"No," replied Tzŭ Fang; "he is merely a neighbour. He discourses admirably upon Tao. That is why I praise him."
"Have you then no tutor?" enquired the Prince.
"I have," replied Tzŭ Fang.
"And who may he be?" said Prince Wên.
"Tung Kuo Shun Tzŭ," answered Tzŭ Fang.
"Then how is it you do not praise him?" asked the Prince.
"He is perfect," replied Tzŭ Fang. "In appearance, a man; in reality, God. Unconditioned himself, he falls in with the conditioned, to his own greater glory. Pure himself, he can still tolerate others. If men are without Tao, by a mere look he calls them to a sense of error, and causes their intentions to melt away. How could I praise him?"
Thereupon Tzŭ Fang took his leave, and the Prince remained for the rest of the day absorbed in silence. At length he called an officer in waiting and said, "How far beyond us is the man of perfect virtue! Hitherto I have regarded the discussion of holiness and wisdom, and the practice of charity and duty to one's neighbour, as the utmost point attainable. But now that I have heard of Tzŭ Fang's tutor, my body is relaxed and desires not movement, my mouth is closed and desires not speech. All I have learnt, verily it is mere undergrowth. And the kingdom of Wei is my bane."
Tao is not to be reached by the superficial worker, or by such as value the distinctions of this world.