VOLUME III, SEMESTER 3, CHAPTER 36, SECTION 3
The state, the globe, and charity
The last section pushed the by need to a place. This section pushes to the largest few rings: a state, a world under heaven, and that thing that leans not on even a thread of relation, purely given for free, charity. On a scale this large, this far, wholly strange to one another, does the by need still stand. Ring by ring, pushed to the end.
One, a state: among tens of millions who never met
First look at a state. In this ring are thousands upon thousands who never met. This whole life, you will not see one in ten thousand of them.
Yet right among these men you will never meet in a life, the by need still runs. A state takes the things all handed up, gathers them into one place, and uses them for what. Uses them to nourish the old, the sick, the maimed, the man down on his luck for a while. That share you handed in may make up an old man a thousand miles off you will never come to know. That share another man handed in a thousand miles off may, some day to come, make up onto you. This is the by need, pushed to a scale as large as a state. It leans on a whole set of rules set up nationwide together, doing that take from the too much and make up the not enough among tens of millions who never met.
Think how marvelous this is, and how not easy. A mother leaving rice for her child leans on the love of blood kin, there of itself. But to make tens of millions who never met willing to put out their own share, to make up a stranger they will never see, this heart grows not there of itself, it must lean on a whole set of carefully set up rules to hold it up. This is why, the larger the scale, the more precious that by need, and the more brittle too. It is furthest from that natural love of blood kin, holding wholly on rules made by man. The rules set upright, and it is a safety net for tens of millions. The rules once wormed into, taken for private gain, and it is the most apt to break loose into disorder. This layer, the next chapter, and the one after, go on purpose to look at.
Two, the globe: after an earthquake
Push one ring further out, out to the globe. This is the largest ring in the human world, among the men of the whole earth.
Is the by need in this ring. It is too. See, wherever on the earth a great disaster strikes, a great earthquake, a great flood, the men of other places, strangers, across heavy seas, will reach out a hand too. Money sent over, grain sent over, doctors, rescue men flown over. These men who send aid have no blood kin, no neighbor tie, no shared one state, with the men of the disaster land, no relation at all. On what ground do they reach out a hand. On this one thing: that too is a man, and those men at this moment are in need. This is the by need, pushed to the largest, furthest ring of the globe, pushed to a place that steps even over the state.
Hold this scene: after a great disaster, the hands of aid pouring toward the disaster land from every quarter. It is distribution by need, at the furthest place it can reach in the human world. It proves one thing: the by need, this rule, its range can reach as far as the whole earth. Even strangers, even across heavy seas, so long as the far end is need, the near end can breed the heart to reach out a hand. This heart, the last chapter spoke of through that line from the school of Confucius: within the four seas, all are brothers. A relief across heavy seas is exactly those words, all within the four seas are brothers, in their most solid look.
Three, charity: the giving that need lean on not even a rule
At the last, look at a most special thing, charity. Where is it special. All the by need before leaned at least on a bit of relation, a bit of rule: blood kin, neighbor, enterprise, state. But charity need lean on not even this bit.
A man takes out his own things, gives to a man with no relation to him at all, whom he will also never come to know, looking for no return whatever, not even letting the other know who gave. This is the purest kind of distribution by need. It draws away every leaning before. Not for blood kin, not for living near, not for being in one enterprise, one state, it is purely one man, seeing another man in hardship, giving his own things out. It asks not whether the other deserves, asks not whether the other will pay back in a day to come, seeks not even a word of thanks from the other.
This thing charity bares the heart of distribution by need to the most naked, most clean degree. All the by need before could still find a little shadow of you give me and I give you. But in the purest charity, even this shadow is gone, it is a purely, one directioned giving out. There are men who do such a thing a whole life, taking what they have, bit by bit, giving it to men they will never see. Such men, such things, are the herald of the thing this term will speak of heavily at the last. It has a name, held for chapter thirty nine, to be called out in earnest. Here, we first set the position of charity down: it is the purest, least account adulterated, very extreme of distribution by need.
Four, treat my old as old and reach it to the old of others, pushed to the end
These two chapters, all along, borrowed that line of Mencius, treat my old as old, and reach it to the old of others, pushed outward. Pushed to this section, it is pushed exactly to its end, so call it back, and make an end of it. Treat my old as old, and reach it to the old of others. Treat my young as young, and reach it to the young of others. All under heaven can be turned in the palm. So runs the line in the Mencius, King Hui of Liang.
Before we spoke only the first two lines, this time call out Mencius’s next line too: all under heaven can be turned in the palm. Put it plain: take this heart of nourishing your own house’s old, loving your own house’s young, and push it ring by ring outward, push it onto the old and young of others, and pushed so, the whole world under heaven can be settled well, as though turned in the palm of the hand.
See the great breath of this line of Mencius. He sets out from that smallest tenderness in a house, and says this heart, only let it be willing to be pushed ring by ring outward, can be pushed all the way to the whole world under heaven. Is this not the road these two chapters walked. From a bowl of rice, to a husband and wife, to a house, to the neighbor, to the enterprise, to a place, to a state, to the globe, to the purest charity.
What we walked is exactly this road of Mencius, from a house’s tenderness pushed toward all under heaven. Mencius, more than two thousand years ago, pointed this road out clear: this thing distribution by need, its root is in that smallest tenderness in a house, yet it can be, and should be, pushed to all under heaven. All under heaven turned in the palm leans on nothing else, only this heart that can push from one’s own house onto the stranger, onto all under heaven.
Five, what this chapter set, crossing to the next
Good. Chapter thirty six walks to here, and this layer can be said firm.
This chapter counted the by need by relation. Section one, from two men to a house, saw clear the healthy by need is a two directioned tenderness, the things flowing from the too much to the not enough. Section two, pushed to the neighbor, the enterprise, the place, saw clear the further from blood kin, the more it must lean on man to set up rules, to work it. Section three, pushed to the state, the globe, to the purest charity, saw clear the range of the by need can reach as far as the whole earth, and saw clear it, the further from blood kin, the more precious, also the more brittle, the more it must lean on rules to hold it up. Through Mencius, from a house pushed to all under heaven turned in the palm, it walked this whole road from the near to the far to its end.
What this chapter set firm is: distribution by need lives in all relations, from two men to all under heaven, it can be pushed ring by ring outward, its range reaching the whole earth. Yet the further it goes from that natural love of blood kin, the more it must lean on rules made by man to hold it up, the more precious, and the more brittle.
So, these several chapters, all along, have spoken the by need so warm, so good. But the warmer, the better a thing, the more must one ask its other side: how did it come to walk here, did it truly appear in history, or is it only a fair wish. The next chapter steps back, and looks from the head at how this thing, from the most ancient tribe, walked step by step to today. Does it have a history of its own.
Credit to the ancestors; the mistakes are mine: Tiger Lyon.