Chuang Tzu 2.4

By means of a finger of my own to illustrate that the finger of another is not a finger, is not so good a plan, as to illustrate that it is not so by means of what is acknowledged to be not a finger; and by means of what I call a horse to illustrate that what another calls a horse is not so, is not so good a plan, as to illustrate that it is not a horse, by means of what is acknowledged to be not a horse. 

All things in heaven and earth may be dealt with as a finger; each of their myriads may be dealt with as a horse. Does a thing seem so to me? I say that it is so. Does it seem not so to me? I say that it is not so. 

A path is formed by constant treading on the ground. A thing is called by its name through the constant application of the name to it. How is it so? It is so, because it is so. How is it not so? It is not so, because it is not so. Everything has its inherent character and its proper capability. There is nothing which has not these. 

Therefore, this being so, if we take a stalk of grain and a large pillar, a loathsome leper and a beauty like Hsì Shih, things large and things insecure, things crafty and things strange—they may in the light of the Tâo all be reduced to the same category of opinion about them. 

It was separation that led to completion; from completion ensued dissolution. But all things, without regard to their completion and dissolution, may again be comprehended in their unity—it is only the far reaching in thought who know how to comprehend them in this unity. 

This being so, let us give up our devotion to our own views, and occupy ourselves with the ordinary views. These ordinary views are grounded on the use of things. The study of that use leads to the comprehensive judgment, and that judgment secures the success of the inquiry. That success gained, we are near to the object of our search, and there we stop. When we stop, and yet we do not know how it is so, we have what is called the Tâo. 

When we toil our spirits and intelligence, obstinately determined to establish our own view, and do not know the agreement which underlies it and the views of others, we have what is called "In the morning three." 

What is meant by that "In the morning three?" A keeper of monkeys, in giving them out their acorns, once said, "In the morning I will give you three measures and in the evening four." 

This made them all angry, and he said, "Very well. In the morning I will give you four and in the evening three." 

His two proposals were substantially the same, but the result of the one was to make the creatures angry, and of the other to make them pleased—an illustration of the point I am insisting on. 

Therefore the sagely man brings together a dispute in its affirmations and denials, and rests in the equal fashioning of Heaven. Both sides of the question are admissible.