In ancient times, Hu Ba played the lute, and the swimming fish came up to listen. Bo Ya played the zither, and the six kinds of horses all raised up their heads from grazing. There is no sound so small as not to be heard.  There is no action so subtle as not to be manifest. Where there is jade in a mountain, the vegetation is lush, and where a pool begets pearls, its banks do not dry out. If you do good, will it not accumulate? How could it be that none hear of it?