The World of a Tiny Insect: A Memoir of the Taiping Rebellion and Its Aftermath

Preface by Zhang Daye

35 Preface by Zhang Daye From the cry of a tiny insect, one can hear the sound of a vast world. To speak of a tiny insect and the world as relative to each other is why the Great Hero is capable of containing the ancient and modern times in himself, and his outlook alone is different from the masses of men.1 That which is clear and light above us is heaven; that which is condensed and heavy below us is earth; sun, stars, great mountains, and large rivers are wedged in between. This is what we call “the world.” Clouds are a world to the dragon; wind is a world to the tiger; the Sage is a world to the myriad things. Therefore, in the old days, when the former kings ruled the country, once the five grains were harvested, the kings had the common people share the same alleyways, and let men and women sing together if they had any grievance. Those who were hungry would sing of food; those who were fatigued would sing of labor. The government would provide for men over fifty and women over forty, and ask them to collect their songs and present them to the county; the county would in turn present them to the prefecture, and the prefecture would in turn present them to the capital, so that the Son of Heaven would know everything about the world without having to go outdoors. What one takes to be a whole world is nothing but wavering hot air and floating dust.2 When one looks at them from the point of view of what is large, they go back and forth continuously and blow each other 1 The Great Hero is an epithet of the Buddha. 2 The phrase “wavering hot air and floating dust” is from the first chapter of Zhuangzi, “Free Roaming” (Xiaoyao you). The following discussion about the relativity of large and small is filled with echoes of this Zhuangzi chapter. 36 Preface about; when one looks at them from the point of view of what is small, they go east or west with the wind, appearing at sunrise and disappearing at sundown. But no matter which way one looks at them, they remain the same in being the world. The wings of a bee and the eyes of a mosquito are extremely small, and yet they are capable of flying and seeing. They have ruler and subject, father and son, husband and wife, brothers and friends: their happiness, anger, sadness, and joy are the same as in the human world. When you pour a cup of water into a hollow in the floor of the hall, a passing ant may take it to be a huge lake. How then do we know that it might see a burning torch and not take it to be the morning sun? A tiny insect is a tiny insect. Unable to see the sun, the stars, great mountains, and large rivers, when it sees a cup of water and a burning torch, it is startled and filled with admiration, thinking that perhaps they are none other than the so-called sun, stars, great mountains, and large rivers. It leaps with excitement, looks up, cries out, and writes down in private what it has seen. This is also the intent of “collecting the songs.” Wouldn’t the Great Hero of this world consider the sound of a tiny insect to be on a par with the wonderful music of Emperor Shun and the dance of “Mulberry Grove”?3 There might be something here of use to the Sage in his consideration of the world. The above is the preface. 3 Shun was the legendary sage emperor in ancient times. “Mulberry Grove” was the title of a musical piece supposedly performed for the emperors of the Shang dynasty in high antiquity. ...