《子华子》

Zihuazi is included in the collection of Masters texts in the Daoist Canon of China. The work consists of ten scrolls, titled in order “Yangcheng Xuqu’s Questions,” “Confucius’s Gift,” “Beigongzi Takes Office,” “Questions at the Tiger Gathering,” “Yan Zi,” “Yan Zi’s Questions about Factions,” “Holding to the Mean,” “The Great Dao,” “Beigong Yi’s Questions,” and “Spirit and Vital Energy.”

The original table of contents has been lost. The surviving contents list was reconstructed from the chapter titles found in the main text.

Your minister Liu Xiang respectfully submits: The Zihuazi that I was ordered to collate originally had twenty-four chapters. After comparing them against one another, I found that fourteen were duplicates, so the collection was reduced to ten chapters. These have been fixed on bamboo slips and can now be copied out as a book.

Zihuazi's surname was Cheng, his personal name Ben, and his courtesy name Zihua. He was a man of Jin. After Duke Qing of Jin lost control of the government, affairs fell into the hands of the six great ministerial houses. Viscount Zhao Jianzi rose to power and drew capable men into his service as retainers, and Zihuazi lived in this period. He was broadly learned and familiar with the ancient classics, old archival collections, and traditional records. He was open and frank by temperament, fond of debate, and unwilling to bend himself to please the feudal lords. He therefore gathered disciples to lecture and to write, calling himself Master Cheng. His reputation was great, and the feudal lords all knew of him.

Confucius once met Zihuazi in the countryside and sighed, "This is a worthy scholar of the realm!" Zhao Jianzi wished to invite him to court as an official but could not secure his agreement, so he sent an envoy with gifts to engage him, intending to grant him a rank of honor such as the jade gui tablet. At that time Zhao Jianzi had executed Dou Du and Shun Hua, and Confucius composed the qin piece Lin He Zhi Cao ("Lament by the River") in response. Zihuazi also hesitated to take office. Zhao Jianzi grew furious and meant to coerce him by force, so Zihuazi left Jin for Qi.

Duke Jing of Qi did not employ him either. Zihuazi lodged in the household of Yan Ziping, and he titled his book Zihuazi. After Zhao Jianzi died, Zhao Xiangzi succeeded him, and Zihuazi returned to Jin. By then he was old, and he took no further office until his death.

The bamboo slips of this book have since been scattered and its order is in disarray. His disciples could only string together what they had heard and write it down, so the original arrangement has been lost. The extant book is therefore not a text that Zihuazi himself finalized. In general, Zihuazi took the Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue) as his principle, with ren (benevolence) and yi (righteousness) as his standard. He stressed keeping faith and sustaining integrity, and he would not yield carelessly in pursuit of office. Only Confucius recognized his virtue, and he had been a long-standing friend of Yan Pingzhong, the grandee of Qi.

In that age the feudal lords contended with one another through power, nursed grudges and stirred up disasters, and all day long employed schemes and deceptions. Zihuazi's teachings were like cupping water to fill a crack in stone; they could hardly find a response. He held fast to his integrity and would not lightly seek office, and in the end the world did not employ him, which is lamentable. I respectfully present the catalogue. Your minister Liu Xiang submits this at the risk of his life.

The preface states that Zihuazi's surname was Cheng, his personal name Ben, and his courtesy name Zihua, and that he was a man of Jin in the Spring and Autumn period. The Annotated Catalogue of the Siku Quanshu, however, holds that Cheng Ben and Zihuazi were originally not the same person. Before the Qin dynasty there was indeed a Zihuazi, and the Lüshi Chunqiu quoted its words. But the Treatise on Arts and Letters in the Book of Han no longer lists this work, which suggests that the original may have been lost by Liu Xiang's time. The version circulating today appeared after the Nanbo of the Song period, and it may have been written by a literate man who borrowed an ancient figure's name to vent his indignation.

Yangcheng Xuqu, introduced through Beiguanzi, went to visit Master Zihua and said: "I have a question. When Heaven and Earth first took shape and the myriad things began to sprout, who set the wind turning? And who investigated and who drove these changes of the three-threes and six-sixes? I have heard that the old books record the principles behind these matters, and that you, Master, must understand them. I hope you will share your views."

Master Zihua replied: "Alas, how could I truly understand such things? I will venture an explanation, and you may listen as well. Undifferentiated chaos is called taichu (Great Beginning). From it arose three kinds of qi: the upper qi is called shi (Commencement), the middle qi is called yuan (Origin), and the lower qi is called xuan (Mystery). Mystery depends on Origin, Origin depends on Commencement, and Commencement depends on Great Beginning. The Great True, the original qi, divided and then linked the three and returned to unity. Dividing once more produced two, each with its own exclusive nature. These are yin-yang (Yin-Yang). Yin and yang each divided again into three, reaching the number nine, and at that point the transformations came to an end.

Thus the upright qi of the three yins lodges in the wind, and its concentrated essence is called Taixuan (Supreme Mystery). The upright qi of the three yangs lodges in water, and its pivotal name is Taiyi (Supreme One). Taiyi is pure yang qi, and Taixuan is pure yin qi. The upright color of yang qi is red, and the upright color of yin qi is black. Water belongs to yang yet appears as yin when it lies hidden; wind belongs to yin yet appears as yang when it stirs. Red occupies the upper position and black the lower, green is on the left and white on the right, and yellow lies concealed at the center. The qi of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) circulates without end, and so it takes on the form of rotation around a pivot.

Water holds the essential qi of Taiyi, so it nourishes the myriad things and flows beneath the earth. Wind holds the essential qi of Taixuan, so it sets the myriad things in motion and moves across the sky. The upper red image corresponds to the trigram Li (Fire), and the lower black image corresponds to the trigram Kan (Water). The two ends are balanced because there is something centered between them. While the central position has not been established, the two ends cannot appear. Therefore Kan and Li move together in the midst of the middle qi, dwell at the center of Heaven and Earth, give birth to the myriad things, and keep them renewing themselves without exhaustion.

Yang qi manifests as fire, and when fire prevails, the winter solstice is dry. Yin qi manifests as water, and when water prevails, the summer solstice is damp. Fire rises and water flows downward; birds fly upward and fish swim below. Things respond to one another, and flame answers what is of its own kind. What is the reason for this, and where does it come from? And who makes it so? Things are so because they are naturally so, yet why they are so, I do not know. This is the source of the transformations of the myriad things.

Divided upward, they form Heaven; divided downward, they form Earth. Once divided, this is called zhong (the Middle). Division necessarily involves joining, and this is called he (Harmony). When the Middle and Harmony merge with the profound Dao, the myriad things are born, and this is what is called the 'three-threes and six-sixes.'"

Xu Qu said: "Had you not instructed me, Master, I would almost have been unable to grasp this principle."

Master Zihua replied: "Alas, how could I truly know? I will venture an explanation, and you may listen. The Dao (the Way) is originally one. When I join with the Dao, we become three. My bones, orifices, hair, bodily fluids, and internal organs, along with my breathing, exhaling, and the circulation of fluids within the body, are all Dao. Beyond these, the changes of things are so manifold that even Dagou, the legendary inventor of the sexagenary cycle, could not record them all with his jiazi reckoning.

Therefore the Dao is established in oneness, and the transformations of the myriad things and the evolution of human affairs scatter from it into countless differences that flow on endlessly without boundary. The ancients who understood the Dao devoted themselves to preserving life. To preserve life is to not lose what one has inherently; not losing what is inherent is to hold fast to the Dao; and holding fast to the Dao brings the shen (spirit) to rest.

Therefore, preserving life is best; having life diminished is second; death is third; and being forced to live is worst. To preserve life means that all six desires are properly satisfied. To have life diminished means that only some of the six desires are properly satisfied. When life is diminished, one treats lightly what one values, and the greater the loss, the more those cherished things are neglected. Death means losing consciousness and returning to the state before birth. Being forced to live means that none of the six desires can be properly satisfied, and instead one endures what one most detests.

There is no greater disgrace than injustice. To fall into injustice is to live under compulsion, and so it is said that being forced to live is worse than death. The common human disposition is to listen with the ears and look with the eyes. Hearing a sound one finds utterly loathsome is worse than not hearing it; seeing a sight one most dreads is worse than not seeing it. Thus, when thunder crashes suddenly, people cover their ears, because fear arises in the heart.

People enjoy fine food, not in order to eat rotten rat meat; they like good wine, not in order to drink spoiled wine. Respecting life does not mean being forced to live. Those forced to live have no way out, and so it is said that this condition is the worst."

Gongzhong Cheng asked Master Cheng: "It is commonly said that when the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi) governed the world, the hundred spirits came to the courtyard of the Hall of Light (Mingtang) to receive their duties. The Yellow Emperor also mined copper at Shou Mountain, built a great furnace, and cast a divine tripod (ding) on the mountain. When the tripod was complete, a grass dragon descended to welcome him, and the Yellow Emperor rode a white cloud to the Heavenly Homeland. The junior attendants who followed him could not ascend. Some clung to the dragon's whiskers, but they shook from the strain and fell. The Emperor's bow and robe also dropped, and the common people clutched these relics and wept aloud. For this reason the bow was called the 'Bow of the Black Crow,' and his garments and hat were stored at the Qiao Mausoleum. Are these accounts true?"

Master Cheng replied: "No. People are far too fond of bizarre rumors. The sage belongs to the same kind as ordinary people. Things of the same kind have the same form; things with the same form have the same qi (vital energy); and things with the same qi share the same capacity for perception. When kinds differ, their forms, temperaments, and perceptions differ as well. People can honor one another as elders because they are of the same kind; they can put one another to work because their forms are similar; they can manage and restrain one another because their temperaments correspond; and they can jointly maintain order because their perceptions are shared. A person, a dragon, a tripod, and a cloud are all different from one another. How could mere words make them respond to one another and obey a human being? Such a legend cannot be true.

"I have heard that the words by which the ancient sages instructed the world were sometimes direct and sometimes indirect, using metaphor. Direct speech states the intended meaning plainly; indirect speech borrows things to make a comparison. When speech is winding and implicit, it is transmitted for a long time. But what is transmitted for a long time inevitably loses its accuracy, and those who understand the principles correct it. When transmission has become thoroughly confused, those who understand the principles must put a stop to it.

"When the Yellow Emperor governed the world, his subtle virtue (de) moved the four quarters. It rose to Heaven and extended to Earth, and therefore it became the source of countless blessings. Since the hundred blessings arose from it, to say that 'the hundred spirits received their duties in the courtyard' is a metaphor describing this transforming virtue. Mining copper refers to tempering hard and firm material. Ascending Shou Mountain refers to pursuing a lofty and luminous state. Building the great furnace refers to promoting the transformations of yang qi. The divine tripod was a vessel for cooking food: water is above and fire is below, and the breaths of water and fire rise and fall in harmony, symbolizing the Way of the Mean.

"The 'grass dragons' of legend stand for the multitude of yang qi, and clouds belong to the same kind as dragons. The so-called 'Heavenly Homeland' refers to the orifices of the Numinous Terrace (Lingtai), the place where the mind-spirit (xinshen) dwells, and to the transformations of the mind's technique (xinshu). The Yellow Emperor was of the same kind, form, and qi as ordinary people, and he had the same capacity for perception. Yet he continually perfected and elevated himself. His subtle virtue penetrated deeply and far, and the reach of his clear spiritual insight went far beyond that of ordinary people, so that the junior attendants could not attain to it. That some clung to the dragon's whiskers means that they could see only a lower level and could not rise to a higher one. Those who can see the lower level but not the higher are scholars (shi); those who can see neither above nor below are the common people.

"The bow, the robe, and the garments and hat were the means by which the Yellow Emperor ordered the world and established its customs. The common people did not understand the principles behind them, but they remembered the man who had once governed them. Therefore, when the Yellow Emperor departed from the world, the people expressed their longing through wailing, and they preserved his relics to carry on his deeds. All of this is speech that uses things as metaphor. Yet people hurried to spread it as marvelous tales and used it to deceive one another. People are far too fond of bizarre rumors.

"A thousand years from now, there will certainly be rulers who aspire too high and envy eternal life and ascent to immortality. The cunning ministers at their side, who seek to win favor, will flatter them by following their inclinations. In this way the ruler will single-mindedly pursue the contrived works attributed to the Yellow Emperor. From birth, a person is young and strong, then gradually grows old and finally dies. This is the common constant of all people, and even the most wise cannot escape it.

"Judging from ancient records, some of these sages seem to have existed and others seem not to have. From the Dating, Zhonghuang, Hexu, and Zunlu peoples onward, the kinds of so-called sages have been more than one. I truly fear that if they all dwelt in Heaven, with palaces linked one above another, then even if each palace housed dozens or hundreds of people, it would not be enough. Who would then govern them? And whom would the ministers take orders from? If this were so, why would it still be dark and silent to this day? This is plainly unreasonable. Yet people, whether clever or foolish, all envy and pursue these strange things. People are far too fond of bizarre rumors.

"The nine tripods of the Zhou dynasty were made by Da Yu to mark and identify the spirits and strange creatures. The Yellow Emperor cast one tripod, and Da Yu cast nine. Although both were casting vessels, the meanings they expressed were entirely different. From this, one can judge the doubtful points in the legend.

"Dubious reports circulating in the world are not limited to this one kind. In the past, in the state of Song, there was a family named Ding that had no well. Every day they had to send someone outside to fetch water for irrigation. Later they dug a well in their courtyard, and the household saved the labor of one person. The family said, 'Now that we have dug the well, it is as though we have gained one person's labor.' Someone who heard this passed it on as 'The Ding family dug a well and unearthed a person.' The people of Song repeated it to one another until it reached the ruler of Song. The ruler summoned Ding and questioned him. Ding replied, 'After digging the well, the household gained one person's labor. We did not dig a person out of the well.' The tale of the Yellow Emperor casting a divine tripod is like 'digging a person out of a well,' and one who understands the principles correcting the rumor is like the ruler of Song summoning Ding to verify it.

"I repeat these principles because I cannot refrain from clarifying them. Young people, remember this."

Tanzi was famous among the feudal lords for his knowledge of ritual propriety (li), so Zihuazi visited him many times. When he saw Tanzi, Zihuazi said, "What I have heard of you is not the same as what I now see."

"Ritual (li) is what the early kings used to establish order, not to upset it. It is what they used to guide people, not to harm them. If one delights only in the ornament of blue and yellow hues and fine patterns, the five colors will mix together and lose their order. If one pursues only the winding and surging of the notes gong and zhi (pitches of the ancient scale), then however many sounds there are, the eight categories of instruments (bayin) will fall into disorder."

"When nets are spread across the land and snares are set in the water, the flying birds and the fish in the streams find it hard to keep their lives. Does not the Shijing say, 'What lies hidden is still clearly revealed'? Now Tanzi not only upsets the order of ritual, but goes further and uses ritual to harm people. If this continues, the flying birds and the fish will be unable to keep their lives. Does not the Shijing say, 'What lies hidden is still clearly revealed'?"

"If Tanzi truly understood ritual and music, he would not be as I have heard." Having said this, Zihuazi straightened his carriage and set off for home.

End of Volume One of the Zihuazi.

Zihua Zi was returning from the states when he met Confucius on the road. They stopped their carriages, faced each other, and talked for an entire day, finding great delight in one another. Confucius instructed Zilu, "Take some silk from the East and give it to the Master." Zilu replied dismissively, "I have heard that a scholar does not meet a man without a formal greeting, and a woman does not marry without a matchmaker; a gentleman does not act outside the proper rites of association." After a while, Confucius turned back to Zilu and said, "I have found deep accord with this gentleman." He again told Zilu to deliver the silk, and Zilu gave the same reply as before.

Confucius said, "Zilu, you are stubborn indeed. Does the Book of Poetry not say, 'There is a beautiful person, gentle as a clear breeze; by chance we meet, and it fulfills my heart's wish'? Master Cheng is a worthy man of the realm. If we do not offer a gift now, we may never see him again in our lives. Go and take care of it."

Zihua Zi said, "The Dao has no fixed form. It is empty and still, and gathers into a single Qi; when this Qi disperses, it becomes the myriad things. What we call the cosmos is the place that carries and transmits the Dao. All things are originally one body, and who can know where they begin or where they end? The force of gathering governs aggregation, and the force of expansion governs dispersal. Between one opening and one closing, the forms of the myriad things take turns replacing one another."

In remote antiquity, people were calm and unhurried. Deer gathered, and elk lived side by side. Their minds were slow and at ease, and their lives were free and joyful. This was called yu (space). Having and non-having stand opposed to each other, high and low constrain each other, fullness and decline act upon each other, and vastness and minuteness reveal each other. Through this, the myriad things are born, and through this they die, decline, and take shape. This is called zhou (time). Yu speaks of how the conditions of things meet one another, and zhou speaks of how the principles of things pass through one another.

Therefore, the Dao has no fixed form: it is empty and still and becomes a single Qi, and when it spreads out it becomes the myriad things. The cosmos is precisely the place that carries and transmits the Dao.

Master Zihua said: When words draw a response, it is like a sound producing an echo. Before the echo has faded, the situation that answered it has already changed. When an intention has only just begun to form as thought, and the thought has not yet taken its course, the matter has already come to a halt. Why is this? Because the matter exceeds what the human spirit (Shen) is able to encompass.

Across the seventy-nine rulers of successive ages, their laws and institutions differed, and their decrees were not uniform, yet each of them once governed all under Heaven. Honoring the good and removing the wicked is the proper standard of law. They were able to do this through utmost sincerity. Where sincerity was neither pure nor clear, they could not govern all under Heaven.

Later generations, however, demanded generosity from others with a harsh and hasty attitude, and tested others' loyalty with hollow arguments. Their words did not come from their true hearts, and the meaning in their minds was not genuine, yet they still hoped to keep others from betraying them. This is truly lamentable. It is like describing what is upright as slanted in a room at dusk, like displaying white cloth while secretly concealing black, or like rocking a boat on land while hoping to set out on a river. Acting in this way, one can never reach the goal through luck.

Therefore, a ruler who wishes to govern all under Heaven and accomplish great things must first set the root right, so that the heart is firm and unwavering and sincerity is kept without loss. Only then can spoken words accord with true feeling, and only then can a rightly ordered intention be clearly expressed. Even if the age is in disorder and customs have decayed, I still cannot accept the claim that utmost sincerity cannot work as an echo answers a sound.

Zi Huazi (Zǐ Huázǐ) was living at Lingsai. Zhao Jianzi wished to employ him, so he sent an envoy with gifts to his dwelling, carrying this message: "Our Grandee lacks suitable men at his court, and has respectfully sent me to prepare these modest gifts and to trouble you, Master, to receive the envoy who conveys the command."

Zi Huazi returned the gifts, bowed twice, respectfully received the envoy, and invited him into the courtyard. Then he bowed once more and asked the envoy to convey this reply: "I am merely a subject of my lord. If I have committed an offense, how would I dare to evade punishment? It is only that I have not taken proper care of my body, and so I have fallen ill with the affliction of carrying firewood. Once my illness improves somewhat, I will go to court to pay my respects. How would I dare to let my lord's envoy trouble himself on my account again?"

The envoy said: "Our Grandee has one more message he asked me to respectfully pass on to you. He hopes to share with you the favor and blessings of Jin. Please do not decline, but lower yourself to come. He also wishes that your attendants may receive stipends and ranks."

Zi Huazi went down the steps to meet him, bowed again, and said: "I am only a subject of my lord. I hold no office at court, and I am gravely ill. I cannot fulfill the duties my lord would assign, and I do not dare to take part in them." He bowed twice more and saw the envoy out to the gate. Returning inside, he gathered his belongings to prepare for departure.

His disciples gathered together, puzzled. Beigong Zi said: "I have heard that when a person cultivates himself at home, his reputation spreads in public life. This is a principle common to past and present. The lord is a great minister of the state, and government orders issue from him. He has invited you in accordance with ritual, and yet you refuse. I fear this is not proper, is it?"

Zi Huazi said: "I thought you had already grasped what lies beyond the words, but I did not expect that you still harbored such a thought. Once such a thought arises in the heart, one's outward judgment becomes confused, and that is exactly what I mean about you. When my lord summoned me, could there have been no reason? He must already have arranged the office he intends for me. If one accepts an office arranged by another, one cannot calmly do what one has chosen to do. This is why the ancients were cautious about the appointments they accepted.

"Long ago, when I returned from Tan, I heard Confucius speak a passage that I have kept in mind to this day. Confucius's aspirations far exceeded those of ordinary people. Some time ago, when the lord summoned me, Confucius instead drove his carriage along the banks of the Yellow River and roamed about, unwilling to cross. He played the qin to give voice to his aspirations and named the piece 'Linhe zhi cao' (The Song of Facing the River). Its lyrics say: 'The Yellow River surges vast and wide; I, Qiu, will not cross this river. It is fate.' The reason Confucius would not go is the very reason I am leaving. I thought you had grasped what lies beyond the words, but I did not expect you still held such a thought. If you measure the mind of a gentleman by the eyes of ordinary people, you are likely to become confused."

Beigong Zi nonetheless insisted on taking Zi Huazi to see Zhao Jianzi. When Jianzi heard that Zi Huazi had arrived, he bowed twice and came out to greet him, saying: "I am fortunate to have received the protection of my ancestors' spirits, and so I am able to govern the people within the four borders. My former lords left a ritual for welcoming guests and established the rules of exchange, which the officers in charge of rites carry out. Master, you have condescended to come to our humble state for some time now. Recently the harvests have been poor, and my servants worry daily about their livelihoods. I wish to give you a tract of land some thirty or forty li, or perhaps fifty or sixty li, to sustain your horses and attendants. I beg you to consider my sincerity and remain here."

Zi Huazi replied: "I have no particular talent, and my years are advancing; my hair is thinning. I fear I cannot bear the affairs my lord would entrust to me, and would instead put the one in charge of punishments in a difficult position. My lord has a vast territory to govern the four quarters, but I truly cannot be equal to it."

The next day, Zi Huazi took his meal near Jiao Pavilion. Beigong Zi said: "The Lord of Qin has not wronged you, Master. Yet you flatly refused his goodwill and hurried away. You demand too much of people."

Zi Huazi said: "So it is, but this is not something you can understand. The Lord of Qin has lofty ambitions and far-reaching plans, and he holds high expectations of me. I cannot bear such expectations. You have surely also heard of the battle at Muye. When the six armies of Zhou drew up in formation at the outskirts, King Wu's shoelace came loose. Five ministers who were about to receive the oath of battle before him were asked by King Wu to tie his shoelace. The five looked at one another and said: 'We serve our sovereign, but not to tie his shoelaces.' King Wu then had to set down his banners and axes and tie the lace himself.

"A ruler who wishes his subjects to exert themselves fully in their duties must also allow them to refrain from certain things; only then can he hold them responsible for accomplishment. A subject who can steadfastly hold to what he will not do can thereby become capable of doing anything. I have not yet attained to being capable of everything, but at least I have come to be able to refrain from some things."

After Master Zihua left Zhao, Viscount Zhao Jianzi was deeply displeased. When Zhu Guo passed by the left side of the great gate, Zhao Jianzi summoned him and explained his reasons. Zhu Guo replied, "Zihua is only a commoner, yet he has arrogantly offended his lord. By law he cannot be spared, and a man like him cannot be employed to govern a state." Zhao Jianzi said, "Take troops and bring him back."

When Zhu Guo reached Lingsai, Zihua had already been gone for five days. Zhu Guo could not catch up and said, "It is too late." Zhao Jianzi regretted this. He sent an envoy to Qi and had Dong Anyu write a letter in his place, inviting Zihua to return.

Zihua bowed his head to receive the order and set out at once. He bowed to the envoy in the courtyard, bowed twice in respect, and handed over his reply, which read:

"I am So-and-so, the minister whose lord has already departed. I failed to restrain myself, and I have wandered far to the states of the feudal lords, causing my lord to worry on my account. I have heard that all things are bound by what they love, and that gentlemen are tied to the aims they hold to. Though your old minister lacks talent, he has aspirations beyond the four borders. How could he dare to bring shame upon the officials who serve you?

"When a hill rises high, a cave forms at its summit, and foxes make their home there. When a valley cuts deep, a pool forms at its base, and fish and turtles dwell in peace. When pines and cypresses grow thick, shade gathers beneath them, and travelers rest there in the cool. Though your old minister lacks talent, he truly has private reasons of his own. I hope the officials who serve you will understand what I hold in my heart. If they do, my lord's virtue will rise like the sun and the moon, shining over the state of Jin. Gentlemen from the four quarters will then cross mountains and wade rivers, coming one after another to assist my lord and to add to his fame. Would this be only for the sake of an old minister like me? Even if I end my days in the wilderness with my body cast into a ditch, how could I forget my lord's kindness? I earnestly hope the officials who serve you will understand and consider my heart."

After reading the letter, Zhao Jianzi warned his son Wuxu: "Zhu Guo is a petty man, and he truly led me into error. After my death, you must invite Zihua back. Do not forget this under any circumstances." Xiangzi replied, "Yes."

The Zihuazi, Volume Two, ends here.

Notes: In note 1, the character pronounced yong is written bu in the Siku Quanshu edition. In note 2, the character pronounced zheng should read dan in the Siku edition, which is more accurate. In notes 3 and 4, the character pronounced bi appears in the Daozang edition as a different character with the same reading, which is an error. It has been corrected according to the sense of the passage and the Siku edition. In note 5, the character pronounced bi in the Daozang edition is an error for bei, and it has been corrected on the same basis. In note 6, the character pronounced you in the Daozang edition is an error for fan, and it has been corrected accordingly. In note 7, the character pronounced gua appears as pou in the Siku edition. In note 8, the character pronounced chen appears as jun in the Siku edition. In note 9, the character pronounced ji appears as fan in both the Siku and Baizi editions, which is more accurate. In note 10, the character pronounced lin appears as cai in the Siku edition. In note 11, the character pronounced fan appears as hui in the Siku edition.

The Zihuazi, Volume Three, by Cheng Ben of the Jin dynasty.

Master Beigong takes up official service.

Beigong Zi was about to take office in the state of Wei. Zihua Zi asked him, "How have you cultivated your heart-mind? Could you tell me?"

Beigong Zi replied, "My studies are not yet complete, so I often lack firewood and must beg for food from others. Even so, I carefully keep in mind the good deeds I wish to do and avoid the evil deeds I detest, hoping that in this way I may roughly preserve myself."

Zihua Zi's expression grew grave, and he asked, "What kind of talk is this? Why should goodness be pursued deliberately, and evil deliberately avoided? I tell you: when the sage does not appear, the world falls into disorder, and people lose their way day by day. Everyone wishes to preserve themselves, yet in the end they lose their very selves. Wishing to extend their own desires to others, they end up losing others. If everyone acts in the name of goodness, then once a ruler rises up he will want to wash away the turmoil of his age, and who could then eliminate goodness? As long as the notion of goodness is not eliminated, disorder will not cease. Why, then, deliberately do good?"

Beigong Zi said, "So that is how it is! Please finish what you were saying."

Zihua Zi said, "Within the human heart there is a place, less than an inch across, that is empty, luminous, and complete. It is where the spirit (shen, shén) dwells. External things are numerous and tangled, like sorting a snarl of hemp, or like crossing a surging torrent. At one moment they cause fear, at another they cause dread of what is forbidden, and at yet another they subject a person to punishment. Thus within a single day, or even a brief moment, that inch-sized place in the heart turns cold and then hot. How could the spirit endure this? When the spirit cannot be retained, the heart is harmed. When the clear awareness cannot settle, the vital spirit is exhausted. Why, then, deliberately do good?

"The ancients who understood the Dao (Dao, dào) were as plain as broth without seasoning and as quiet as an infant about to fall asleep. They changed as things shifted and returned as external objects stirred. Their essence was pure and clean, and their vitality was abundant. Though they seemed to cling to nothing, they naturally preserved their original authenticity. Their spirit was at ease and settled, constantly in accord with the Dao. They did not pursue superfluous things, nor did they envy what others obtained. Who could explain the reason for this?

"You say you will carefully keep in mind the practice of goodness. Then who is to accept those who are not good? You say you will avoid what you detest. Then to whom will those evil deeds be assigned? You push others away and refuse to accept them, and when they come seeking shelter, you will not take them in. They will inevitably grow angry and resentful and set themselves against you. If you meet their resentment with a heart that you believe is righteous, how could strife not arise? Unending strife begins with quarreling, bullying, and cursing, and at its worst leads to shattered skulls and pierced chests. By your reasoning, the hope of preserving yourself is truly perilous."

Beigong Zi said, "Could it really be this serious?"

Zihua Zi said, "It is not only this. The source of calamity and the origin of chaos both lie in single-mindedly pursuing goodness and rejecting evil. Now those learned teachers and scholars, neatly capped and belted, proclaim exactly this doctrine, and so they summon disorder. Students who study also hold this notion deep in their hearts and act wholeheartedly upon it, which amounts to personally inviting calamity.

"Because of this, fathers are not kind, and sons are not filial. Elder brothers are not friendly, and younger brothers are not respectful. Husbands fail to keep their proper duties, and wives are not compliant. Rulers are not benevolent, and ministers are not loyal. The essential human relationships are corrupted, and the social order gradually perishes. Yet people still rush eagerly down this path, fearful of falling behind others. How lamentable!

"Shi Que, to protect his own reputation, had his son Shi Hou killed. Gongzi Zhe of Wei, wishing to monopolize the ruler's position, refused his father Kuai Kui's return. Duke Zhuang of Zheng, Wu Sheng, exiled his younger brother Gong Shu Duan. Zheng Hu was driven out, and Zheng Tu took the throne. Ji You of Lu poisoned Geng Fu, and Shu Xiang of Jin executed Shu Yu. Yong Jiu's wife displayed her husband's corpse at court. Zhongzi wished to entrust his family to Lu, yet first killed his own wife. The late Duke Li of Jin killed three men over a single remark, and Hua Dufu murdered Duke Shang of Song, Yi. Even a rough outline of such cases would be countless. All of these people believed they had obtained what they desired and avoided what they did not, yet they still corrupted human relationships and destroyed the social order, and people competed to imitate them. How lamentable!

"I tell you, the source of chaos and the origin of calamity both lie in single-mindedly pursuing goodness and rejecting evil. The human heart is originally empty and luminous. When it fails to obtain what it wants, it becomes doubtful, and when it meets what it does not want, it becomes confused. When doubt fills the heart, conflict and harm arise. A father who does not doubt his son has a son who is naturally filial. An elder brother who does not doubt his younger brother has a younger brother who naturally respects him. A husband who does not doubt his wife has a wife who is naturally faithful. A ruler who does not doubt his ministers has ministers who are naturally loyal. These are results that can be seen directly.

"When a hundred tasks are accomplished, if one is doubted, the path is blocked. When three people walk together, if one harbors doubt, their deliberations stall. In an age when the Great Dao prevails, superiors and inferiors understand one another, and there is no suspicion. The sage kings Yao and Shun, and the rulers of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, did not deliberately strive to become kings, yet the world was well governed. This was because they followed the upright Way, and so the world was at peace.

"The reason the world is stable lies in government being even and fair. The reason government is even and fair lies in people's hearts being even and fair. The reason people's hearts are even and fair lies in the inner mind being balanced. Balance is like a scale: add a little weight, and it tilts. Imposing on others what you yourself are unwilling to bear creates an even greater imbalance. Therefore, one who boasts of merit cannot accomplish anything, and one who merely harbors desires cannot reach his goal. Not only does this fail to bring blessings, it invites calamity. For this reason, I do not agree with your view.

"If you cultivate yourself to be peaceful and act according to the upright Way, where could you not succeed? What enterprise could not be accomplished? Why, then, deliberately pursue goodness? Moreover, goodness cannot be realized through deliberate action. Yao once asked, 'How can I manage my affairs well?' Shun asked the same question. If those above and those below compete to display their own good conduct, each side clings to its own position. When both sides cling, how can there be balance? Without balance, how can there be uprightness? Once balance and uprightness are lost, Yao would no longer be Yao, and Shun would no longer be Shun. Keep carefully in mind the reputations of Yao and Shun. Why, then, deliberately pursue goodness?"

Beigong Zi went to Wei and lodged in the household of Shu Che. Shu Che enjoyed the favor of the ruler of Wei, and the people of the state resented him and planned to attack him. Beigong Zi sighed and said, "It is precisely because I went against the Master's words that I have met with calamity here. Why did I come to Wei at all?" He then resigned from his post as a minister and left Wei.

Yanzi governed the district of A for three years, but many slanders about him circulated at court. The Lord of Qi grew displeased and summoned him, intending to remove him from office. Yanzi apologized and said, "I know I have made mistakes. Please allow me to govern for three more years." After three years, the whole state praised him, and songs in his praise spread throughout the land. The Lord of Qi meant to reward him, but Yanzi declined.

The Lord asked, "Why is this?" Yanzi replied, "In the places I governed before, where I should have been commended by my ruler, I instead incurred blame. Now, in the place I govern, where I should have been punished, I instead receive reward. This does not accord with my own intention, so I am unwilling to accept it."

Zihua Zi heard of this and said, "Yanzi may be called upright, and he does not flatter. His refusal of the reward is enough to serve as a lesson. That Qi declined and fell into ruin truly had its causes.

"It is the common disposition of people to praise those who are like themselves, to help those who are like themselves, and to favor those who are like themselves. Reverse the favor, and dislike arises. Reverse the help, and some are pushed aside. Reverse the praise, and some are slandered. Yet the ruler fails to notice this, so the ministers who handle affairs at his side follow their own desires, and the ruler does not forbid it. The stability and chaos of the world often lie between these two. That Qi declined and fell into ruin truly had its causes."

Zihua Zi said, "Yuan (primordial Qi) is the vital energy of the great beginning. When the Heavenly Emperor (Tiandi) obtains it, he can move without ceasing. When Houtu (the Earth Goddess) obtains it, she becomes vast and boundless. When a person possesses yuan, the parts of the body are governed by it.

"The ancient makers of characters understood this principle. Therefore, keeping hold of the primordial Qi and making it whole was written as 'wan' (complete). Damaging what one holds was written as 'kou' (bandit). Adding standards and restraints so that things are kept in order was written as 'guan' (cap). Thus, to ruin and break what one holds is called 'kou,' and to damage and plunder is called 'zei' (thief). Breaking through walls and prying open chests and locks are merely the deeds of petty thieves."

The end of Volume Three of the Master Zihua (Zihua Zi).

Laws and standards can at times also become the robbers who wear the robes of propriety. Thus it is said that one who destroys and clings to private gain at the expense of others may be called a "bandit" (kou), while one who ruins and injures others is a "thief" (zei). As for boring through walls or prying open chests and cabinets, these are no more than petty pilfering.

Volume Four of the Master Zihua

Written by Cheng Ben of the State of Jin.

Hu Hui Asks

Hu Hui privately asked Master Cheng (Chengzi), "What kind of ruler is a true ruler?" Master Cheng replied, "In the days when Yao and Shun held the throne, the talk on the roads and the discussions in the lanes were never forbidden."

Huhui privately asked Master Cheng, "What sort of ruler is our lord?" Cheng replied, "In the days when Yao and Shun held the throne, people were not forbidden to debate in the streets and lanes. Only one who can distinguish right from wrong deserves to be called a man of learning. Let me tell you about this matter, though I dare not use ancient examples as evidence.

"Your late forebear, Master Wenzi, loved learning and was willing to accept advice and remonstrance. When he stood, he was so humble it seemed he could not bear his own robes, and when he spoke, he was extremely cautious. He recommended forty-six scholars from poor families, and he was able to perceive the true sincerity of each one, so the state benefited from them. After Master Wenzi died, all forty-six withdrew to the position of guests, showing that they did not let private gratitude override public duty. To love learning is wisdom; to accept remonstrance is benevolence; to be free of partiality is loyalty.

"When the Yangzi first issues from Mount Min, its stream is no wider than the mouth of a jar, yet it can still float a wine cup. Flowing downstream and gathering the waters of many regions, it stretches for thousands of miles, until boats must sail side by side to cross it. There is no other reason for this than that it receives waters from more than one source downstream. This is how Master Wenzi taught people. Thus, through filial virtue he made his ancestral clan flourish, through reverent virtue he held high office, and through martial virtue he became chief minister. In this way he gained renown in Jin, assisted the ruler, and presided over alliance meetings of the feudal lords. The people of the realm relied on his benevolence, and for nearly ten years weapons were not drawn.

"Now, if our lord wishes to display achievements and bring glory to the Zhao clan, he should emulate Master Wenzi. Take virtue and righteousness as the standard, and promote his accomplishments, and your lord will be renowned throughout the four quarters. The Fan and Zhonghang clans could not restrain themselves, and in the end they lost their clans and their ministerial positions. This is the lesson our lord knows well."

Huhui said, "Master, you have explained this clearly. Please say more. If I have the chance to see our lord, I hope to help him correct his ways."

Cheng said, "Does the Book of Odes not say, 'If the ruler wishes to become a fine jade, he should accept frank remonstrance'? Correcting a ruler's crooked intentions and helping him onto the right path is what a loyal minister must attend to. You should strive to do this.

"I have heard that where there are fierce tigers in the mountains, the forests need not be cleared, and where rivers accept foul water, the many tributaries will gather within them. In the past, Duke Mu of Qin believed that Qin lacked capable men. So he raised Jian Shu from the land of Wan, brought Peng Bao from Zheng, summoned You Yu from the Rong lands, and selected Baili Xi from the marketplace. He used these men to strengthen the army and to contend with Jin and Chu. At that time Jin was weakened and could only obey Qin. Therefore, a state rests on its talented men, and one cannot fail to examine them carefully.

"Now, while our lord has not yet attained his aims, Dou Shuzi is behind him recommending talent, Shunhua makes up for what he has overlooked so that affairs accord with right order, and Wuqiu Zhen exerts his abilities to take charge of maintaining order. I have heard that Dou Shuzi is strong and steadfast in character, firm in his stance, upright and solemn, and unbending. In serving our lord he is cautious and self-restrained, with no divided heart. Shunhua is broadly learned and has a retentive memory, and he is ashamed that what he has learned cannot benefit the sages of antiquity. His arguments are firm, and others cannot easily shake him. Wuqiu Zhen was known for his courage at fifteen. When he came of age and traveled abroad on missions, the neighboring states were all afraid of him. He could hurl one man at another, and he could hurl one chariot at another. In his eyes, the steep passes of Mount Taihang were no more than small hills a few zhang high. These three men are outstanding talents of Jin, who can assist our lord in achieving merit and bringing glory to the Zhao clan.

"The ducal house has already split into six households, and the rivers and mountains between them are like a cracked tortoise shell or a tripod standing on three legs. The Fan and Zhonghang clans could not preserve their ancestral temples, and their lineages withered with them. If our lord wishes to avoid repeating their fate, he must rely on the help of these three men. Yet now he has, without cause, killed Shuzi and left Shunhua's body in the wilds, for crimes that even the people of the state do not know. Wuqiu Zhen, frightened by this, has taken provisions and fled to another state. Has our lord never considered this? Why are his actions before and after so contradictory? If this continues, our lord will move further and further from true hegemony.

"You are a minister whom our lord trusts. Who has no faults? One who can correct his errors is respected even by the sages. Now you do not fear trouble, and you are willing to use your modest sincerity to remonstrate with our lord and mend his mistakes, so the state and its people will benefit. You should strive to do this."

Zi Huazi paid a visit to Duke Jing of Qi. The Duke said, "I hope that worthy men will not shrink from trouble, and will use subtle insight to advise the ruler on his faults and oversights, so that the people have something to rely upon. Master, I ask that you exert yourself in this."

Zi Huazi paid a visit to Duke Jing of Qi. The Duke asked, "How should one go about governing a state?" Zi Huazi replied, "In my view, the state need not be managed deliberately, and affairs of government need not all be set in order by one's own hand. If one holds the intention to accomplish things, one's vision narrows; if one holds the intention to govern everything thoroughly, one's understanding becomes shallow. To possess a state is to possess a weighty enterprise, and to sustain it requires a broad heart. A narrow heart and shallow understanding are plainly insufficient to bear the great responsibility of governing a state. Therefore I say that the state need not be managed deliberately, and affairs of government need not all be set in order personally."

The Duke said, "Then can the state not be governed at all?" Zi Huazi said, "That is not so. By governance, I mean governing in accordance with the Dao (the Way, the fundamental law by which all things operate). The governance of the Dao rests on deep foundations and does not seek to attend to every detail. One reveres and holds fast to the root, fills the inner nature of the people, and does not demand that everyone be proficient in everything, but lets each person devote himself to mastering a single skill. When every skill is put to use, the four quarters are at peace. This accords with the arrangement of Heaven's Dao: it appears not to seek completeness in all things, yet it brings the myriad beings into harmony.

The reason the Divine Farmer (Shennong) could govern for so long, the reason Yao and Shun achieved such distinguished results, and the reason Great Yu governed diligently, all follow from this principle. When a ruler believes himself clever, he regards others as foolish; when he believes himself skillful, he regards others as clumsy. Then those deemed foolish can only ask for instructions, and those deemed capable can only report. The more matters are reported, the more people come to ask for instructions, until everyone is coming to ask. Even a ruler who is clever and diligent cannot know everything. To answer an endless flow of requests with limited knowledge is to bring governance inevitably into difficulty. If the ruler is constantly held captive by his ministers' affairs, how can he rule the common people? To be trapped in difficulty without realizing it, and instead to think that one grasps more, is what is called a 'state of layered blockage' (a state in which communication between ruler and subjects is cut off and orders cannot get through).

When above there is a ruler who does not allow people to speak frankly, and below there is a climate of perfunctory and careless conduct, the calamity arises from a ruler who is eager to accomplish things and insists on forcing good order. Holding the single-minded thought of achieving and forcing order, one instead invites the calamity of blockage above and below. Therefore I say that the state need not be managed deliberately, and affairs of government need not be set in order personally.

In the ages of clear and proper government of the past, rulers followed the course of things without acting rashly. They required their officials to carry out their duties, but did not issue orders in their stead. Setting aside private desires and fixed opinions, they waited in stillness and emptiness. They did not boast in their speech, and did not usurp the duties of others in their actions. They checked the facts against the proper titles, and let each official fulfill his office. They took not regarding themselves as all-knowing as the principle of governance, and took not interfering deliberately as the essential key to ruling the state.

The Divine Farmer asked how one could bring the myriad things into harmony and align the movements of the sun, moon, and stars. Yao asked how one could ensure that every place touched by the light of the sun and moon was well governed. Shun asked how one could bring distant lands to submission. Yu asked how one could govern the remote and strange regions of Qingbei and Jiuyang. Because of these inquiries, these rulers were regarded by the people of the realm as meritorious and by later generations as capable, and what the histories record is precisely these matters.

I am by nature frank and dull, and when I first came to court I had doubts in private. The reason Qi has become the Qi of today is likely different from the reasons elsewhere. The bells and drums and the zhuyu (an ancient musical instrument) are struck every day, yet no harmonious music is heard. The Minister of Works (Sikong, the official in charge of construction, punishments, and related affairs) keeps the instruments of punishment in constant use, yet the criminals grow ever more numerous. Visiting lords and guests exhaust their tongues, competing to offer flattering words; those who serve at court close at hand deceive the ruler. Even ordinary servants and slaves all understand that the ruler's mind is restless and given to desire, and that people are fabricating labor and tasks to bewitch his heart, yet the ruler remains entirely unaware.

The ruler dons his crown of office at dawn and sits upright to hear affairs of state, worrying anxiously as he compares himself to the sage rulers of old, yet inwardly he is at ease and self-satisfied. Who, then, would willingly use their humble station to probe the ruler's preferences and bring down unforeseeable calamity upon themselves? When I first came to court I was perplexed by this. Examining the origins of these circumstances, I find it is because the ruler's private desires are too strong, and where private desires are too strong, the Dao cannot gather. The unworthy ministers then echo and agree with him, so that the malady deepens day by day until it becomes entrenched, as though it had become his very nature, and the ruler never comes to know it. With your wisdom, if you clear away what is stagnant and open a path toward the Dao, who could stand in your way?

I have also heard that the transformations of the myriad things and the development of all affairs cannot be controlled by human effort, nor can they be thoroughly investigated. Only by following the original tendency of things can one grasp the key to them. Therefore I say that the state need not be managed deliberately, and affairs of government need not be set in order personally."

Duke Jing said, "The Master's words are vast and profound. I wish to respond, but I do not know where to begin. The Dao you describe is boundless, and I am unable to attain it. Yet the words you have spoken have truly stirred my narrow thinking."

After Zi Huazi withdrew, he went to dine at the home of the Yan family.

Zihuazi went to visit Jishen. Jishen said: "Ever since I began following my teacher, the tracks of our carriages and horses have spread across the four directions, and not a single year has passed in which we could settle down. My teacher has grown weary and fallen ill because of it. I am troubled in my heart, but my knowledge is shallow, and I do not understand the breadth of my teacher's aims. The world has lost the proper Way (Dao), and right and wrong are confused and unclear. Where will my teacher go, carrying these doctrines from place to place? I wish to ask, but I dare not speak lightly. I hope you will instruct me."

Zihuazi replied: "It is so. Zhongni (Confucius) is like Heaven. How could Zhongni turn away from the myriad things of the world and dwell alone in peace? How could Zhongni stay apart from people and attend only to oneself? If the sun and moon did not shine upon heaven and earth, people, even holding up their fingers before their eyes, would lose their bearings. Zhongni is the plumb line and measure for the people of the world. Though the travels are indeed toilsome, how could there be time to grieve over one's own hardships?"

Jishen asked: "May I ask why you do not come forward to put your aspirations into practice?"

Zihuazi said: "My abilities, how could they compare with those of my teacher? My teacher is like an axle that is square and a hub that turns round. It adapts wherever it goes, and there is no place it cannot reach. I, however, have my limits. I use my finite capacity to follow the boundless workings of my teacher, and I can only walk behind."

[End of the Zihuazi, Scroll Four.]

The Zihuazi, Scroll Five, by Cheng Ben of the Jin dynasty.

Yanzi

Zihuazi said to Yanzi: "Between heaven and earth there is a thing called 'hidden killing' (yinlu)."

Zihua Zi said to Yan Zi: "Between heaven and earth there is a punishment without sound or form, one that people often fail to notice. Whoever understands this is perhaps close to the Dao (the Way)."

Yan Zi asked: "What do you mean by this?"

Zihua Zi said: "Heaven and earth bring forth talented people only with great difficulty, and once they are born, they must have a purpose. How could one suppress and conceal them so that they cannot be put to use? This is what heaven and earth most abhor. The sun and moon illuminate it, Yin-Yang stirs in response to it, and ghosts and spirits observe it. For this reason, the laws of the sovereigns decree that those who recommend worthy men are rewarded, and those who fail to recommend talent are punished. Rewarding goodness and punishing evil has effects that extend into later generations.

"Things of great worth often keep their essence hidden deep within, protected by spirits, and cannot be seen through by human cleverness. Gold lies buried in sand, jade is enclosed in raw stone, and pearls grow in deep, remote pools. Camphor and nanmu trees, from which great vessels can be made, also tend to grow in deep mountains and perilous valleys. When these materials are cut, selected, and worked, if they do not accord with the proper measures, they may meet with calamities such as tigers, wolves, dragons, serpents, and poisonous snakes, or they may be injured by thunderbolts, landslides, and collapsing hills. Why is this so? Because heaven and earth bring forth talent with difficulty, they must intend for it to be put to use. To suppress and conceal talent so that it cannot grow is to go against the will of heaven and to defile heaven's clarity. When one goes against the will of heaven and defiles its clarity, the spirits send down punishment. The strong are broken, the prosperous are ruined, households decline, and clans are exterminated. This is called 'hidden slaughter,' a punishment sent down in secret. It is like a key fitting a lock or a seal pressed into vermilion paste: the punishment always corresponds to the deed, and retribution comes as swiftly as an echo."

Yan Zi was astonished and exclaimed: "Your words are truly shocking. I am willing to keep listening until I understand them fully."

Zihua Zi said: "You need not be surprised. What I say has grounds. It is the common feeling of people to dislike destruction and fear loss, and to guard especially closely whatever they cherish. If someone suddenly harms the thing he treasures most, he will surely rise up to fight. If he fails to win, he grows discouraged and loses his resolve. Once discouraged and deprived of resolve, he fills with anger, as if no force in the world could withstand him. Heaven and earth bring forth talent and cherish and guard it deeply. How does the feeling with which heaven and earth protect talent differ from the common feeling of people? Yet the people of the world do not understand this. They rely only on private desires and crafty schemes, slandering and pushing aside one another, hoping by luck to get ahead of others. But how can people prevail over the scrutiny of heaven and earth or the presence of the spirits? This truly inspires awe. If heaven and earth become discouraged and angry because talent is suppressed, and they fill the space between heaven and earth with that anger, which then takes the form of Yin-Yang punishment descending upon people, the consequences will be dire. Once such a momentum has formed, it is no wonder. What is sad is that most people do not understand this. Perhaps those who do understand are close to the Dao (the Way).

"I, Cheng, am a rustic of the state of Jin. I once read of events recorded in old histories. In the past, when the former grandee Le Wuzi held office, he was diligent and reverent day and night, correcting abuses, supporting the upright, and serving his ruler with complete loyalty. His reputation was distinguished and recorded in the chronicles of the feudal lords. His successors were not like this. They abandoned the aspirations of their forebears, indulged themselves, considered themselves worthy and capable, relied on favor to wield power, pushed aside talented men, and thought only of expanding their own influence. The people of the state loathed them as one loathes sand in the eye. Their intentions grew more and more crooked, and they brought punishment upon themselves, and so the Le clan was destroyed.

"When the former grandee Sui Wuzi held office, he was clever, perceptive, and broadly learned. He was an elder of great virtue and reputation in Jin, yet he never grew complacent. He often said: 'There are things I have not yet seen, things I do not yet know, and things I have not yet heard of.' He worked diligently by day and constantly recommended talented people to the court, so that no capable man in Jin was left unrecognized. For this reason he built merit at court, and his sons and brothers succeeded one another as ministers of Jin. His successors, however, considered themselves right and clung stubbornly to mistaken views. They destroyed the root and blocked the source, more cruel than poisonous snakes, and they favored only flattering petty men. The wise kept away from them, and the good withdrew into obscurity. Their intentions grew more and more crooked, and they brought punishment upon themselves, and so the Fan clan was destroyed.

"When the former grandee Zhonghang Wenzi held office, he identified and promoted outstanding talent and employed those who had long been unrecognized. When others had skills, he valued them as if he himself possessed those skills. He was cautious and diligent and never slackened. He judged only by whether a person did his utmost, and so he was able to assist his ruler in renewing covenants with the feudal lords. His successors, however, took harshness for discernment, deception for cleverness, cruelty for loyalty, the use of scheming for virtue, and the extortion of wealth for competence. They weakened others and feared that anyone might surpass them. Carriages and horses crowded their gates like a market, yet they valued only profit. Treacherous men seized the opportunity to indulge their evil desires, and their conduct was deceitful as a demon's. Their intentions grew more and more crooked, and they brought punishment upon themselves, and so the Zhonghang clan was destroyed.

"These three houses were all noble ministerial families of Jin for generations, with deep roots and lofty standing. Their ancestors also possessed virtue and were protected by heaven and the spirits. But their later heirs abandoned the instructions of their ancestors, and in the end their households were ruined and their lineages cut off. Their ancestors also lost the chance to receive sacrifices in Jin. There was no other cause. They relied on their powerful families and numerous dependents, looked down on principle, and believed that human strength could overcome the will of heaven. Harboring jealousy and violating the wish of heaven and earth to cherish talent, they received such a severe punishment.

"As for those of lowly birth and declining households who gain their emoluments and stipends by stealing the titles and rewards of others, and who hope by luck to seize brief wealth and honor, their hearts are empty and fearful. They fear that others will surpass them. Before a matter is clarified and before distinctions are made clear, they suppress and conceal talent so that it cannot grow. The calamities they bring upon themselves will likely be even deeper than those of the three houses of Jin.

"Building a wall that seeks only height while ignoring the firmness of its foundation, the wall will collapse as its footing tilts, no matter how high it stands. To cover the eyes and ears of others with one's hands and think oneself clever, while not realizing that the calamity of deafness and blindness has already turned back upon oneself: alas, is this not a profound sorrow?"

Yan Zi said: "Your words are truly shocking. Had it not been for you, I would never have heard these principles. I wish to carve them on my pèixī, a belt ornament, as a warning, and to remember them forever."

Yanzi asked Zihua Zi, "The ducal house of Qi, meaning the ruling clan and its government, is growing weak. What should be done?"

Zihua Zi replied, "When a person holds such a wish, Heaven is sure to comply with it. Since Qi wishes for the ducal house to weaken, what is there to worry about? How could this wish fail to be fulfilled?

In the past, the Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, had twenty-five clans, and so his blessings spread across the world and are still remembered today. When the Zhou royal house was established, the feudal states granted to the Ji surname numbered seventy. Fingers cannot direct the arm, just as the arm cannot govern the whole body.

Now, since the times of Duke Xiang and Duke Huan, the clans of Qi's ducal house have gradually declined. At court there are no people of the ducal house, and in the countryside there are no fields belonging to it. Those who wear armor, bear weapons, and fight from chariots are not warriors of the ducal house, and those who wear official sashes, hold posts, and are entered in the registers are not its officials. The sons of the ducal clan and their descendants are scattered in all directions and can only associate with servants. Those whom the ruler can rely on and keep close are naturally those who share his clan and surname. The Book of Poetry says, "Are there no other people? Yet they are not as good as my own kin." Why should the ruler stand alone above the multitude? Since Qi wishes for the ducal house to weaken, what is there to worry about? How could this wish fail to come true?

Now, when people divide goods, they set up the gouce (the instrument used to weigh and decide). It is not that the gouce itself makes the division fair, but that it gives good and bad, much and little, a clear basis, so that people have nowhere to lay blame and no cause to complain.

Therefore, although the sage probes deeply into the transformations of things and judges by knowledge and measure, he still uses tortoise-shell divination and milfoil stalks to make decisions, so that his speech rests on fairness. Even when the sounds he produces accord with the musical pitches and his conduct follows the rules, he still uses the balance, the measures of capacity, the ruler, and the weight as standards, so that fairness has a norm. Even when his principles are proper and his instruction is orderly, so that no one under heaven dares to criticize them, he still uses written contracts and regulations as guidelines, so that people keep their word. Even when his kindness is widespread and his authority reaches the four quarters, so that everyone under heaven willingly submits, he still takes laws, institutions, and ritual canons as the measure, so that justice is established.

Qi, however, is not like this. Its measures of governance all arise from private interest. Moreover, the ducal house bears the resentment of the multitude while the private households enjoy the benefits, and the ducal house bears the empty name while the private households possess the real gains. The decline of Qi's ducal house was not brought about in a single day. Therefore, since Qi wishes for the ducal house to weaken, what is there to worry about? How could this wish fail to come true?"

Master Zihua said: In antiquity, the sage kings who established laws built them on a fundamental Dao (dào) at the root and secondary measures at the branches. They followed the principles already present and did not presume to invent new ones. They kept to established norms without acting arbitrarily, and they set aside excessive desires and admiration. They timed their governance to the four seasons and kept it in step with the changes of cold and heat. With little need for speech, the common people were transformed; without compulsion, the people naturally submitted. Thus, when governance accords with nature, its scope becomes vast, and when it holds fast to the root, its order becomes secure.

If one's whole mind is set on creating new standards in minor details, what is made will deliberately injure the very source of the true standards. Standards are only rough norms for governing the world, and even these should not be mixed with private intent. How much less should one deliberately craft the arts of Dao (the cultivation and governance methods that accord with the Dao)? An ancient book says: follow the regularities of the Dao and assist all things in developing according to their own nature, and even Heaven, Earth, and the four quarters could not compare with it. Across seventy-nine generations of rulers, the laws were all different, yet each ruled over the world, precisely because each employed this principle.

End of Volume Five of the Zihuazi.

Yanzi went to see Zihua Zi and said, "The other day I had an audience with the ruler. He disliked his officials forming cliques and asked me what means should be used to eliminate this tendency, and I could not answer him at the time. Since you, Master, are willing to point out what I failed to consider, I wish to listen with an open mind."

Zihua Zi said, "Alas, if the ruler has said such things, Qi may be in danger. Itinerant scholars (shi who hold no office at court and travel about seeking employment) cannot gain a foothold at the ruler's court precisely because they are branded as members of cliques. When a ruler greatly detests officials forming cliques, the senior ministers who manage affairs close to him have a pretext. They rely on the ruler's deep favor, and their own roots are firmly planted. They turn away from the proper way and form tight private factions. On the surface they seem to scatter their people among various posts, but in secret they are bound together and weave a network. Anyone who is not one of their own cannot be admitted into their circle, even if he differs only slightly from them."

"Scholars of upright conduct who cherish their reputations will not give up their purity to follow the corruption of others. They keep as far away from such people as they can, so naturally they cannot enter this circle. For this reason, the senior ministers who manage affairs close to the ruler use the purity of these scholars to blacken their names and accuse them of forming cliques. The ruler, unable to discern the truth, simply acts on his own dislike, and so scholars are exiled, executed, and humiliated."

"Scholars who cherish their reputations reduce their expenses and guard themselves carefully, able to subsist on a basket of rice. Who would willingly risk their precious lives by doing what is certain to anger the ruler? Alas, if the ruler has said such things, Qi is in danger."

"When the petty men first came to Qi, only those who differed slightly from them were excluded. Now even those suspected of resembling them have vanished from sight. When the petty men first arrived in Qi, those who bent themselves to flatter and fawn were not necessarily in power. Now such people already wear ceremonial robes and ride in high carriages (the carriages of eminent officials). The petty men have not been in Qi for long, yet the situation has become like this, and the calamities for Qi may not yet have reached their limit."

"The ruler does not see the truth, and the senior ministers who manage affairs close to him act in accordance with what the ruler dislikes, using the opportunity to damage the conduct of itinerant scholars. If this continues, everyone at the Qi court will become a member of a private faction. As the days pass, high platforms and staircases may even be built within the palace, and the ruler will know nothing of it. Alas, if the ruler has said such things, Qi is in danger."

Zi Huazi said to Yanzi, "A well-governed state shows observable signs. Have you heard of them, Grand Master?" Yanzi replied, "I would be glad to hear you explain." Zi Huazi said, "I fear the state of Qi is in danger."

Zi Huazi continued: "In ancient times, when government was clear, the ruler's aims were upright and cultivated, and his ministers shared the same virtue and agreed on the same principles, with no divided hearts. No one at court held office by luck, and no one neglected his duties. In the fields in every direction, tools were used at the proper seasons, and ditches were dug to suit the lay of the land. The common people were sincere and law-abiding, and officials and commoners alike respectfully obeyed their ruler. The customs were calm and stable, no epidemics arose, and neighboring states ceased their wars and came bearing jade and gifts to seek friendship, acknowledging Qi's prestige. If this is not a sign of clear government, what is?

"Now, in Qi, upright speech cannot be heard, and the ruler cannot see clearly. The court is in disorder with no one to set it right, the fields lie waste, and famine follows famine. Qi is far from clear government, and there is no proper channel at court through which speech can rise step by step. I have heard it said that when those below cannot speak, this is called 'muteness,' and when those above cannot hear advice, this is called 'deafness.' A court where the ruler cannot hear and the ministers cannot speak lets the ruler indulge his will, while the ministers are weighed down by many fears. This describes Qi.

"Gě, shēng, sháo, and yuè are all ancient units of measure, and only by accumulating them can one make a hu. Mount Tai is high, but it was not piled from a single stone. The Bohai Sea east of Langya is so vast it seems to meet the sky, but it was not formed from a single drop of water. Governing the state and the realm likewise cannot rely on the opinion of one person. Yet the men who now hold power in Qi are truly muddled. They take black for bright, call a fox grey-blue, and say one is two and two is three, while the ruler cannot stop them.

"They form factions to shield their own faults, and they push aside those who dare to speak frankly. Meanwhile, those who flatter smoothly and turn with the wind come to the ruler's presence every day, winning favor by pleasing him and gaining power by relying on his intimacy. The ruler cannot stop this either. If one chooses a horse by its appearance and coat color rather than by its stamina, one will never find a fine runner. If one chooses jade by its size and dimensions rather than by whether it is firm, lustrous, pure, and flawless, one will never obtain a gem worth a city. Choosing men of talent works the same way. If one does not weigh their ability and looks only at their rank and lineage, then men like Yi Yin and Zhongfu, the minister of Duke Huan of Qi, could never stand at court.

"Qi lies by the sea, its back against the mountains, its territory broad, and its roads reach in every direction. By nature it ought to be a place where wandering scholars gather. Yet the men the ruler now keeps close are either the private followers of the Bao family or the partisans of the Cui and Tian clans. Wandering scholars have no place to stand, and so they leave. When they go, the signs of clear government will not remain.

"I have heard that when a remote village offers sacrifice to the earth god, a single cup of wine and a single piece of meat are enough. Even a ruined state can seek blessing from the spirits without great difficulty. Qi is now declining badly. The goals of good governance it could reach are less than half of what the ancients achieved, yet the accomplishments it has already made are largely complete. This shows that the trouble lies in failing to employ worthy men and to heed honest counsel. You, Sir, can see the ruler morning and evening, yet you still hold back for your own sake and will not speak words of warning to urge him to rouse himself. Your benevolence, Sir, is surely too narrow."

Yanzi said, "Well said. Without you, I would never have heard these words. To the ruler, I am no better than a dog or a pig among his ministers. You have spoken frankly to correct me, and I am truly at fault."

Yan Zi asked Zihua Zi: "The sages prize frugality. Does this view have support in the ancient classics?"

Zihua Zi replied: "It does. Frugality is a virtue the sages treasure, a principle for governing the world, and a Way (Dao) left by the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors for later generations to examine."

Yan Zi said: "I have heard that Yao did not regard houses with earthen steps as shabby, while Shun was wary of using lacquered decoration. Is this what is meant by their prizing frugality?"

Zihua Zi said: "What exactly do you mean by frugality, Grand Master? True frugality lies in the heart, not in external things, and in the self, not in wealth. When the heart keeps to emptiness and stillness and governs the five sense organs (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body), Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) flow in harmony, and Shen (spirit) moves freely and without obstruction. To restrain what disperses outward and to be cautious about what is received from outside allows the spirit to stay calm and at ease and the Qi to remain undisturbed. When one perceives things clearly and stands firm in the face of affairs, this is what is called frugality. It is the principle of governing the world that sages treasure, and the Way left by the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors.

"But what do you, Grand Master, mean by the frugality you describe? Balancing expenditure against income is the work of a household steward. Accumulating profit and controlling surplus is the practice of merchants. Counting the members of a household and rationing their food is the concern of village commoners. The Son of Heaven, however, dwells in palaces. He is the great figure who holds all under heaven, governs the myriad things, and commands the people, and the goods produced throughout the realm must be offered to him and kept in readiness. This has been the constant duty of the honored in every age. How could one measure the bearing of Yao and Shun by the concerns of village commoners, the practices of merchants, and the duties of stewards? Such notions are only the insistence of pedantic scholars and the mutual blinding of worldly prejudice. The claims of 'earthen steps' and 'lacquered decoration' are merely tales told by rustic people and are not recorded in any reliable classic.

"I have heard that Yao lived in the Qushi Palace, where he deliberated and heard governance. His garments were wide and orderly, and his halls were deep and solemn, like the dwelling of a spirit. He gathered the Five Auspicious Jades to receive the feudal lords from every region, and the lords came bearing ceremonial ornaments to pay court, like stars circling the Northern Dipper. Yao remained perfectly composed throughout. Shun walked through a spacious hall in ceremonial robes and played the five-stringed zither. The grand banner was painted with the sun and moon, his ceremonial robes bore twelve kinds of emblems, and the black and yellow patterns were bright and splendid. When he went out, he was accompanied by luan and he bells, and when he stepped forward, his jade pendants chimed; every movement accorded with the rhythm of ritual and music. Shun too rested easily in these ceremonies and vessels.

"Since the ceremonies and vessels of Yao and Shun were so complete, how could they have lived only on three-foot earthen steps with unrepaired thatched roofs? And how could they have refrained from using lacquer out of fear of extravagance? These claims are only the positions of pedantic scholars, and they arise from the mutual blinding of worldly prejudice. That is why the classics do not record them. Jie and Zhou lost the realm because they lacked benevolence, not because they were extravagant. To guard against extravagance, one has the standard of ritual: where ritual permits simplicity, one is simple; where it permits abundance, one is abundant. How could a ruler who governs the four seas and bears the weight of all under heaven return home to live on earthen steps, wanting to use lacquer yet not daring to? This is plainly unreasonable.

"Moreover, when the former kings established ritual, jade pendants, gait, and the like were each assigned a grade, and banners, crowns, and ceremonial guards were used to display rank. Today, worldly people do not understand ritual. Occupying high positions, they press upon those beneath them; holding exalted status, they seize from the weak. If one who holds the most honored station is supported by people living in the poverty of servants, it becomes difficult to treat subordinates well. Not only does one appear mean oneself, but one also cannot generously provide for kin or offer abundant sacrifices to the ancestors. To say 'this is my frugality' under such conditions is no different from the conduct of the uncivilized, is it not?"

Yan Zi said: "Well said. Had it not been for you, I would never have heard such a principle. From now on, I dare not describe frugality as mere simplicity and economy again."

Zihuazi, Scroll Six

The scroll is titled "Zihuazi, Scroll Six." The following are textual variants, showing that some characters are written differently in different editions. The character pronounced "hu" appears as "huo" in the Siku Quanshu edition. The character "guan" is written as "gong." The character "zhi" stays as "zhi." The character "yi" is written as "you." The character "bi" is written as "pian." The character "yu" is written as "guo."

Zihuazi, Scroll Seven

Written by Cheng Ben of the state of Jin

Zhizhong (Holding to the Center)

Master Zihua said: The sage values the Zhongdao (the Middle Way), and the gentleman holds fast to it. The principle of the Middle Way is very subtle. Six fingers are entrusted to the "middle," and the middle lies among them; at the two ends there are seven...

Master Zihua said: The sage values the Middle Way (zhōngdào), and the exemplary person holds fast to it. The principle of the Middle Way is exceedingly subtle. It runs through the above and the below, and the four directions, and it exists within all things. Although two extremes may be established, the Middle Way is not abandoned because of them, so one who keeps to the center does not reach an endpoint or fall into an extreme.

The petty person indulges their desires, likes to pursue the conditions of things to their utmost, and clings stubbornly to their own views, so the calamities they suffer are certain to be severe. Why is this so? Summer is hot and long, yet it cannot remain warm forever; afterward a contracting, austere energy must arise and form autumn. Winter is cold and gloomy, yet it cannot remain cold forever; afterward a generative, flourishing energy must arise and form spring. Who brings this about? It is Heaven. If Heaven itself does not allow things to be pushed to their end, how much less should people do so?

Therefore, one who truly follows the Middle Way, even if for a time leans to the left or the right and goes beyond the center, has still not left the bounds of the Middle Way. Even if for a time advances or falls back without reaching the center, still they remain within its domain. The petty person, however, likes to push matters to their extreme, and so strays far from the Middle Way. Once far from it, one is driven to the edge and shatters, strikes a high wall and falls stiff, or tumbles into a pit and perishes. It is like casting a stone into an abyss: it does not stop until it reaches the bottom. Alas, the Dao of Heaven detests extremes, yet foolish people do not understand this. The ancient exemplary persons fasted to cleanse their hearts and reverently guarded what they dared not lose. Could that be what is meant by the Middle Way?

The weight of heaven and earth cannot wear away the Middle Way; the meeting of yin and yang cannot change it; when the five colors are dazzlingly mixed and black and yellow appear interlaced before the eyes, the Middle Way is still not lost. Alas, the petty people of the world seek only fleeting pleasure and soon lose the Middle Way, until the state is in peril and they themselves perish, and still they do not awaken in time. Even when someone with compassion sincerely warns them through the Middle Way, they still do not awaken. These are called the lowest of fools, who cannot be transformed.

The weight of heaven and earth cannot wear away the Middle Way; the meeting of yin and yang cannot change it; when the five colors are dazzlingly mixed and black and yellow appear interlaced before the eyes, the Middle Way is still not lost. Alas, the petty people of the world seek only fleeting pleasure and soon lose the Middle Way, until the state is in peril and they themselves perish, and still they do not awaken in time. Even when someone with compassion sincerely warns them through the Middle Way, they still do not awaken. These are called the lowest of fools, who cannot be transformed.

Master Zi Hua said: The essential qi (jing qi) between Heaven and Earth generally follows the pattern of "three emerging, one entering" (san chu yi ru). The human body is no different: when one exhales, qi flows outward; when one inhales, qi flows inward. Thus "one" is called concentration (zhuan), "two" is called pairing (cheng shuang), and "three" is called transformation (bian hua). Concentration represents ability (cai), pairing represents function (zuo yong), and transformation represents the power of the marvelous (shen miao zhi li). The transformations of qi are always composed of "three," and for this reason "three" becomes a complete number. Fu Xi and Xuanyuan (legendary ancient sovereigns) mastered this pattern and used it to make their calculations, while Heshi and Dating (legendary sovereigns of remote antiquity) seemed to have lost something in this regard. The saying "emerging from one, standing upon two, completed in three" refers precisely to this principle. The Lianshan (an ancient book of changes) used it to present the forms of the myriad things, the Guicang (another ancient book of changes) used it to govern the transformations of qi, and the Dayi (the Yijing, or Book of Changes) used it to establish the numerical structure of the hexagrams.

Zi Huazi said: That which the Great Dao bears is wide and level in all four directions, so anyone with feet can walk upon it. Why is this? Because it is flat. The Great Dao is vast and profound, embracing all things; the distinctions of one, two, and three all accord with it, and I do not know why they naturally come to be called by the same name, "level." Why is this? Because the Great Dao is empty and unobstructed. Only emptiness can contain the Dao; only evenness can bear the Dao.

Having no obstruction and no deliberate contrivance is the state of emptiness carried to its utmost. Whether one leans to the left or to the right, one does not favor either side; one neither deliberately likes nor deliberately dislikes anything. Like a hanging scale, this is the state of evenness carried to its utmost.

How much can the human heart contain? If the heart is rugged and uneven, like the Taihang Mountains and the Yanmen Pass blocking the road, the gates of the mind will not let through even a ladle of water, so how could it contain the myriad things? Desire burns within like fire, and love and hatred congeal inside like ice. When ice and fire clash, both are necessarily harmed. Thus, leather stretched taut on all four sides will split, and a stomach stuffed full will obstruct the qi. Shallow breath causes the voice to fail, fear drives a person to madness, and accumulated sorrow injures the spirit, and the heart-qi becomes agitated as a result. Therefore it is said: when one is empty and even, the Dao naturally arises; when one is even and empty, the Dao naturally dwells at ease.

Zi Huazi said: Those who would be kings favor whatever makes them kings, and those who would perish also favor whatever leads them to perish. Thus, merely cooking a wild beast is not enough to satisfy one who craves its flesh; only by devouring dried meat does one come close to being satisfied. Those who rule as kings favor governance and righteousness; those who head toward ruin favor cruelty and arrogance. Their preferences differ, so the blessings and calamities they draw to themselves differ as well.

Zi Huazi said: Life and death stand opposite each other, and existence and non-existence are contrary. Storing up is the foundation of prosperity, and loss is the gradual process by which accomplishment comes about. The Great Dao has no shape, no quantity, no name, and no substance. Precisely because it has no substance, it cannot be called any particular existing thing.

Master Zihuazi said: "Life" is the counterpart of "death," and "existence" is the opposite of "non-existence." Fullness arises from greatness, while decline is a gradual process moving toward completion. The Great Dao (dao, the Way) has no form, no number, no name, and no substance. Because it has no substance, it transcends life and death. Because it has no name, it does not fall into existence or non-existence. Because it has no fixed number, it is not bound by the limits of fullness and decline, or of prosperity and decay. Because it has no form, there is no distinction between taking shape and being destroyed.

Once one enters the concrete world constituted by the four fundamental forms, beginning with Yin and Yang (yin-yang), a complete thing cannot avoid being damaged. Leather, though soft, will tear if pulled too far, and ore, though hard, will shatter once it is chiseled. Hardness and softness, lightness and heaviness, size and length all differ, yet all of them ultimately move toward exhaustion. Therefore, when the ancients created characters, their forms could be broken down into components, and the structure of writing follows the same principle.

Master Zihuazi said: The sun completes one circuit, which the calendar counts as 360 days, and the moon completes one circuit, which is likewise reckoned as 360. The great numbers of Heaven and Earth do not roughly exceed this range, and the things of the five directions correspond to it in number. Scaled creatures number 360 kinds, headed by the Azure Dragon of the Zhen palace (the east among the Eight Trigrams, bagua). Feathered creatures number 360 kinds, headed by the Vermilion Bird of the Li palace (the south). Furred creatures number 360 kinds, headed by the qilin of the Dui palace (the west). Shelled creatures number 360 kinds, headed by the Crouching Turtle of the Kan palace (the north). Naked creatures number 360 kinds, headed by humankind. The human body has 360 bones. Jing (essence) circulates day and night, breath is exhaled and inhaled, and thought and cognition in the mind, along with the movements of the hands and feet and the bending and extending of the joints, all correspond to the great numbers of Heaven and Earth and form a single whole. Thus it is said that among all that lies between Heaven and Earth, humankind is the most noble.

Master Zihuazi said: When the large stone chimes (jun shi zhi zhong) are struck and the six ancient ceremonial pieces are performed together in a courtyard, the purpose is originally to give expression to joy. Yet a person burdened with sorrow who hears them will grow even sadder, because his state of mind does not accord with the joyful music. When melancholy stirs, one sings as one walks. When the heart is anxious, one hastens to pluck the strings and play rapidly. What people value...

Master Zihua said: Striking a great bell in the courtyard and letting six kinds of instruments play together is meant to express joy. Yet a person burdened with sorrow, on hearing it, grows even sadder, because the music is not what his inner heart truly relies on. A person who walks along singing with a free mind, or plucks the strings in a rush, is originally expressing sorrow. Yet a person at ease and content, on hearing it, grows even happier, because sorrow is not what his inner heart truly relies on.

From this we can see that sorrow and joy come from outside, while it is the human heart that truly bears them. When the heart is stirred, the colors before the eyes seem to interlace red and green, and the directions of east and west seem to have swapped places. The confused person fails to notice this change. Thus it is said that one who gazes at flowing water feels himself moving along with the current. Such a person is perhaps one whose eyes are spinning and whose spirit is flowing away with them.

Master Zihua said: That which is undifferentiated and unseparated in primordial chaos is the root of the Dao (the Way). That which spreads over and covers all things and embraces the myriad beings is the vastness of Tian (Heaven). That which is bright, manifest, penetrating, and harmoniously merged is the function of Di (the Sovereign). The Dao has no leaning or attachment, Tian does not violate the course of nature, and Di makes no subjective choices. Then where should the heart be placed? The heart of the Dao is Tian; the heart of Tian is Di; the heart of Di is the human heart.

The human heart is most fully manifest in compassion and forgiveness. Seeing an infant crawling on the ground, pity arises in one's heart; this is compassion working within. To wade across a river oneself first, and then, upon reaching the shore, turn back to wait for those who follow, is the expression of forgiveness and consideration for others. So long as this heart is not lost, one can serve Di, respond to Tian, and enter the Dao. If this heart is lost, the Dao will depart, Tian will turn away, and Di will impose punishment.

The ancients, in forming characters, combined "zi xin" (this heart) into ci (compassion), and "ru xin" (like the heart) into shu (forgiveness). Without this heart, a person loses his human nature, and this is cause for sorrow. Therefore, one who guides the multitude by means of principle, how could he make light of compassion and forgiveness?

Zihuazi says: Whenever a thing has something it follows, this is the reason things succeed one another, and also the cause of why the principle is as it is.

The axle of a cart is called "axle" because the wheels turn by means of it; silk thread is called "zhou" because thoughts are linked through it. The origins of surnames and clans make the kinds of people distinct; the difference between the mandarin orange and the pomelo makes their flavors different; the "zhou" in "yuzhou" (the cosmos) shows that principles can be handed down from generation to generation. When seedlings flourish and grow, the grain is thereby able to ripen; when clouds gather and rise, rain is thereby brought down; when worry lies in the heart, the inner mind is stirred; when an army wheels left and right and advances or withdraws in coordinated movement, it is thereby able to bring its action to rest.

Therefore, whenever a thing has something it follows, this is the reason things succeed one another, and also the cause of why the principle is as it is.

Zihua Zi said: The Great Dao has a single source, one that is real, profound, and subtle, and it is called "Emptiness and Hollowness" (kongdong). Though it appears empty and void, from it arise the "Three Origins" (sanyuan), the three fundamental forces or sources of Heaven, Earth, and all things in Daoist cosmology. The functioning of the Three Origins all rests upon the mysterious Dao. To follow it, move in accordance with it, and hold fast to it is called the "Three Poles" (sanji), the three fundamental principles; to act upon it as one's standard is called the "Three Threads" (sanji), the three guiding disciplines; and to make it pass through above and below is called the "Three Powers" (sancai), Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. The myriad things are formed from the One, and all affairs arise from it; the One governs all things, and the myriad beings are thereby contained within it.

Therefore, "emptiness" (kong) means that nothing is not possessed, and "hollowness" (dong) means that nothing cannot be received. The source of the Great Dao is profound and real, and no thing fails to receive, accept, and be nourished by it. It is vast and boundless, yet so fine that it has no gaps; it gives to the myriad things without thereby diminishing, and responds to the myriad things without thereby being exhausted. Hence it is said: "When one attains to the One, all affairs can be understood." This is precisely the meaning of this principle.

Zihua Zi said: Look up, and the mysterious Dao is before your eyes; look down, and it is there as well. Whether one walks to the side or toward the four directions, it is everywhere. Gazing ahead, it seems to lie before you; hastening forward and departing in haste, when you turn away from it, it seems to be behind you. Thus the mysterious Dao is omnipresent. If a person can hold fast to it, it protects that person; if a person cannot hold fast to it, it departs from them.

Zihua Zi said: Fire lodges in the heart; its nature rises upward and repels downward, so the mind-spirit (xin shen) is stirred and loses its standard. When a person is violent and impatient, bringing calamity upon themselves, it is the heart that drives them to this. Wood lodges in jie (here referring to a state of contention or opposition), where it collides and harms others. If a person can hold fast to the mysterious Dao, it protects them; if they cannot hold fast to it, it departs from them.

Master Zihua said: When fire-qi (qi) lodges in the heart, its nature surges upward and recoils downward, so the mind-spirit (shen) is easily agitated and hard to settle. People bring calamity upon themselves through impatience and haste, because the heart governs them. When wood-qi lodges in the liver, it tends to clash and resist, and its sharp edge shows outwardly, so the mind-spirit becomes constrained, rigid, and out of measure. People bring calamity upon themselves through simplicity and recklessness, because the liver governs them. When metal-qi lodges in the lungs, it issues with a thunderous momentum and will not yield. Even when its force is spent, it refuses to gather itself, so the mind-spirit becomes scattered and lacks discipline. People bring calamity upon themselves through contentiousness and resolute action, because the lungs govern them. When water-qi lodges in the kidneys, it often retreats and inclines toward perilous places, so the mind-spirit lies hidden and does not show itself. People bring calamity upon themselves through fawning, clinging, and a lack of firm conviction, because the kidneys govern them. When earth-qi lodges in the spleen, it is heavy and not easily dispersed, yet it leaks downward and cannot stop. The mind-spirit therefore delights in grand undertakings but achieves nothing. People bring calamity upon themselves through sluggishness, clumsiness, and halting speech, because the spleen governs them.

Fire-qi delights in brightness, wood-qi in spreading out and reaching through, metal-qi in discernment, water-qi in storing and concealing, and earth-qi in generation and growth. Therefore, in nourishing the heart one should rely on filial piety (xiao), in nourishing the liver on righteousness (yi), in nourishing the kidneys on wisdom, and in nourishing the spleen on sincerity and freedom from deceit. When the qi of the Five Phases (wuxing) rests in the conditions it delights in, and the five virtues each exert their proper function, external evil qi cannot easily invade, and the inner essence (jing) does not dissipate. This is what is meant by being skilled at preserving body and mind.

Master Zihua said: How much people trust their eyes! How can the eyes be wholly trustworthy? Suppose a person of beautiful appearance, whom everyone naturally likes. If they are given an ugly mask, those who see them will drop them and flee. But if they are then dressed in light, soft, splendid garments, those who just fled will stop and turn back. People trust their eyes far too much. How can the eyes be wholly trustworthy?

Zhou She visited Zihuazi and said, "I have heard that when one's own cultivation is excellent but one still cannot make a name, there is no need to choose methods any longer. When a table is laid with every kind of delicacy yet one has no appetite, there is no need to be particular about fine dishes. When one holds a piece of jade yet can only beg in vain, there is no need to value treasures. I would like to ask what you mean by these words."

Zihuazi said, "So it is. A square vessel is measured by its capacity, and it cannot hold what it cannot contain. An ink line is stretched according to its measure, and it cannot reach what it cannot touch. When the music of a grand heavenly palace sounds, birds passing overhead do not stop. When tall beams are painted with splendid designs, apes keep their distance. Round things turn and square things stay still, each according to its own nature. Fire blazes upward and water flows downward, as their inherent tendencies make them do. To infer your true aspirations solely from the circumstances you find yourself in is bound to fail to match them.

If I must speak, I have a few words that I would like to offer you. Within the four quarters of heaven and earth lies a pure and fine vital breath, yet it cannot be transmitted directly. It rests upon the myriad things and reveals its sound through them. Its form spreads throughout the world without deliberate action. Consider the subtle aspects of the myriad things. Things that are bright and delicate tend to be easily damaged, while what is coarse and plain is firm and enduring. Painted jade breaks easily, while gold and iron are not easily melted down. The myriad things each have their strengths and weaknesses, and none can be perfect in every respect. This is simply how things are. One cannot make use of things by relying on a single aspect, nor establish oneself by a single skill. Only one who understands the Dao (the Way) may come close to being complete.

In your youth you cultivated yourself with rectitude and sincerity, and in your maturity you became unyielding and self-reliant. Now you are about to display your virtue and talent so as to serve as a model for the multitude. When you meet difficulty, you bravely take it on, yet in weighing matters you are somewhat narrow. You also press straight ahead, overriding what others are unwilling to accept, and in this way seek to establish yourself. This brings you no benefit and only draws empty fame. Such conduct cannot be explained by your fundamental aspirations. The human eye can see clearly a hundred paces away, yet cannot see one's own back, and what lies on the other side of a wall is even less visible. If I must speak, I still have a few more words that I would like to offer you."

Zihua Zi said: "At root, all things are profoundly alike. Then who is right and who is wrong? Who knows their original form, and who knows their final destination? I cannot fathom the reason why things are as they are, so I call it 'the One' (Yi). The One is the foundation of the existence of all things."

When the Dao (the Way) obtains the One, it is called the Supreme One (Taiyi), the source from which the myriad things have not yet differentiated. When Heaven obtains the One, it is called the Heavenly One (Tianyi), the root that governs the movement of Heaven and Earth. When the Sovereign obtains the One, it is called the Sovereign One (Diyi), the principle that a ruler follows in governing the world. The Sovereign One dwells at the center: strike it and no echo returns, and smell it and no scent can be detected. It is vast and all-encompassing, as if it could contain everything. It is still and serene, as if it had never left its source. It is boundless, as if it had no end.

The Heavenly One drives the processes of creation without ruling over the myriad things, and it brings them into being without claiming them as its own. The pivot from which the movements and transformations of all things arise also issues from it and returns to it. Likewise, it produces no echo and carries no scent. It is vast and all-encompassing, still and serene, and boundless, without limit.

The Supreme One is present everywhere. It can transform from one into two, and from two into three, and through three it generates the myriad things. Therefore it is said that the transformations of the One are vast and inexhaustible: they may appear as three, or unfold into nine. The myriad things differ in form, yet all are governed by the same principle. Whoever understands this principle can know anything, and whoever does not understand it can truly know nothing.

The categories of sound, color, scent, and flavor, when gathered together, do not exceed five kinds. All five kinds of sensory experience are founded on the root of the One, and once the One is established, the myriad things are born from it.

Zi Huazi said: Cold, dampness, warmth, dryness, darkness, and brightness undergo many changes. The body is worn down by these transformations and will eventually run dry, yet their forms of change seem inexhaustible. Joy, anger, sorrow, happiness, worry, and fear also vary greatly. The spirit endures these many changes and is gradually depleted, yet the physical form still retains a surplus.

The zhengqi (vital qi, the qi that sustains life and keeps the body functioning normally) flows through the body from top to bottom, circulating without beginning or end, and is impossible to measure. When zhengqi is abundant, the spirit remains vigorous and unconstrained, and the body stays steady and firm, not easily disturbed. Therefore, one who understands the art of nourishing qi must strive to keep the mind and spirit clear.

When zhengqi is insufficient, xieqi (pathogenic qi, the factors that harm the body) takes advantage of the void and invades. If xieqi continues to disturb the body, zhengqi will be frustrated; if zhengqi is persistently damaged, it will proceed toward decline. As zhengqi gradually wanes and xieqi grows ever stronger, the interior is injured and the complexion outwardly changes. When the spirit loses the body as its support, the person dies.

Thus, the ancients who understood the Dao (the Way) guarded against xieqi as one builds fortifications for defense, and nourished zhenqi (true qi) as one clears the source of a spring. They dwelt in stillness and did not allow external things to disturb them. In movement, in rest, and in breathing, they remained in accord with shenqi (spirit-qi). They carefully guarded the hun and po (the ethereal and corporeal souls), restrained the senses, and did not let the mind wander outward. By focusing single-mindedly, without division, they preserved their zhenqi.

When zhenqi flows freely from top to bottom, the qi mechanism becomes smooth, like running water that never stops, like the sun and moon that never cease in their courses. Yin qi nourishes the interior organs, and Yang qi guards and secures the exterior vessels. The source of zhenqi is abundant without overflowing, and its circulation is unobstructed without congestion. This is called preserving life over the long term.

Zihuazi said: Human nature is like water. The source of water is originally very clean, without decay or turbidity, but when water is long steeped in external things, change is inevitable. Once it has changed and cannot return to its origin, people come to doubt whether the change is its own nature. Thus water takes a square shape in a square vessel and a round shape in a round one, changing form according to what contains it. Steeped in different things, it shows hues of blue, yellow, red, or white. When it meets an obstruction, it roars, murmurs, or splashes. Shaped by the environment that holds it, it swirls, stagnates, or flows. Steeped in different substances, it tastes salty, bland, fragrant, or strong. None of these five kinds of change is the nature of water itself, yet the very fact that water can display them lies in the characteristics its nature possesses. For this reason, the ancient gentleman was careful about the things that steep and influence the self.

Zihuazi said: In the reckoning of heaven and earth, nothing unifies the myriad things more than "five," and nothing occupies the center more than "five." Five dwells at the center and governs the myriad things. It is the foundation of the fullness of the stomach and the key to preserving the Qi (vital energy) of harmonious balance. Things give rise to their nature from the center, and the principle lies here. For this reason, the ancient gentleman was careful about the things that steep and influence the self.

Zihuazi further said: In the reckoning of heaven and earth, nothing unifies the myriad things more than "five," and nothing occupies the center more than "five." Five dwells at the center and governs the myriad things. It is the foundation of the fullness of the stomach and the key to preserving the Qi of harmonious balance. The center is where things arise and cease, the foundation on which tortoise-shell divination and milfoil divination become efficacious, and the foundation on which spiritual resonance (shenmiao ganying) is filled and made to penetrate. Understanding this principle, all affairs will be orderly and unobstructed.

According to the directions of the Nine Palaces (Jiugong) number, two and four embrace nine and dwell above, while six and eight tread upon one and dwell below. Nine is above and one is below, three is to the left and seven to the right, and five occupies the center. Five dwells in the central palace, the place from which the numbers arise, and their crisscrossing arrangement allows the numbers to take form. Thus it is said that in the reckoning of heaven and earth, nothing unifies the myriad things more than "five," and nothing occupies the center more than "five." Understanding this principle, all affairs will be orderly and unobstructed.

End of Volume Eight of the Zihuazi.

Collation note: In the main text, the character bao was written as mu in the Daozang edition. Following the sense of the passage and the Siku Quanshu edition, it has been restored to bao. The character jie appears as zha in the Siku Quanshu edition. The character guan was written as ming, and shen was written as xing. The phrase bu wu bai was written as wu bu bai. The character wei (meaning "stomach") was changed to wei (meaning "to say").

Zihuazi, Volume Nine, composed by Cheng Ben of the Jin dynasty. Chapter title: Beiguan Yiwen.

"Beigong Yi asked: 'In high antiquity, Heaven was not stingy with its treasures. The sun and moon were bright and shone everywhere, the five planets followed their courses without losing their order, phoenixes came, divine tortoises appeared as auspicious signs, sweet dew fell, bamboo bore fruit, yellow essence welled up from the earth, and vermilion grasses grew. May I ask what the ancients cultivated and governed to bring about such a state of affairs?'

Master Zihua said: 'This is not what I have heard. Things that symbolize good fortune and confirm auspicious omens merely fill out the tally of portents when they appear, and when they are absent, they do no harm to the governance of the state. The sage ruler does not set his mind on such matters, and the gentleman does not speak of them, because a peaceful age does not rely on them as its proof.

The people of high antiquity dwelled at ease and kept their minds empty and still. In governing many affairs, they could master the complex with simplicity. What they shared with ordinary people was an understanding of what to take and what to leave; what set them apart was a divine-like insight and wisdom. The operation of this wisdom was extremely subtle, yet its effects were direct and clear. It shifted along with transformations and advanced alongside the changes of the myriad things. Yin and Yang could not alter it, and the four seasons could not diminish it. It penetrated into the finest details and reached the realm of the elusive and unfathomable. Drawing upon it did not exhaust it, and pouring into it did not fill it.

In their view, phoenixes and qilin were no more than livestock kept in an enclosure; sweet springs and sweet dew were no more than water flowing in ditches; lingzhi fungus, bamboo fruit, and all manner of strange plants were merely things cultivated in gardens; and jade, rare objects, and various kinds of creatures were merely things stored in boxes and chests. Thus it is said that the sage ruler does not treat auspicious omens as important, the gentleman does not speak of them, and a peaceful age does not depend on them to prove itself.

In former times, Yu Shun played the five-stringed zither and sang the ode "Southern Wind," and his virtue spread to the four quarters and rose up to Heaven and Earth. When the Duke of Zhou assisted King Cheng, he did not indulge in the enjoyment of the fine foods set before him, and the bells and drums hung in place never ceased to sound. They sang the odes "Yong" and "Shao," and the people of the Six Services, the lands and peoples directly under the king's command, all received his teachings of virtue. The various auspicious signs, when they appeared, merely filled out the tally; when they were absent, governance was not hindered.

After the sage kings passed away, the world fell into great disorder. Fathers and sons lost their natural bonds, and rulers and ministers lost their bonds of order. Nothing could be more severe than what prevails today. Yet the sun, moon, and stars still stretched across the sky, no different from the times of peace. Thus it is said that the Way of Heaven is far from human affairs, while human affairs lie close at hand. To rely on milfoil stalks and tortoise shells for divination and to act according to the omens is only a trivial means of seeking good fortune. To look up in prayer and beseech Heaven only after one has stumbled is to rely on something very limited. Therefore the sage ruler does not treat these things as important, the gentleman does not speak of them, and a peaceful age has no reason to govern by means of them.

I fear that the rulers of later generations will open their eyes wide and single-mindedly chase after such things, while their ministers will use deceit and fantastic, bizarre tricks to win the ruler's favor. They will set aside the affairs they ought to govern and instead demand that Heaven accomplish their achievements. When unusual weather or omens that defy reason happen by chance, and something suddenly appears whose color and shape differ from ordinary things and exceed what the eyes and ears have known, they will revere it as an auspicious sign. The ruler and ministers will rejoice because of it, and scholars and common people will alter what they hear and believe. Some will even compose hymns and offer them at the suburban and ancestral temple sacrifices. Others will paint and adorn images to display to the subjects, as if they believed that no one in later ages could ever surpass them.

If they would look back at high antiquity, they would understand that what the ancients called livestock in enclosures, water in ditches, plants cultivated in gardens, and treasures stored in chests were, in the eyes of the ancients, as clear and plain as the sun, moon, and stars. Yet people today regard these things as rare and precious, things that not even a peaceful age could obtain by chance. This is truly a failure to understand the bearing that a sovereign ought to have.'"

Zihuazi was living at Ling, and Beigong Yi and Gongzhong Cheng were attending him. In the course of their conversation, the talk turned to medicine. Zihuazi said: "Medicine (yi) is regulation, and regulation depends on attentive judgment. Pharmacy (yao) is nourishment, and nourishment means tending to the body.

Latent disorders within the viscera, the stagnation of blood and qi (qi) in their circulation, the blockage of the body's orifices, and the obstruction at the joints and diaphragm all require one to perceive changes that have not yet appeared and changes that are about to arise. One who can discern these signs and carefully regulate according to principle is said to practice medicine.

To use what is in surplus in the body to nourish what is deficient, and to use what still has strength to restore what is damaged, is the proper way. If one goes against what the body needs in its care, what would have been beneficial will instead harm it further, and what was sufficient will become more depleted. To see these two opposing situations clearly, and then to guide and nourish appropriately, is called the use of medicine. Therefore it is said: medicine is regulation, and regulation depends on attentive judgment; pharmacy is nourishment, and nourishment is tending."

Beigong Yi said: "Indeed, this is just what ordinary physicians find difficult to do. Yet I have heard that to rely on mental judgment in all matters is inferior to reaching a state without fixed intention, and to rely on care in all matters is inferior to reaching a state without dependence. I would like to ask: the upward and downward movement of human spirit, its connection with day and night and its interpenetration with heaven and earth, how many kinds of it are there in total?"

Zihuazi said: "Beigong Yi, this is a very good question. By reasoning from it, one can go further and discuss these matters with those who understand the Dao (dao). I will set down what I have learned and select its essential points.

Heaven endowed all things with a single qi, and the qi of the Five Phases (wuxing) followed from it, contained within Yin-Yang (yinyang). When the Yin and Yang qi combined, they formed concrete bodies. Therefore there are four states of Yin and Yang: Greater Yang, Lesser Yang, Greater Yin, and Lesser Yin. Yin contains Yang, and Yang also contains Yin. The Yang within Yang belongs to Fire, and the Yin within Yin belongs to Water. The Yin within Yang belongs to Wood, and the Yang within Yin belongs to Metal. Earth stands between these two kinds of qi and harmonizes the four directions: when it is within Yin, it follows Yin, and when it is within Yang, it follows Yang. Therefore all things cannot take form without Earth, and humans cannot grow without it either.

When Yin qi in the north reaches its extreme, cold arises, and cold gives birth to Water. When Yang qi in the south reaches its extreme, heat arises, and heat gives birth to Fire. When Yang qi in the east stirs and disperses, wind arises, and wind gives birth to Wood. When Yin qi in the west gathers and becomes still, dryness arises, and dryness gives birth to Metal. When Yin and Yang meet at the center, dampness arises, and dampness gives birth to Earth. Therefore, between heaven and earth and within the six directions, nothing is separate from the Five Phases.

Humans are no different. When blood and qi are harmonious, and the nutritive qi (ying) and defensive qi (wei) circulate freely, the five viscera take shape, shen-qi (shenqi) settles in the heart, and the hun and po and the other faculties of spirit are all present. Only then is a person complete. Therefore each of the five viscera and six bowels has its own governing spirit. Jing (jing) is received from Metal and Fire, while qi harmonizes with Water and Wood. When jing and qi unite, they produce ten mental activities: jing, shen, hun, po, xin (heart-mind), yi (intention), zhi (will), si (thought), zhi (wisdom), and lü (concern).

The root of life is called jing. The union of two refined qi is called shen. That which moves with the coming and going of shen-qi is called hun. That which accompanies the entering and exiting of jing-qi is called po. That by which things are recognized is called xin. What the heart retains is called yi. When intention is focused, it is called zhi. When aspiration proceeds toward something, it is called si. When thinking dwells on and cherishes something, it is called lü……"