(12) What need has He to wheedle a worm like Moses?" O babbler, while thy soul is drunk with mere date wine, For the token of thy having seen that divine light Is this, to withdraw thyself from the house of pride. When a fowl flies to the salt water, It has never beheld the blessing of sweet water; But its faith is mere imitation of other fowl, Wherefore the blind imitator encounters great perils, Perils of the road, of robbers, of cursed Satans. But when he has seen the light of God, he is safe

(10) Thou art a duck, and flourishest on land and water, And dost not, like a domestic fowl, dig up the house. Thou art a king of "the sons of Adam honored by God," l And settest foot alike on sea and land; For impress on thy mind, "We have carried them by sea," Before the words, "We have carried them by land." The angels go not on dry land, And the animals know nothing of the sea; Thou in body art an animal, in thy soul an angel;

(1) Who art a duckling, under her wing and nurtured thee, Thy nurse was earthy, and her wing dry land. The longing for the ocean which fills thy heart, Thy longing for dry land comes to thee from thy nurse; Quit thy nurse, for she will lead thee astray. Leave thy nurse on the dry land and push on, Enter the ocean of real Being, like the ducks! Though thy nurse may frighten thee away from water, Do thou fear not, but haste on into the ocean!

A certain falcon lost his way, and found himself in the waste places inhabited by owls. The owls suspected that he had come to seize their nests, and all surrounded him to make an end of him. The falcon assured them that he had no such design as they imputed to him, that his abode was on the wrist of the king, and that he did not envy their foul habitation. The owls replied that he was trying to deceive them, inasmuch as such a strange bird as he could not be a favorite of the king. The falcon repeated that he was indeed a favorite of the king, and that the king would assuredly destroy their houses if they injured him, and proceeded to give them some good advice on the folly of trusting to outward appearances. He said, "It is true I am not homogeneous with the king, but yet the king's light is reflected in me, as water becomes homogeneous with earth in plants. I am, as it were, the dust beneath the king's feet; and if you become like me in this respect, you will be exalted as I am. Copy the outward form you behold in me, and perchance you will reach the real substance of the king."

(1) It was the time of autumn floods. Every stream poured into the river, which swelled in its turbid course. The banks receded so far from one another that it was impossible to tell a cow from a horse. Then the Spirit of the River laughed for joy that all the beauty of the earth was gathered to himself. Down with the stream he journeyed east, until he reached the ocean. There, looking eastwards and seeing no limit to its waves, his countenance changed. And as he gazed over the expanse, he sighed and said to the Spirit of the Ocean, "A vulgar proverb says that he who has heard but part of the truth thinks no one equal to himself. And such a one am I. "When formerly I heard people detracting from the learning of Confucius or underrating the heroism of Poh I, I did not believe. But now that I have looked upon your inexhaustibility—alas for me had I not reached your abode, I should have been for ever a laughing-stock to those of comprehensive enlightenment!" To which the Spirit of the Ocean replied, "You cannot speak of ocean to a well-frog,—the creature of a narrower sphere. You cannot speak of ice to a summer insect,—the creature of a season. You cannot speak of Tao to a pedagogue: his scope is too restricted. But now that you have emerged from your narrow sphere and have seen the great ocean, you know your own insignificance, and I can speak to you of great principles.