the magic of the night sky, the magic of the caress of a beloved woman, the magic of sleep when day's work is over?"
To Wen added, "And greatest of all, the magic of dreams."
"Through all the years you have worshipped me, I have heeded your prayers with compassion. When you burnt incense sticks they were pleasant to my nostrils. I have watched over you diligently that no harm might befall you."
"Yet the greatest disaster struck me."
"I know nothing of disaster."
"My wife has gone from me to her ancestors."
"Was that such a calamity? Why, in yonder house I have placed concubines for your enjoyment so beautiful they put flowers to shame. They belong to you. They are a hundred times more beautiful than your wife. Go to them."
"I want them not. My wife was the most gracious of women. She was attuned to my every wish. Her passing was sorrow beyond words."
The god noticed tears in the eyes of Fo Wen.
"Weeping is for women," he said scornfully.
"The loss of such a woman is occasion enough for weeping."
"Bah!" spat out the god. "Was she such a good wife; did she bear you children?"
"She was the best of wives. That she was childless she could not help. Even though you are a god, say no more against her, else I may curse you."
The God of Scented Pine Trees was in a panic. There was nothing godlike in the manner in which he fawned over Fo Wen. He repeated over and over again that all he wished to do was to show how great was his benevolence. He wanted Fo Wen to be a rich man since his character was so strong and noble.
Fo Wen felt ill at ease. He disliked the god to debase himself before him. In an effort to get out of an untenable position, he promised that that night he would sleep in the palace. At that the god departed triumphantly, hollow triumph though it was, for he had been very close to ignominy.
Fo Wen walked across the garden reluctantly, to the sleeping quarters of the master of the house, but he felt little like a master, more like a slave, the slave of the God of Scented Pine Trees. What kind of a god was this who insisted on controlling the actions of his worshippers? Far better was old Lao Tzu who wrote for all within the Four Seas:
The Infinite Tao produces and sustains all things.
It claims nothing of what it has produced.
It acts with loving wisdom, without desiring reward,
It possesses all power
Yet it does not seek to control. . . .
No wonder throughout China so many people were Taoists, regarding Lao Tzu with complete devotion. Truly, Lao Tzu was a philosopher worth revering. He gave so much food for reflection and asked nothing in return.
