign a sufficiently high place, but seems rather to condemn them.[47] Learning adds to the evils of existence, and if we could put it away we would be exempt from anxiety. The ancient rulers kept the people ignorant and they had good government—so the people ought still to be kept in ignorance. But perhaps Lao-tzŭ refers to the faults of those persons who drink only slightly of the Pierian spring and then boast of what they acquire, thereby doing injury to themselves and to society. It would, however, have been better if he had distinguished between the pretenders to knowledge, and those who have drunk deeply at the fountain of wisdom by assigning to intellectual worth its proper importance.[48]
Lao-tzŭ, as has been seen, is not unmindful of the infirmity of noble minds which expects a recompense for a virtuous life. Nor are the inducements which he holds out of a slight or unworthy nature. On the contrary, they are to souls which have begun to delight in the path of virtue, and also to those still walking in “error’s wandering wood,” calculated to have a great effect. The desires and appetites must all be overcome and self must be subdued, but to him who obtains the victory there remain grand prizes. The gateways of knowledge are open to him, and he can contemplate the mysterious operations of nature.[49] Fame and greatness come to him unsolicited, and the years of his life are increased. Having the guileless purity of an infant—becoming like a little child—he will enjoy an exemption from the fear of noxious animals and wicked men.[50] Fierce beasts cannot gore or tear him, nor the soldier wound him in battle, that is, having perfect love towards all things he will not fear harm from any.[51] The godlike man does not use his neighbour as a foil to set off his own excellence, but rather assimilates himself to all. Thus he comes into intimate union with his fellow creatures and is set on high without incurring any ill-will. He lives not for himself but for others, and his life is prolonged by so doing. He does not amass for himself, nor does he bury his talent in the barren ground of itself. He spends it in the service of his fellows and it comes back to him with interest.[52] The more he serves the more he has wherewith to serve, and the more he gives the richer he becomes. It is almost surprising to find this thought thus expressed by Lao-tzŭ, and the words of one of his disciples, following out the idea, are somewhat remarkable—“There is also accumulation which causes deficiency, and a non-hoarding which results in having something over.”[53] There are several passages in the Tao-tê Ching besides the above, which might be included among the “testimonia animæ naturaliter Christianæ.” Humility, charity, and the forgiveness of injuries which are sometimes spoken of as purely Christian virtues are certainly inculcated by Lao-tzŭ.[54] But to return to our subject.—Man’s life ought thus to be continued opposition to self, gaining more and more control over it, until the passions cease to trouble and self is perfectly vanquished. Then comes the end which crowns the work. When the fleshly appetites have been subdued, and the spirit has attained that state in which it is
—“equable and pure;
No fears to beat away—no strife to heal—
The past unsighed for, and the future sure,”