There was a great drought where [Richard] Wilhelm lived; for months there had not been a drop of rain and the situation became catastrophic.
The Catholics made processions, the Protestants made prayers, and the Chinese burned joss-sticks and shot off guns to frighten away the demons, but with no result.
Finally, the Chinese said, ‘We will fetch the rain-maker.’ And from another province a dried up old man appeared.
The only thing he asked for was a quiet little house somewhere, and there he locked himself in for three days.
On the fourth day the clouds gathered and there was a great snow-storm at the time of the year when no snow was expected, an unusual amount.
The town was so full of rumours about the wonderful rain-maker that Wilhelm went to ask the man how he did it.
In true European fashion he said: ‘They call you the rain-maker; will you tell me how you made the snow?’
And the rain-maker said: ‘I did not make the snow; I am not responsible.’
‘But what have you done these three days?’
‘Oh, I can explain that. I come from another country where things are in order.
Here they are out of order; they are not as they should be by the ordinance of heaven.
The whole country is not in Dao, and I also am not in the natural order of things because I am in a disordered country.
So, I had to wait three days until I was back in Dao and then naturally the rain came.’
Desde Mysterium Coniunctionis, The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, 2d edition (p. 419-20).
