Tigers and Sheep.

                    Happiness                
                                                                                         
 
 

                                                                                                                                          Wisdom
                                                         

 
 
 
    The wisdom of the sages tells us that  99.9% of the human population has always sought  "happiness."  The remaining segment of the population, less than 1%, however, has always sought "wisdom." Thus humanity is forever divided between those who seek happiness and those who seek wisdom. The following excerpts from some of the works of philosophers and sages make the distinction btween the seekers of happiness (the sheep) and the seekers of wisdom (the tigers) quite clear.

 
Lao Tzu.      600 B.C. China.  (From Tao Te Ching.)
 
 The multitude are merry, as though feasting on a day of sacrifice,
 Or like ascending a tower at springtime.
 I alone am inert, showing no sign of desires,
 Like an infant that has not yet smiled.
 Wearied, indeed, I seem to be without a home.
 The multitude all possess more than enough,
 I alone seem to have lost all.
 Mine is indeed the mind of an ignorant man,
 Indiscriminate and dull!
 Common folks are indeed brilliant;
 I alone seem to be in the dark.
 Common folk see differences and are clear-cut;
 I alone make no distinctions.
 I seem drifting as the sea;
 Like the wind blowing about, seemingly without destination.
 The multitude all have a purpose;
 I alone seem to be stubborn and rustic.
 I alone differ from others,
 And value drawing sustenance from Mother.

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Gotama Buddha.   563-483 B.C. India.  "Parable of the Burning House."

    "Sariputra! Suppose, in a certain kingdom there is a great elder, old and experienced, of boundless wealth, possessing many fields, houses, and servants. His house is spacious and large, but it has only one door, and many people dwell in it. Its halls and chambers are decayed and old, its walls are crumbling down, the bases of its pillars rotten, and the beams and roof-trees toppling and dangerous. On every side, at the same moment, fire suddenly starts and the house is in conflagration. The children of the elder are in the dwelling. The elder on seeing this conflagration spring up on every side, is greatly startled and reflects thus: Though I am able to get safely out of the gate of this burning house, yet my boys in the burning house are pleasurably absorbed in amusements without apprehension, knowledge, surprise, or fear. Though the fire is pressing upon them and pain and suffering are instant, they do not mind or fear and have no impulse to escape.'

    "Sariputra! This elder ponders thus:`I am strong in my body and arms. Shall I get them out of the house by means of a flower-vessel, or a bench, or a table?' again he ponders: `This house has only one gate, which moreover is narrow and small. My children are young, knowing nothing as yet, and attached to their place of play; perchance they will fall into the fire and be burnt. I must speak to them on this dreadful matter warning them that the house is burning and that they must come out instantly lest they are burnt and injured by the fire.' Having reflected thus, according to his thoughts, he calls to his children: `Come out quickly, all of you!'

    "Though their father, in his pity, lures and admonishes with kind words, yet the children, joyfully absorbed in their play, are unwilling to believe him and have neither surprise nor fear, nor any mind to escape; moreover, they do not know what is the fire [he means], or what the house, and what he means by being lost, but only run hither and thither in play, no more than glancing at their father. Then the elder reflects thus: ‘this house is burning in a great conflagration. If I and my children do not get out at once, we shall certainly be burnt up by it. Let me now, by some expedient, cause my children to escape this disaster.' Knowing that to which each of his children is predisposed, and all the various attractive playthings and curiosities to which their natures will joyfully respond, the father tells them, saying:`Here are rare and precious things for your amusement--if you do not come and get them, you will be sorry for it afterwards.  So may goat-carts, deer-carts, and bullock-carts are now outside the gate to play with. All of you come quickly out of this burning house, and I will give you whatever you want.' Thereupon the children, hearing of the attractive playthings mentioned by their father, and because they suit their wishes, everyone eagerly, each pushing the other, and racing one against another, comes rushing out of the burning house.

    ... Thus the Buddha sees how all living creatures are scorched by the fires of birth, age, disease, death, grief, and sorrow, and suffer all kinds of distress by reason of the five desires and the greed of gain; and how, by reason of the attachments of desire and its pursuits, they now endure much suffering. Absorbed in all these things, all living creatures rejoice and take their pleasure, while they neither apprehend, nor perceive, are neither alarmed, nor fear, and are without satiety, never seeking to escape, but, in the burning house of this  world are running to and fro, and although they will meet with great suffering, count it not as cause for anxiety.

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Confucius.  551-479 B.C.  China. (From The Analects).

8:9. Confucius said, "The common people may be made to follow it (the Way) but may not be made to understand it."

Confucius.  551-479 B.C.  China. (From The Book of Meng Tzu).

7B:37.  Confucius said: 'When someone passes by my gate and does not  enter, the only time I don't regret it is when it is a 'conventional townsman.'   These conventional townsmen are thieves of virtue.'  What sort of people were these, that he called 'conventional townsmen'?" Mencius said, "They criticize the ardent, saying 'How can they be so grandiose, such that their words do not reflect their actions and actions do not reflect  their words, and how can they justify themselves with 'the ancients did this, and the ancients did that.'" "And they criticize the prudent, saying, 'How can they be so aloof and cold?  We are all born in this world, so we should be part of it.  Being good here and now is sufficient.'  They obsequiously flatter their contemporaries. These are the so-called 'conventional townsmen.'" Wan Chang said, "The whole town calls them 'acceptable men'--there is no place where they can go where they will not be regarded as 'acceptable men.'  Why did Confucius call them 'thieves of virtue?'"  Mencius answered: "If you want to blame them for something, there is nothing in particular that you can blame them for.  If you want to correct them, there is nothing in particular that you can correct them for.  They follow the current customs and consent to the vices of the age.  They seem to abide in loyalty and honesty, and their actions seem pure.  Everyone follows them and because people follow them, people become incapable of entering the Tao of Yao and Shun.  Thus, they are called 'thieves of virtue.'" "Confucius said, 'I don't like simulacra. I don't like tares (grain weeds) because they can be confused with real grain.  I don't like eloquence, because it can be confused with Justice.  I don't like sharpness of tongue, because it might be confused with honesty.  I don't like the music of Chang, because it might be confused with good music.  I don't like purple, because it might be confused with vermilion and I don't like conventional townsmen, because they might be confused with the virtuous."

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Plato.   427-347 B.C.      Greece.    (From The Republic. Book VII)

 AND now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: Behold! human beings living in an underground den (or cave), which has a mouth open toward the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette-players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.
I see.
And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look toward the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive someone saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned toward more real existence, he has a clearer vision--what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them--will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
Last of all he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
  And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity him?
Certainly, he would.
  And if they were in the habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,
  "Better to be the poor servant of a poor master,"  and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such a one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if anyone tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.
No question, he said.
  This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of light, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upward to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed--whether rightly or wrongly, the God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
  I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you.
  Moreover, I said, you must not wonder that those who attain to this beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human affairs; for their souls are ever hastening into the upper world where they desire to dwell; which desire of theirs is very natural, if our allegory may be trusted.
  Yes, very natural.
  And is there anything surprising in one who passes from divine contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving himself in a ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes are blinking and before he has become accustomed to the surrounding darkness, he is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other places, about the images or the shadows of images of justice, and is endeavoring to meet the conceptions of those who have never yet seen absolute justice?
  Anything but surprising, he replied.
Anyone who has common-sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this when he sees anyone whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter life, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the den.
  That, he said, is a very just distinction.

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Aristotle.   384-322 B.C.   Greece.
                                            (From The Nichomachean Ethics, Book I).

     Let us resume our inquiry and state, in view of the fact that all knowledge and every pursuit aims at some good, what it is that we say political science aims at and what is the highest of all goods achievable by action. Verbally there is very general agreement; for both the general run of men and people of superior refinement say that it is happiness, and identify living well and doing well with being happy; but with regard to what happiness is they differ, and the many do not give the same account as the wise. For the former think it is some plain and obvious thing, like pleasure, wealth, or honor; they differ, however, from one another- and often even the same man identifies it with different things, with health when he is ill, with wealth when he is poor; but, conscious of their ignorance, they admire those who proclaim some great ideal that is above their comprehension. Now some thought that apart from these many goods there is another which is self-subsistent and causes the goodness of all these as well. To examine all the opinions that have been held were perhaps somewhat fruitless; enough to examine those that are most prevalent or that seem to be arguable.

    Let us not fail to notice, however, that there is a difference between arguments from and those to the first principles. For Plato, too, was right in raising this question and asking, as he used to do, 'are we on the way from or to the first principles?' There is a difference, as there is in a race-course between the course from the judges to the turning-point and the way back. For, while we must begin with what is known, things are objects of knowledge in two senses--some to us, some without qualification. Presumably, then, we must begin with things known to us. Hence any one who is to listen intelligently to lectures about what is noble and just, and generally, about the subjects of political science must have been brought up in good habits. For the fact is the starting-point, and if this is sufficiently plain to him, he will not at the start need the reason as well; and the man who has been well brought up has or can easily get starting points. And as for him who neither has nor can get them, let him hear the words of Hesiod:

      Far best is he who knows all things himself;
      Good, he that hearkens when men counsel right;
      But he who neither knows, nor lays to heart
      Another's wisdom, is a useless wight.
 
     Let us, however, resume our discussion from the point at which we digressed. To judge from the lives that men lead, most men, and men of the most vulgar type, seem (not without some ground) to identify the good, or happiness, with pleasure; which is the reason why they love the life of enjoyment. For there are, we may say, three prominent types of life- that just mentioned, the political, and thirdly the contemplative life. Now the mass of mankind are evidently quite slavish in their tastes, preferring a life suitable to beasts, but they get some ground for their view from the fact that many of those in high places share the tastes of Sardanapallus. A consideration of the prominent types of life shows that people of superior refinement and of active disposition identify happiness with honor; for this is, roughly speaking, the end of the political life. But it seems too superficial to be what we are looking for, since it is thought to depend on those who bestow honor rather than on him who receives it, but the good we divine to be something proper to a man and not easily taken from him. Further, men seem to pursue honor in order that they may be assured of their goodness; at least it is by men of practical wisdom that they seek to be honored, and among those who know them, and on the ground of their virtue; clearly, then, according to them, at any rate, virtue is better. And perhaps one might even suppose this to be, rather than honor, the end of the political life. But even this appears somewhat incomplete; for possession of virtue seems actually compatible with being asleep, or with lifelong inactivity, and, further, with the greatest sufferings and misfortunes; but a man who was living so no one would call happy, unless he were maintaining a thesis at all costs. But enough of this; for the subject has been sufficiently treated even in the current discussions. Third comes the contemplative life, which we shall consider later.

      The life of money-making is one undertaken under compulsion, and wealth is evidently not the good we are seeking; for it is merely useful and for the sake of something else. And so one might rather take the aforenamed objects to be ends; for they are loved for themselves. But it is evident that not even these are ends; yet many arguments have been thrown away in support of them. Let us leave this subject, then.

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Meng Tzu.  390-305 B.C.    China.  (From The Book of Meng Tzu).

7A:5   Mencius said: "Acting without being clear, practicing without close observation: doing this to the end of their lives without ever understanding their own course.  This is the way most people are."

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Manu.   100 A.D. India.     (From Manu's Law,  Chapter II).

   1. Learn that sacred law which is followed by men learned (in the Veda) and assented to in their hearts by the virtuous, who are ever exempt from hatred and inordinate affection.
   2. To act solely from a desire for rewards is not laudable, yet an exemption from that desire is not (to be found) in this (world): for on (that) desire is grounded the study of the Veda and the performance of the actions, prescribed by the Veda.
   3. The desire (for rewards), indeed, has its root in the conception that an act can yield them, and in consequence of (that) conception sacrifices are performed; vows and the laws prescribing restraints are all stated to be kept through the idea that they will bear fruit.
   4. Not a single act here (in this world) appears ever to be done by a man free from desire; for whatever (man) does, it is (the result of) the impulse of desire.
   5. He who persists in discharging these (prescribed duties) in the right manner, reaches the deathless state and even in this (life) obtains (the fulfillment of) all the desires that he may have conceived.
   6. The whole Veda is the (first) source of the sacred law, next the tradition and the virtuous conduct of those who know the (Veda further), also the customs of holy men, and (finally) self-satisfaction.
   7. Whatever law has been ordained for any (person) by Manu, that has been fully declared in the Veda: for that (sage was) omniscient.
   8. But a learned man after fully scrutinizing all this with the eye of knowledge, should, in accordance with the authority of the vedic texts, be intent on (the performance of) his duties.
   9. For that man who obeys the law prescribed in the vedic texts and in the sacred tradition, gains fame in this (world) and after death unsurpassable bliss.
   10. But by Sruti (that which was heard by the sages) is meant the Veda, and by Smriti (tradition) the Institutes of the sacred law: those two must not be called into question in any matter, since from those two the sacred law shone forth.
   11. Every twice-born man, who, relying on the Institutes of dialectics, treats with contempt those two sources (of the law), must be cast out by the virtuous, as a disbeliever and a scorner of the Veda.
   12. The Veda, the sacred tradition, the customs of virtuous men, and one's own pleasure, they declare to be visibly the fourfold means of defining the sacred law.

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Ibn Tufayl.    d. 1185 A.D. Europe.   (From, Hayy Ibn Yaqzan).
 
     Hayy Ibn Yaqzan began to teach this group and explain some of the profound wisdom to them. But the moment he rose the slightest bit above the literal or began to portray things against  which they were prejudiced, they recoiled in horror from his ideas and closed their minds. Out of courtesy to the stranger and in deference to their friend Absal, they made a show of being pleased with Hayy, but in their hearts they resented him. Hayy found them delightful and continued his exposition of the truth, exoteric and esoteric, night and day. But the more he taught, the more repugnance they felt, despite the fact that these were men who loved the good and sincerely yearned for the Truth.   Their inborn infirmity simply would not allow them to seek Him as Hayy did, to grasp the true essence of His being and see Him in His own terms.  They wanted to know him in some human way. In the end Hayy despaired of helping them and gave up his hopes that they would accept his teaching.

    Then class by class he studied mankind. He saw "every faction delighted with its own." They made their passions their god, and desire the object of their worship. They destroyed each other to collect the trash of this world, "distracted by greed until they went down to their graves."  Preaching is no help, fine words have no effect on them. Arguing only makes them more pigheaded. Wisdom they have no means of reaching; they were allotted no share of it.  They are engulfed in ignorance. Their hearts are corroded by their possessions. God has sealed their hearts and shrouded their eyes and ears. Theirs will be an awesome punishment.

     When he saw that the torture pavilion already encircled them and the shadows of the veil already enshrouded them, when he saw that all but a very few of them adhered to their religion only for the sake of this world and "flung away works, no matter how light and easy, sold them for a bad price," distracted from the thought of God by business, heedless of the Day when hearts and eyes will be turned inwards, Hayy saw clearly and definitely that to appeal to them publicly and openly was impossible. Any attempt to impose higher task on them was bound to fail. The sole benefit most people could derive from religion was for this world, in that it helped them lead decent lives without others encroaching on what belonged to them. Hayy now knew that only a very few win the true happiness of the man who "desires the world to come, strives for it and is faithful." but "for the insolent who prefer this life Hell will be their refuge!"

     What weariness is heavier, what misery more overburdening than recounting all you do from the time you get up to the time you go to bed without finding a single action that did not amount to seeking one of these vile, sensory aims: money making, pleasure seeking, satisfying some lust, venting rage, saving face, performing religious rites for the sake of honor, or just to save your neck! All these are only "cloud upon cloud over a deep sea." "Not one among you will descend there--this from your Lord, decreed and sealed."

     Hayy now understood the human condition. He saw that most men are no better than unreasoning animals, and realized that all wisdom and guidance, all that could possibly help them was contained already in the words of the prophets and the religious traditions. None of this could be different. There was nothing to be added. There is a man for every task and everyone belongs to the life for which he was created. "This was God's way with those who came before, and never will you find a change in the ways of God."
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George Berkeley.  1685-1753. Europe.

      Philosophy being nothing else but the study of wisdom and truth, it may with reason be expected that those who have spent most time and pains in it should enjoy a greater calm and serenity of mind, a greater clearness and evidence of knowledge, and be less disturbed with doubts and difficulties than other men. Yet so it is, we see the illiterate bulk of mankind that walk the high-road of plain common sense, and are governed by the dictates of nature, for the most part easy and undisturbed. To them nothing that is familiar appears unaccountable or difficult to comprehend. They complain not of any want of evidence in their senses, and are out of all danger of becoming Sceptics.
 
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Bertrand Russell.  1872-1970.   Europe.  (From, "Proposed Roads to Freedom ").

     The great majority of men and women, in ordinary times, pass through life without ever contemplating or criticizing, as a whole, either their own  conditions or those of the world at large. They find themselves born into a certain place in society, and they accept what each day brings forth, without any effort of thought beyond what the immediate present requires. Almost as instinctively as the beasts of the field, they seek the satisfaction of the needs of the moment, without much forethought, and without considering that by sufficient effort the whole conditions of their lives could be changed. A certain percentage, guided by personal ambition, make the effort of thought and will which is necessary to place themselves among the more fortunate members of the community; but very few among these are seriously concerned to secure for all the advantages which they seek for themselves. It is only a few rare and exceptional men who have that kind of love toward mankind at large that makes them unable to endure patiently the general mass of evil and suffering, regardless of any relation it may have to their own lives. These few, driven by sympathetic pain, will seek, first in thought and then in action, for some way of escape, some new system of society by which life may become richer, more full of joy and less full of preventable evils than it is at present. But in the past such men have, as a rule, failed to interest the very victims of the injustices which they wished to remedy. The more unfortunate sections of the population have been ignorant, apathetic from excess of toil and weariness, timorous through the imminent danger of immediate punishment by the holders of power, and morally unreliable owing to the loss of self-respect resulting from their degradation.
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The Impact of Chinese Values on the World.