Sung Hsing and Yin Wên became enthusiastic followers of TAO. They adopted a cap, shaped like the Hua Mountain, as a badge. They bore themselves with kindly discrimination towards all things. They spoke of the passive qualities of the heart as though they had been active; and declared that whosoever could bring joy among mankind and peace within the girdle of ocean should be made ruler over them. They suffered obloquy without noticing the insult. They preserved the people from strife. They prohibited aggression and caused arms to lie unused. They saved their generation from wars, and carried their system over the whole empire, to the delight of the high and to the improvement of the lowly. Though the world would have none of them, yet they struggled on and would not give way. Hence it was said that when high and low became tired of seeing them, they intruded themselves by force. In spite of all this, they did too much for others, and too little for themselves. "Give us," said they, "but five pints of rice, and it will be enough." The master could not thus eat his fill; but the disciples, although starving, did not forget the world's claims. This is not satisfactorily explained by any commentator. Kuo Hsiang says that these two men regarded the world as their "master." Day and night they toiled on, saying, "Must we necessarily live? Shall we ape the so-called saviours of mankind?" "The superior man," they say, "is not a fault-finder. He does not appropriate the credit of others. He looks on one who does no good to the world as a worthless fellow. He regards prohibition of aggressive actions and causing arms to lie unused, as external; the diminution and restraint of our passions, as internal. In all matters, great or small, subtle or gross, such is the point to which he attains." To be public-spirited and belong to no party, in one's dealings not to be all for self, to move without being bound to a given course, to take things as they come, to have no remorse for the past, no anxiety for the future, to have no partialities, but to be on good terms with all,--herein lay the TAO of the ancients. P'êng Mêng, T'ien P'ien, and Shên Tao, became enthusiastic followers of TAO. Their criterion was the identity of all things. "The sky," said they, "can cover but cannot support us. The earth can support but cannot cover us. TAO can embrace all things but cannot deal with particulars." They knew that in creation all things had their possibilities and their impossibilities. Therefore they said, "Selection excludes universality. Training will not reach in all directions. But TAO is comprehensive." Consequently, Shên Tao discarded all knowledge and self-interest and became a fatalist. It is about as difficult to apprehend TAO apart from fatalism as the omniscience of God apart from predestination. Passivity was his guiding principle. "For," said he, "we can only know that we know nothing, and a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.