About this page. The original text of 《亢仓子》 (Zangwai Daoshu 藏外道書, 1 volume) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Godners/DaoZang edition. An English interpretation of the 12 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
Reading modes explained
- Horizontal: ordinary left-to-right reading; the interpretation can be shown.
- Scroll: vertical text running right to left; the wheel scrolls sideways (no interpretation in this mode).
- Wheel: columns of vertical text turn around a drum; use the wheel, drag or arrow keys, or auto-play.
- Pages: about 200 characters per page; use the buttons, swipe or arrow keys.
Source textInterpretation
Vol. 1
The old edition of the Kangcangzi attributes the work to Gengsang Chu. It consists of one volume and is classified among Daoist writings.
We have carefully examined the evidence as follows. In the Tang dynasty, Liu Zongyuan questioned the work’s authorship. Both Chao Gongwu’s Records of Reading and Gao Sisun’s Synopsis of the Masters say that during the Kaiyuan and Tianbao eras of Emperor Xuanzong’s reign, people revered Master Gengsang and called his writings the Perfect Scripture of the Cavernous Mystery, but could not find the original text. Later, Wang Shiyuan, a retired scholar from Xiangyang, gathered and arranged writings and ideas from the various masters, compiled this book, and presented it to the court.
In his Notes from the Brush, Zhou cited passages from the book about “selecting officials through literary composition in times of crisis” and “people throughout a township, county, and province all wearing blue and purple official robes.” He argued that these remarks alluded to Tang institutions. In his Debate on the Masters, Song Lian also pointed out that the book uses “people” in place of “the people” and “generation” in place of “age” to avoid the taboo characters in the name of Emperor Taizong, Li Shimin. He therefore concluded that the author was a Tang writer.
The preface to the Collected Works of Meng Haoran was written by Wang Shiyuan of Xuancheng. There he says that he revised the nine chapters of the Kangcangzi. In addition, Wei Tao’s preface, written in the ninth year of the Tianbao era, says that Wang Shiyuan of Xuancheng had exceptional talent and a profound understanding of literature and its principles. He often traveled among mountains and rivers, took no interest in worldly affairs, and had once written several chapters of the Kangcangzi, which were passed down to later generations. This shows that the book was indeed supplemented and compiled by Wang Shiyuan, and was not forged by later writers; there are clear records of it from that time. The many conflicting claims made in later generations probably arose because these sources were not consulted.
Gengsang Chu, however, appears only in the Zhuangzi, where he is said to have lived on Mount Weilei. The Biographies of Laozi and Zhuangzi in the Records of the Grand Historian says that among the works written by Zhuang Zhou were pieces called “Weilei” and “Kangcangzi,” all empty talk without factual basis. Whether Gengsang Chu really existed is uncertain; he may have been like Hongmeng or Yunjiang, figures whose historical reality is difficult to establish.
Neither the Treatise on Literature in the Book of Han nor the Bibliographic Treatise in the Book of Sui lists this work. How, then, did compilers in the Tang find material about it? Perhaps Wang Shiyuan already possessed the book, and later Daoist practitioners such as Ye Fashan and Luo Gongyuan, who had access to the palace, circulated it from one person to another and built up interest in it in advance, prompting the court to issue an order seeking it. In his own preface, Wang Shiyuan says that he was summoned to the capital for an audience in the fourth year of the Tianbao era. Since this was just after the book had been completed, the date lends support to this account.
Wang Shiyuan was a literary scholar. Although the book draws passages from the Laozi, the Zhuangzi, the Liezi, the Wenzi, the Book of Lord Shang, the Spring and Autumn Annals of Master Lü, and Liu Xiang’s Garden of Persuasions and Newly Arranged Accounts, its material is organized and connected with considerable coherence and substance. It is unlike other forgeries, which tend to be crude. The book makes extensive use of archaic writing and unusual characters, in a style resembling Wei Yuansong’s Yuanbao. Chao Gongwu observed that works lacking substance often use outward form to embellish themselves; this remark aptly identifies one of the book’s shortcomings. The literary habit of seeking the strange and unusual may be recorded here, but need not be discussed further.
The Comprehensive Catalogue of the Chongwen Era lists the work as nine chapters. Ma Duanlin’s Comprehensive Study of Documents: Bibliographic Treatise records it as two volumes, while Song Lian’s Debate on the Masters says it has five. The surviving edition consists of only one volume, but has the same number of chapters as the Comprehensive Catalogue of the Chongwen Era. It may therefore still preserve the form of the old edition.
The Commentary on the Kangcangzi consists of nine chapters. Earlier editions attribute the commentary to He Can. According to the Jingji Kao, the work had two volumes, while the Zhuzibian says it had five. The edition before us has only one volume, but its number of chapters matches the record in the Chongwen Zongmu. It therefore seems possible that it preserves the form of an earlier edition.
We have carefully examined the evidence. Earlier editions attribute the commentary on the Kangcangzi to He Can, but do not state when he lived. When Liu Zongyuan read the Kangcangzi, he observed that the book appeared in neither Liu Xiang’s nor Ban Gu’s bibliographies. It was only by Liu Zongyuan’s time that someone had commented on the work and passed it on to readers. Thus, a commentary on the Kangcangzi existed by Liu Zongyuan’s time at the latest, although he did not record the commentator’s name. Chao Gongwu’s Dushu Zhi lists a two-volume Kangcangzi with a commentary by He Can. Chao Gongwu lived from the late Northern Song to the early Southern Song, so He Can must have lived before the Northern Song. The “Can” in He Can’s name is written with the jade radical, unlike the form used in this book; this may be a variant introduced during copying.
The commentary is concise and plain in style, unlike writing from after the Song dynasty, and may well be the same commentary Liu Zongyuan had seen. It also contains phonetic and lexical notes—readings and explanations for difficult characters—added by Huang Jian during the Ming dynasty. Huang Jian’s postscript appears at the end of the volume. He was fond of recasting ancient characters, and most of his Conggu Zhengwen is obscure and eccentric, making it difficult to use in practice. The Kangcangzi uses many unusual character forms, which suited Huang Jian’s interests, so he added phonetic and lexical notes to the work. But these notes have been mixed with the original commentary and can no longer be distinguished. This is an example of the harm caused when people in the Ming dynasty took it upon themselves to alter and muddle ancient books.
The Kangcangzi is traditionally said to have been supplemented and revised by Wang Shiyuan. In his Zilüe, however, Gao Sisun mistakenly claimed that it was written by Wang Bao—a serious error. Huang Jian’s postscript also names Wang Bao as the author, without investigating or correcting the claim. Huang Jian devoted his life to recasting ancient characters in seal script, seeking novelty and fame through this pursuit. It is therefore no surprise that he made little effort to investigate other matters.
Respectfully collated and submitted in the tenth month of the forty-sixth year of the Qianlong reign.
Chief compilers: Ji Yun, Lu Xixiong, Sun Shiyi
Chief proofreader: Lu Feichi
Kangcangzi
Chapter One: “The Way in Its Entirety”
For three years, Kangcangzi lived at the foot of Mount Yu. The people there suffered no calamities or illness, and the crops yielded abundant harvests year after year. The people privately discussed among themselves: “When he first arrived, we thought he was extraordinary. Now, day by day, we see little change, yet over time we have benefited greatly. Could he be a sage? Why don’t we all honor him as a deity and make offerings to him, just as we do to the gods of the soil and grain?”
When Kangcangzi heard this, his expression turned displeased. His disciple Yanchuo followed him and asked why. Kangcangzi said, “I heard Lao Dan say that a Perfected Person—someone whose cultivation has reached a high level—lives in a humble hut, while the people act freely as they please, unaware of why they are as they are or where they are headed. Now the people of Mount Yu are privately discussing, fathers and sons together, making me an object of worship. I cannot put this out of my mind. Could I really be the kind of extraordinary person they say I am?”
Yanchuo replied, “Not necessarily. A small, ordinary pool cannot hold a great fish; the fish can barely turn around in it, while little fish such as salamanders and loaches move about freely. A hill just a few dozen feet high cannot shelter a giant beast, but a little fox makes it a home. Honoring the worthy, employing the capable, and seeking benefit by pursuing goodness have been practiced since the time of Yao and Shun. How much more so among the people of Mount Yu! You might simply go along with things as they are and accept their respect.”
Kangcangzi said, “Alas, do you understand? A giant beast large enough to hold a cart in its mouth, once it leaves the forest with its horns and armor, will be caught in a net. A great fish capable of swallowing a boat, once it leaves the water, will be troubled by ants. That is why birds and beasts choose to live high up, and fish and turtles choose the deep water. Those who wish to preserve their lives must hide themselves, and the deeper they hide, the better. Let me tell you: the roots of the great disorder in the world may have been planted as far back as the age of Yao and Shun. This disorder will ultimately continue for a thousand generations. In the future, people will surely devour one another.”
Before he had finished speaking, Nanzi Rongzhi sat forward on his knees with a respectful expression and said, “As I grow older, what should I rely on and what should I do from now on, in order to put your words into practice?”
Kangcangzi replied, “Preserve your body and guard your life. Do not let your thoughts become troubled as they are now. If you live this way, perhaps you will live to see that day. But my abilities are limited; I cannot bring you to full understanding. Why not go south and pay a visit to my teacher, Lao Dan?” Having said this, he politely declined Rongzhi.
Kangcangzi did not wish to leave the people of Mount Yu, nor did he wish to make himself known and become the focus of the world’s attention. He said, “Water is clear by nature, but stir up the mud and it turns cloudy. Human nature can naturally enjoy a long life, but when external things disturb it, people cannot live out their allotted years. External things are meant to nourish human nature, yet people in the world today, confused as they are, use their nature to serve external things, not understanding which is more important. Thus, the sage accepts sounds, sights, and foods only when they benefit human nature, and discards them when they harm it. This is the way to preserve one’s nature.
“When ten thousand people draw their bows and all shoot at one target, it cannot fail to be struck. When the myriad things are so varied, if they are all used to harm one life, that life cannot escape injury. Therefore, the sage arranges and employs the myriad things in order to preserve human nature. When nature is preserved, the spirit is whole. One whose spirit is whole can understand without thinking and respond aptly without planning. Their spirit is clear and illuminates everything; their mind is settled, as if it contained Heaven and Earth. Such a person, as an emperor, is not arrogant; as an ordinary person, is not distressed. This is what it means to preserve the Great Dao.
“To keep the mind balanced and undisturbed by external things is called clarity and stillness. Sustained clarity and stillness bring understanding; sustained understanding brings emptiness and calm. In emptiness and calm, the Great Dao dwells fully in the heart.”
When Qin Yi died, Kangcangzi wept for him. An attendant asked, “Everyone in the world dies. Why do you weep, Master?” Kangcangzi said, “Everyone in the world is weeping. How could I not weep?” The attendant asked again, “Those who weep must be grieving, but you are not grieving. Why do you weep?” Kangcangzi replied, “In all this vast world, I have no one with whom I can share joy. Where, then, would I find grief?”
He also said, “Earth changes into water, water into Qi, Qi into emptiness, and emptiness into the Dao. Emptiness is the Dao’s substance; stillness is where the Dao resides. Principle is the Dao’s framework, and understanding is its detail. The Dao nourishes the spirit, De (Virtue/Power) expands one’s capacity, ritual rectifies one’s bearing, and things nourish the body.
“Those who love white things regard black as dirty; those who love black things, in turn, regard white as dirty. How can I know how the world decides what is clean and what is dirty? So I no longer cling to the cleanliness or dirtiness of external things. Someone with blurred vision sees yellow as red and blue-green as black. How do I know that what I now regard as black and white might not appear red and yellow to someone else? How can I know that the colors the world agrees upon are the true colors? So I do not cling to the colors of external things.
“Those who are greedy for wealth see nothing else worth loving. Those who adore fine horses see nothing else worth loving. Those who adore books see nothing else worth loving. How can I know what the world truly deserves to be loved or hated? So I no longer decide that any particular external thing is worth attachment. As long as nothing disturbs my true nature, I can preserve myself.”
Lord Huai of Chen sent the grandee Liu to Lu to present formal greetings and convey his regards. In private, the Lu nobleman Shusun Qing asked him, “Your state has a sage. Do you know of him?” Liu said, “What lets you know for certain that he is a sage?” Shusun Qing said, “He can cast aside the mind and act only through the body.” Liu replied, “Though our state of Chen is small, we too have a sage, and his abilities differ from what you have heard.” Shusun Qing asked, “Who is this sage?” Liu said, “There is a man called Kangcangzi who has partly grasped the Dao of Lao Dan. He can see with his ears and hear with his eyes.”
When Duke Ding of Lu heard this, he found it extraordinary. He sent a member of the Shusun clan back to Chen to invite Kangcangzi to Lu, where he would be received with the honors due to a high minister. When Kangcangzi arrived, he was lodged in a guest house beside the inner apartments. The Duke approached him respectfully and sought his instruction.
Kangcangzi said, “I can see and hear without using my ears and eyes. To say that I can change the ordinary functions of my ears and eyes is an exaggeration by those who passed the story along.”
The Duke said, “Such a thing is truly astonishing. What is your art of the Dao? I very much wish to hear about it.”
Kangcangzi said, “My body is in harmony with my mind, my mind with my Qi, my Qi with my spirit, and my spirit with emptiness. Whether it is something extremely subtle or a faint sound, whether it comes from beyond the world’s farthest boundaries or is right before my eyes, once it reaches me, I know it completely. But I do not know whether I perceive it through the senses of my seven orifices and limbs, or understand it through my six viscera, five organs, and thoughts. It simply knows of its own accord.”
Heaven is not to be trusted lightly, the earth is not to be trusted lightly, other people are not to be trusted lightly, and even one’s own thoughts are not to be trusted lightly. Only the Dao (the fundamental principle governing the workings of all things) is worthy of reliance. Do wise rulers and outstanding people understand this principle?
In ancient times, Jie of the Xia dynasty trusted that Heaven would hand the realm to him, and so he stopped diligently cultivating the Dao. Later, Heaven took his kingdom away and gave it to Zhou of the Yin dynasty. Zhou, too, trusted that Heaven would hand the realm to him, and likewise failed to follow the Dao. Heaven then took his kingdom away and gave it to the Zhou dynasty.
A lazy farmer trusts that the earth will naturally produce every kind of grain, yet refuses to work according to the principles of cultivation. The earth then seems to take back his harvest, leaving his fields barren. The ruler of Qi trusted that human nature was inherently yielding, yet did not understand the Dao of governing. He handed his whole state over to others, who, like owls, greedily seized what was not theirs and took his territory.
When people do not cultivate the Dao, they let their own thoughts rule them and indulge their desires, allowing them to grow without limit. Calamities and illness follow; they incur resentment, harm their bodies, and shorten their lives. Thoughts themselves can become a source of harm. That is why only the Dao is worthy of reliance.
If Heaven and Earth do not follow the Dao, they cannot endure. If the people have no worthy person to govern them, they cannot live in peace and harmony. If capable people do not handle public affairs, those affairs cannot be managed harmoniously and properly. Those who act in accordance with the Dao do not boast of their own effectiveness. Their blessings nourish all things, while their achievements belong to what is unseen and unnamed.
Understanding how things work and being able to distinguish among them is called “knowledge.” Understanding without clinging to distinctions is called the “Dao.” Knowledge is used to govern people; the Dao is used to bring them peace.
Rising at the crow of the cock, laboring under the sun, sweating into the earth, and managing only a little rest at night: this is the farmer’s way of life. Bending down to pick things up, looking up to seek them out, calculating intently and striving by every means, with profit as the sole concern: this is the merchant’s way of pursuing gain. Regulating the breath and nurturing Qi, concentrating the spirit and keeping still, reducing thought, remaining detached and at ease, and diligently cultivating in the hope of becoming an immortal: this is the cultivation of the accomplished adept. Focusing one’s resolve, setting one’s thoughts aright, devoting oneself to one’s duties, weighing the gains and losses of affairs, forgoing sleep, seeking results, and managing the people: this is the way of a minister fulfilling his duties. Purifying one’s thoughts, reducing distractions, observing those close at hand, and seeking out the worthy so that the people may live in peace: this is the ruler’s way of governing.
When people follow these paths according to their respective aims, observe proper measure, and neither neglect nor obstruct their work and conduct, the world is said to have the Dao. Guiding the sinews and bones can keep the body sound; restraining desires can preserve the spirit; speaking with care can safeguard blessings. One who can maintain these three is worthy of being called clear-minded and virtuous.
When the Dao and De (Virtue/Power) flow freely, even spirits and ghosts lend their aid. When trust and righteousness are sincere, noble people draw near. When rites and moral principles are complete, even petty people show respect. The discerning hold fast to their own principles, while the undiscerning hold fast to their own opinions. Those who follow the Dao are still and silent; even the dull-witted may also be still and silent. Things sometimes seem right but are in fact wrong, or seem wrong but are in fact right. One may suffer first and rejoice later, or begin in good fortune and end in misfortune.
Some people may be easy to draw near to, yet their abilities do not merit respect. Others have abilities worthy of respect, yet their character makes them unsuitable companions. Too much respect can make closeness difficult; too much closeness can cause respect to fade. Those who are close may sometimes grow distant, while those who are distant may sometimes grow close. Excessive kindness can easily give rise to resentment, and too much love may turn into hatred. Sometimes speed is best; sometimes patience is more fitting. Sometimes directness is valued; sometimes tact is valued. The crucial differences in how matters should be handled are often exceedingly subtle, and must be examined carefully.
For this reason, the wise recognize that these principles are not easy to grasp. In quiet and stillness, the spirit can readily become clear; in hardship, the mind may sometimes become clearer still. When people hold high office, their words are more readily heard; when they are prosperous, their actions are easier to carry out. Such is the influence of circumstances.
People with the same interests love one another; people with the same skills envy one another. Those who give together love one another; those who compete to take envy one another. Those who share hardship draw close to one another; the strong and vigorous contend with one another. These are natural expressions of human feelings.
A person with great ability who remains modest and courteous, who is poor and lowly yet does not flatter, who works hard without feeling ashamed, and who remains respectful and diligent even in wealth and high status may be called a person of De.
The essential principles of governing a state are these: human intelligence cannot directly perceive the workings of Heaven, so people can understand the Way of Heaven only by observing the four seasons, the changes of cold and heat, and the movements of the sun, moon, and stars. When the seasons proceed in due order, all things and living beings can find their proper place and live and grow in peace. Ministers, too, cannot directly fathom their ruler; they can judge his intentions only from the rewards and punishments he imposes and the ranks and stipends he grants. When a ruler’s rewards and punishments are appropriate, those near and far, those favored and disfavored, and the capable and incapable can each contribute their strengths and serve the state.
When trust is complete, the realm is at peace; when trust is lost, the realm is in danger. When the people are worn down by hardship and their resources exhausted, they begin to compete and harm one another, and trust between people disappears. The people’s distrust of one another has its source in unfair government orders; unfair orders are the fault of officials. When officials commit offenses but punishments and rewards are applied inconsistently, the root cause is that the ruler has failed to govern with diligence and clear judgment. If the ruler governs diligently and clearly, punishments and rewards will be consistent. If they are consistent, officials will carry out the laws. When the laws are enforced, government orders can reach the people, everyone can find their proper place, and people can trust one another again. Thus, the root cause of lost trust throughout the realm is a ruler’s failure to govern diligently and clearly.
Kang Cangzi lived at Xirang for five years. King Ling of Chu sent the official Ji Gong with gifts and a message: “I am young and lacking in virtue, yet unworthily occupy the throne. Now the seasons of flood and drought have become irregular. As ruler, what should I do to dispel these calamities?” Kang Cangzi replied, “Floods result from an imbalance of Yin Qi. In government, Yin imbalance resembles the misuse of punishments; in human affairs, it resembles favoritism. Drought results from an excess of Yang Qi. In government, Yang excess resembles placing too much emphasis on the reputation for virtue; in human affairs, it resembles arrogance and self-satisfaction. Chu is on the verge of suffering both floods and drought. The ruler should put punishments in order and improve the administration of virtue, while officials should rid themselves of favoritism and guard against arrogance. Then the disasters will gradually recede, and blessings of every kind will arrive one after another.”
Zheng possessed a jade tablet from the Hu region and a bow of the Rong, treasures passed down from its ancestors. Later, Chu demanded that Zheng hand them over, threatening to send troops if it refused. The ruler of Zheng was deeply worried. He rode to visit Kang Cangzi and said, “These jade and bow were obtained by my predecessor from the Hu region and handed down through the generations. Chu relies on its strength and insists on taking them, threatening war if we refuse. I am thinking of sending other jade and bows in their place. What do you think?” Kang Cangzi said, “Set your mind at ease for now. Chu has treasures of its own that could make amends, though Chu itself may not realize it. You must send the genuine jade and bow. Chu is using its power to impose punishment over a minor matter, taking what it wants by force and disregarding what is right. It is depleting and encroaching upon a neighboring state. It will soon lose the support of the feudal lords. When they hear of this, they will become alert, urge one another on, prepare their strength, and strive to uphold clear judgment and fairness while defending what is right together. Zheng may even become their leader. Wait and see; this may yet prove a blessing.”
Zheng therefore set out for Ying, the capital of Chu, carrying the Hu jade and the Rong bow. Before the party arrived, the people of Chu heard that Zheng was following a sage’s counsel and said, “They are acting according to the sage’s words. How could we seize their belongings, letting the world see us bully them with our power and making the feudal lords wary of us?” Chu immediately returned the gifts and added further offerings.
People by nature wish to live and abhor death, wish for security and abhor danger, and wish for honor and abhor disgrace. When people throughout the realm get what they wish for, they are happy; happiness brings peace. When they cannot get what they wish for, they suffer; suffering brings danger. If a ruler indulges his own desires, officials and local administrators will indulge theirs as well. The people, rich and poor alike, will then be driven to their limits: the poor will exhaust their strength, the rich will spend all their wealth, and every occupation and social station will be thrown into disorder. No one will be able to obtain what they seek. The people will help one another flee and hide, wander from place to place, and search for food to stay alive, while officials hunt them down. Enduring danger and suffering, they may gather in rebellion, and the state will retain only the name of a state.
Do not covet high population figures, large numbers of people, or mighty armies, and do not wear down the people in order to enlarge the cities. If taxes are collected without regard for the people’s circumstances, the poor will grow poorer day by day; those already short of necessities will have even less, prohibitions will be difficult to enforce, and the state will decline. When officials are unfit for their posts, they will be either too lenient or too harsh. If the authorities compete with the people for profit, the people will become crafty. When the people grow deceitful and hard to understand, the ruler becomes suspicious; when the ruler is suspicious, his subjects become even more confused. As the people grow confused, their leaders become exhausted trying to manage them. When the leaders are exhausted, rewards can no longer encourage people effectively, and punishments can no longer prevent wrongdoing. People’s hearts then become unsettled and difficult to calm. This happens because the officials appointed to office are unsuitable.
The most important task of government is to examine and select people with care. Someone whose ability and virtue are sufficient to govern a village should be appointed to govern a village; someone fit to govern a county should be appointed to govern a county; someone fit to govern a province should be appointed to govern a province; only someone fit to govern a state should be entrusted with the affairs of the state. In this way, capable people will not be overlooked. If someone commits wrongdoing in a village and does not change after instruction, deal with the matter according to the village’s rules. If someone commits wrongdoing in a county and does not change after correction, continue to deal with the matter according to the law. If someone threatens order throughout the state, punish him severely under the law. Then people throughout the realm will respect the law and dare not give rise to thoughts of disobedience, deceit, or neglect. This is called bringing peace to the people.
In governing the realm, nothing matters more than finding capable people. The best way to select them is to make government affairs run smoothly; the key to smooth government is to bring peace to the people. When judging people’s character, written compositions identify only one in twenty as suitable; speeches identify perhaps one or two in ten. But if one considers their bearing, their conduct in handling affairs, and their attitude, eight or nine in ten prove suitable. Such people require an enlightened ruler to recognize and appoint them through discerning judgment.
In an age of decline and disorder, if people are selected only by their writings, increasingly many works will be clever and ornate, while plain and upright writing will be overlooked. If people are selected only by their words, empty, polished talk will multiply, while those who speak plainly and dare to remonstrate will be obscured. If only outward bearing and manner of conducting affairs are considered, people who appear upright but are corrupt within will be favored, while those who are honest and fair will be hidden away. As a result, the more capable people there are, the more distorted government becomes; the more urgent and numerous the orders, the more confused the people become.
The realm is an undertaking of the greatest importance, and the imperial throne is of the greatest consequence. With capable people, the state is at peace; without them, it falls into disorder. A ruler must therefore spare no effort in seeking worthy people, and only then can he entrust tasks to them and remain at ease. How can anyone protect the state and unite the people without carefully examining and testing those who are capable?
The greatest cause for a ruler’s deep concern is injustice in human affairs; the gravest form is unfairness in criminal cases. A discerning judge may sometimes use cunning to draw out a confession, sometimes use authority to intimidate, sometimes appeal to emotion, and sometimes impose severe punishment. Though the methods differ, the judgment must ultimately be fair. Then the people will feel no grievance over an unrequited favor while alive, nor bear resentment after death. To take charge of state affairs, appoint officials, and administer punishments in this way is to govern well. In such an age, people’s hearts are harmonious and upright, every livelihood can flourish in due measure, and people care for and respect one another. The bonds between those above and those below are as firm as those within a family, and the state is not easily shaken.
After King Ping regained the throne and settled in the capital, he diligently sought worthy people. When someone reported good news to him, he would be pleased for several days. His attendants and close advisers repeatedly praised certain ministers as exceptionally worthy. A year later, King Ping said, “My virtue is not clear, and though I have devoted myself to seeking the worthy, I fear that truly capable and virtuous people in the mountains and villages have not been recommended. Have I shut myself off by enjoying praise? Recently, these flattering servants have repeatedly praised powerful men. They may simply be guessing what those around me want to hear, thinking that I am weak-minded and foolish, unable to judge for myself, and prone to hesitation because I rely on the old republican system. Nothing corrupts virtue more than allowing factions to form, attacking opponents, and claiming to be worthy.” He therefore executed three close attendants in the marketplace and demoted five officials responsible for overseeing the bureaucracy. He said, “Do not let ministers form alliances with their subordinates and deceive the ruler, simply to keep their stipends by telling him what he wants to hear.” When people throughout the realm heard this, they praised his fairness and clear judgment.
In an age of great order, carriages and clothing are plain, laws are lenient and simple, and prohibitions are few. When carriages and clothing are plain, people do not envy and compete with one another. When laws are lenient and simple, there are few constraints on people’s lives. When prohibitions are few, people can easily avoid wrongdoing and are less likely to break the rules. When people do not envy one another, their desires diminish, and they are willing to be content with their work and livelihood. When people’s lives are not hemmed in by constraints, their feelings can find expression and communication between those above and below becomes more harmonious. When it is easy to avoid wrongdoing and right and wrong are clear, people respect virtue and understand shame. Being content with one’s work is called compliance; living together in harmony is called concord; respecting virtue and understanding shame is called uprightness. The indolent and depraved cannot overcome compliance, the rebellious and discordant cannot overcome concord, and the corrupt cannot overcome uprightness. Compliance, concord, and uprightness are the foundations of governing a state.
An age of decline is the opposite: carriages and clothing are luxurious, laws are complicated and invoke prayers to avert disaster, and prohibitions are biased. When carriages and clothing are luxurious, people compete with one another. When laws are complicated, people’s lives are full of constraints. When prohibitions are biased, people do not know how to avoid breaking them. As a result, everyone is ashamed of plainness and prizes ornament; people cannot communicate their feelings, and those above and below become estranged and opposed. Measures of surveillance and punishment keep multiplying, yet the people no longer fear death. Truly upright people refuse to serve amid a culture of ostentation; fair and just people refuse to serve in an obstructed environment; capable people refuse to serve amid headlong confusion. Ostentation, obstruction, and reckless haste are the steps by which a state descends into disorder.
The ruler of Chu, Xiong Yu, asked about the relationship between floods and droughts and the order or disorder of a state. Kang Cangzi said, “Floods and droughts are caused by the seasons; order and disorder are caused by human affairs. When human affairs are harmonious, even floods and droughts cannot cause great harm. Yao and Tang are examples. That is why the Zhou Offices says, ‘Human effort can overcome natural disasters.’ If human affairs are corrupt and disordered, the state will collapse day by day even without floods or droughts. Did Jie and Zhou lose their states only because of floods and droughts?” The ruler of Chu turned north, bowed, and said, “Heaven has not abandoned me, since I have been able to hear these words.” He presented Kang Cangzi with a great jade disk worth ten peng as a gift for his longevity and appointed him Deputy Yin, an official who assisted the ruler, hoping to set the state on a better course. Kang Cangzi was unable to refuse. The next night, he changed into ordinary clothes, left Chu, and traveled to another state.
In an age of great order, there are no people in the mountains pretending to be recluses, no people in the markets making profit through crooked means, and no one at court who has gained office or stipend through flattery. Production throughout the state is abundant. Someone asked, “How can the people be made simple and honest?” Kang Cangzi said, “When government orders are complicated and severe, the people become deceitful and false; when orders are few and consistent, the people become simple and honest. The people’s customs change according to the shape of government, just as a looper changes color to match the leaves it eats.” He was then asked, “How can the people be made prosperous?” Kang Cangzi said, “If taxes are collected at the proper times and the authorities are honest and frugal, the people will be prosperous. If taxes are collected without restraint and the authorities are extravagant and indulgent, the people will be poor.”
The shafts and heads of arrows from Yue were made of refined gold, and their feathers came from birds of prey. If used to strike something, they were no different from an ordinary wooden stick. But when used against an enemy in battle to decide the outcome, mounted on a powerful crossbow, they could bring down an opponent from three hundred paces away. The Feijing sword had an edge that seemed to overwhelm the daylight, its brilliance dazzling and its energy as powerful as a purple rainbow. If used only to cut up game, it was no different from an ordinary blade. But when wielded against vicious forces to quell disorder, no enemy within a thousand miles could withstand its power. People’s abilities each have their limits, and objects each have their proper uses. What matters is knowing how to respond to the moment.
In ancient times, when enlightened rulers held the throne, the realm was peaceful and all things flourished; every living being could grow to its full potential. This was the result of knowing how to follow the times without causing needless disturbance. In recent generations, corrupt people have been numerous and upright people few; people who are frivolous and pursue profit have been numerous, while those who are sincere, upright, quiet, and self-possessed have been few. The words of corrupt people are often more pleasing than the words of the loyal and honest. As a result, people throughout the realm suspect and harm one another. How lamentable!
Laws should be formulated so that it is easy for people to avoid wrongdoing and difficult for them to commit it. To remedy abuses of government, reduce complicated affairs and make orders consistent. Remove domineering people, and officials will be able to do their work in peace. Enforce criminal prohibitions, and officials will not dare to pursue only their private interests; the people, too, will become prosperous.
Shi Xing said, “When calamities occur, the court often grants a general amnesty. Amnesty should not be too frequent. If too many people are pardoned, wrongdoers will think they have an opportunity, and ordinary people will begin to consider imitating them. Worthy people, meanwhile, will be unable to put their abilities to use. When someone commits a serious crime, officials who arrest and question him may seize the opportunity to fabricate charges and implicate innocent, upright people. The case can drag on for a long time, and the offender may eventually be pardoned, while those who suffered remain without justice and must endure their pain alone. Ordinary people then repeatedly entertain the idea of taking advantage of the system and doing wrong. Officials are worn out trying to cope, and government becomes harsh without managing to stop wrongdoing. These are the harms caused by frequent amnesties.
“People avoid the unrighteous and unjust because they know they will be punished; they are willing to act rightly and uphold justice because they know they will be rewarded. If wrongdoers are pardoned while those who do good and uphold justice are envied and denied reward, how can anyone expect people to act well?”
The people’s resentment does not arise because the ruler has failed to receive them, and the spirits’ anger does not arise because people have failed to offer sacrifices. The more clever flattery there is, the deeper the people’s resentment becomes; the more extravagant and improper the sacrifices, the greater the spirits’ anger grows.
Heaven and Earth give life to and nurture the myriad things; human beings are responsible for caring for them and helping them flourish. Only those who follow what Heaven and Earth bring forth, without harming or disturbing the myriad things, deserve to be called Sons of Heaven. A Son of Heaven should act according to the principle of preserving all that is born of Heaven. Official posts are established for the same purpose: to preserve life. Some foolish rulers today create many offices, only to harm the people’s livelihoods. They have forgotten why offices were established in the first place.
When plants and trees grow too densely, they rot and become infested with insects. When people are oppressed, they fall ill. When a state is obstructed, all manner of abuses arise together, followed by disorder and danger. A state is obstructed when the ruler’s virtuous governance does not reach the people and the people’s wishes cannot reach the ruler. For this reason, enlightened rulers value loyal ministers and upright men who dare to speak frankly and clear away obstructions. When a ruler restrains personal desires and acts according to ritual, worthy people will come of their own accord. When the ruler plows the fields personally and the consort raises silkworms, the people, too, will be influenced. This shows that worthy people can only be awaited; they cannot be compelled to come. Those obtained by force may not be worthy. The people can be influenced, but they cannot be driven by punishments. To use punishments excessively is contrary to reason.
Yao and Shun diligently fulfilled the duties of rulers, yet had none of the selfish desires of rulers, so everyone under Heaven could fulfill their wishes. They held the ruler’s position without the ruler’s selfishness, so everyone under Heaven could give free expression to their aspirations. Some people are cherished by all under Heaven, yet disliked by the ruler; others are favored only by the ruler, while the people do not like them. Appoint those cherished by all under Heaven, and the state will be secure. Appoint those favored by the ruler alone, and the state will be in danger. How can a ruler give free rein to personal likes and dislikes?
To care deeply for all under Heaven, one must restrain personal feelings. “All under Heaven” means that all the myriad things are included; to possess a state means to possess its many people. A state rests on its people: only when the people are at peace can the state be at peace. Therefore, a ruler concerned for the state should make every effort to seek out those skilled in governing the people.
Jade is difficult to distinguish because there are strange stones that resemble it in shape. Gold is difficult to distinguish because there is brass-like ore that resembles it in appearance. If a quail’s wings are covered, someone with poor eyesight may mistake it for a hawk; only those who see clearly know that it is really a quail. In the same way, some petty people recite scriptures and methods, study ingenious crafts, discuss all kinds of doctrines, and then don official robes of blue and purple. The foolish hear their words and see their dress and mistake them for noble men. Only those who understand clearly, after hearing and observing them, know that they are petty people.
Thus, it is right for a ruler with a clear mind to select people on the basis of their words, abilities, and conduct. A ruler who cannot distinguish right from wrong and appoints people solely on the basis of such outward displays will bring about disorder. The Sage, in appointing people, values achievements that the ears cannot hear, the eyes cannot see, and the mouth cannot describe: real accomplishments that do not depend on a celebrated reputation, outward show, or smooth and flattering speech, but allow the people to live peacefully and manage their own affairs.
If a ruler values achievements that can be heard, people under Heaven will chase after profit and buy reputations everywhere. If the ruler values achievements that can be seen, people will deliberately display their appearance and ingenious crafts, competing to win opportunities for advancement. If the ruler values achievements that can be spoken of, people will train themselves in glib speech and polish their words. When everyone seeks prominence by buying reputations, showing off, and embellishing their speech, governance will decay.
Rulers all know that a mirror can show them their own appearance, yet they dislike men of learning who point out their faults. A mirror reveals only small matters, while men of learning can point out faults to great benefit. To value the mirror’s function while losing the help of men of learning is truly unreasonable. When a ruler is tranquil and keeps affairs simple, and ministers are respectful, frugal, and faithful to their duties, peace can be achieved swiftly. Yet rulers in the world sometimes think this difficult to do; I do not understand why.
If a ruler cannot discern and decide matters inwardly, the patterns by which Heaven and Earth operate, along with the order sustaining the myriad kinds of plants and animals within the four seas, will all be disrupted. Selecting people by what the eyes and ears perceive leads to more official posts and confused affairs of state. Selecting them through careful reflection leads to fewer posts and clear governance. Thus, in times of peace and stability, people devote themselves to seeking those whose achievements are not displayed through sound and spectacle. In times of decline and turmoil, they busy themselves choosing those whose achievements can be seen and heard. Do rulers understand the reason for this?
When people are selected by what the eyes and ears perceive, everyone competes for opportunities and buys a reputation. When they are selected through careful judgment of the heart, everyone becomes upright and composed, and diligently cultivates De. When officials are upright and composed, and diligently cultivate De, the people will be influenced naturally, even without many commands. When officials compete for fame and profit and buy reputations, punishments will not make them truly respectful. Do the rulers of the world understand this?
When a state’s fortunes are about to flourish, the officials at court differ in every way. Some are tall, others short; some plain-looking, others strikingly handsome; some calm in expression, others stern. Their opinions also vary. At first, when one hears what they say and observes their appearance, they seem greatly at odds. But when their aims and inner feelings are examined, it becomes clear that they are all devoted to the state. They therefore do not fear public opinion or worry about whether the ruler approves of them.
Even when they speak frankly and criticize, they do not hold grudges; when dismissed or demoted, they do not lose their composure. Their counsel accords with reason and does not depart from the right way. As a result, the seasons run their course without disruption, the land yields abundance, the people carry out their affairs without disorder, the spirits offer their protection, distant peoples submit, and all things live together in harmony and thrive.
When a state’s fortunes are about to decline, the officials at court are often handsome and pleasant in expression. Their words are smooth and mild, and their manner composed and polished. Their appearance and speech suggest that they get along well. But when their aims and inner feelings are examined, it becomes clear that they are all competing for office. They therefore find strange anything new and react with alarm and rejection to differing opinions. They envy and obstruct one another, and in the end they lose the right way. Then Heaven sends down calamities and portents, the land produces strange things, people act wickedly, the spirits bring misfortune, foreign peoples invade one after another, the state falls into great disorder, and all things lose their vitality.
A minister who can establish achievements and administer affairs without wasting resources, burdening the people, or harming officials—thereby making the people prosperous and deepening the ruler’s Virtue—is a loyal and worthy minister. A minister who wastes resources, troubles the people, and harms officials, seeking only immediate results and gain in order to win the ruler’s praise and rewards, while disregarding the calamities this will leave for the state in the future, is a treacherous minister.
In times of clear and orderly government, people are suited to the offices they hold. In times of disorder, people are instead constrained by their offices. Zhulong asked how one should serve a ruler. Kangcangzi replied: “Since you hold office as a minister, fairness is most important in your heart, harmony in your bearing, and uprightness in your words. Fairness need not be deliberately displayed; harmony must not lapse into muddle; and uprightness must not become offense.”
In ancient times, people applied themselves diligently to government in order to govern the state. Today, some apply themselves diligently to government for the sake of their own reputation. Those who put state affairs in order for the good of the state arrange tasks and set out their particulars in ways suited to each situation and in keeping with the larger picture. Those who seek a name for themselves may also arrange tasks and set out their particulars, but they attend only to immediate concerns or minor details and cannot see what lies ahead.
From this we can see that when the Dao is foremost in one’s heart, affairs can be handled appropriately; when affairs themselves are foremost, one is liable to mishandle the things one encounters. A minister who holds high office but does not offer remonstrance, or who holds low office but does not act impartially, does not deserve a stipend. If a ruler is not solemn and prudent, ministers cannot establish trustworthiness. A junior official who is not competent should not remain in government. A person with ability is not necessarily loyal, and a loyal person is not necessarily capable. A minister should not fear being disloyal; what he should fear is serving loyally without the ruler’s trust. Nor should he fear that the ruler does not trust him; what he should fear is that, once trusted, he will be unable to fulfill his duties.
When people of the highest kind act according to their nature, the world can be governed. When people of the middle kind act according to their nature, the world may fall into disorder. A wise ruler, when employing people of the highest kind, should entrust them with authority and let them respond flexibly to circumstances. When employing people of the middle kind, the ruler should assess their achievements and clearly explain the rewards and punishments.
Chapter Six, “On the Worthy,” discusses how to recognize worthy people, where talented people come from, and the difference between the worthy and the talented.
Worthy and virtuous people are often sought again and again, yet are not easy to find. They have difficulty advancing, and once appointed, are quick to withdraw. This is not because they cherish their own lives and refuse to die for their country, but because they fear that, after giving their utmost loyalty, their ruler will still refuse to trust them. Truly talented and discerning people appear respectful and cautious, yet are not inwardly anxious or fearful. They treat others with kindness and integrity, but are neither frivolous nor overly familiar. When others draw close to them, they become more reserved; when others keep their distance, they step back and leave without resentment. In hardship, they console themselves with Heaven’s mandate; once they attain prominence, they use righteousness to keep themselves upright.
People recognize their virtue from their bearing and speech, and assess them by their spirit and their performance in office. Some, however, fall short of the expectations placed in them. When a worthy person is appointed, they use words in court to offer counsel and support good government, and remain respectful and quiet after court. In office, they work diligently and make sound distinctions; at home, they live simply and peacefully. Before they are appointed, they hide among the multitude, keep their insight in their eyes and their words in their mouths, live in peace and cultivate themselves, and hold to what is right without resentment.
The wise are not confused by difficult tasks; those who understand principle are not confused by other people. A discerning person, even in danger, does not show timidity or fear in their expression. Their speech is modest, but the principles they uphold cannot be shaken. A worthy person does not call themselves worthy. Their virtue must be judged by the results of their governance and by their achievements in handling specific affairs. In times of peace, the highest sort of person applies their insight, the middling sort endures hardship, and ordinary people contribute their physical strength.
In the state of Qi, there was a man called Pouzi, whose abilities were enough to revive the state and whose conduct allowed him to stand on his own. He served his parents with filial devotion and care, and treated people in his community with respect and courtesy. Because his family was poor and he could not support himself, he traveled widely with sincerity and a commitment to righteousness. After a long time, he had rarely met anyone who shared his ideals. At times, people who fawned on the powerful and ingratiated themselves through clever tricks mocked and deceived him. So, leaning on a staff, he walked to Kangcangzi.
Kangcangzi said, “I have heard that the Perfected Person, one whose cultivation has reached the highest state, forgets private feelings, while ordinary people do not know how to handle feelings and affairs. Since people have feelings in their hearts, they should devote themselves to moral instruction and honor trustworthiness and righteousness.”
Pouzi sighed and said, “I now find that I do not know whether doing things skillfully without being trusted counts as ‘skill’; whether being trustworthy without being believed counts as true trustworthiness; or whether diligently admiring righteousness without considering oneself righteous counts as true righteousness. If this is so, the trustworthy and righteous are often lonely, destitute, and withdrawn from the world. How, then, can they earn the world’s respect?”
Kangcangzi bent down to straighten his robe, raised his head with a sigh, and then sang calmly: “When the age is flourishing, trustworthiness and righteousness thrive; when the age lies dormant, they lie hidden. Whether thriving or hidden, I let fate take its course. I have no private preferences, and in my reverie I do not even know what I am singing.”
To live in accordance with one’s true nature and receive no response from the world: this is what it means for the true Dao to be impossible to put into practice. When the true Dao cannot be put into practice, this is called “the loss of the Dao.” When the Dao is lost, the highest sort of person withdraws. There is a principle in withdrawal: sometimes one has the will to act, but no opportunity to put it into effect; sometimes one has abilities that could be put to use, but no one to appoint them.
The Duke of Ji asked, “How can we find worthy people and talented people?” Kangcangzi replied, “Worthy people uphold what is right and should be awaited; they must not be deliberately sought out. Talented people should be sought with care. If the method of seeking them is improper, the result will disappoint. When the ruler is composed, the ministers perceptive and impartial, punishments are imposed without sparing the powerful, and the benefits of government do not neglect the common people, worthy people will naturally arrive and be willing to serve. Once worthy people are appointed, people throughout the realm can calmly observe the government, clearly hear its commands, and live openly without pent-up grievances. Heaven and Earth each find their proper place, all things are nourished and transformed in harmony, and the spirits have no occasion to display their wonders. That is why worthy people should be awaited, not forced into service.”
When the ruler is diligent and clear-minded and the ministers are harmonious and impartial, the people who are found will be broad-minded, principled, fair, and upright, and able to bring stability to the people. When the ruler is harsh and fault-finding and the ministers are impatient, the people found will be devious, ingratiating, and willing to abandon their principles. When the ruler is suspicious and distrustful and the ministers are skilled at compliance, the people found will have strange backgrounds and peculiar names, and will be sycophantic, perverse, and versed in occult techniques. When the ruler considers himself worthy and the ministers care only to keep their positions, the people found will be concerned with appearances, pursue fame, and be greedy, corrupt, ostentatious, and hollow. When the ruler is indecisive and the ministers are crafty and flattering, the people found will be disloyal within but proper in appearance, cruel at heart but gentle in speech. Therefore, talented people must be sought with care. If the method is wrong, the result will be poor.
In ancient times, the Yellow Emperor gained Changxian, Fenghong, Guirong, Qiushang, and others. King Tang of Shang gained Yi Yin and thereby revived his state, and later gained Fu and Shen. Duke Huan of Qi gained Ning Qi. These rulers practiced the Great Dao, put benevolence and virtue into effect, made their wise authority known, sought to bring brightness to their states, and treated people with generosity and integrity. That is why worthy people naturally arrived and were willing to serve. They did not obtain them through meticulous scrutiny and deliberate recruiting.
The Duke of Ji asked again, “You say worthy people come of their own accord and need not be sought. Are there also people who are not worthy, yet come of their own accord without being sought?” Kangcangzi said, “There are many unworthy people who come without being sought. When the world has the Dao, worthy people arrive of their own accord without being sought; when the world lacks the Dao, unworthy people do the same. Rulers who have the Dao are few, while those who lack it are many; worthy people in the world are few, while the unworthy are many. Therefore, those who arrive without being sought are often unworthy.”
The Duke of Ji asked, “Worthy people can help the world, and talented people can help the world. Both can accomplish things for the realm. Why distinguish between the worthy and the talented?” Kangcangzi replied, “That is a truly difficult question. When their work is done and their task complete, those who do not pursue rewards or fame, but respectfully yield and live simply and frugally, are called worthy people. Those who, after their work is done and their task complete, claim the glory through rank and salary, spread their fame widely, and take delight in themselves are called talented people. Worthy people can bring stability to a state, and talented people can govern one. To bring stability is to make the state harmonious and peaceful without deliberate exertion, so that the people do not know the force behind it. To govern is to lead people diligently in carrying out their work, so that they can see one’s virtue. One worthy person can command many talented people and still have strength to spare; many talented people may assess a single worthy person and still find him beyond their measure. This is the difference between the worthy and the talented.”
Some worthy people live in the mountains and forests, yet their hearts are restless; others live among crowds, yet their hearts are at peace. Some appear noisy but conduct themselves with integrity, while others appear quiet but behave perversely. If we judge only by appearances, there is scarcely one person in ten thousand whose humble appearance conceals real virtue, while among those who look refined, nine out of ten are often petty people. To judge writings without being swayed by empty talk, to assess bearing without making excessive demands of appearance, to discern good conduct without trusting praise, and to avoid condemning someone rashly because of slander: only those who can get at the facts in this way deserve to be called discerning.
Min Ziqian asked Confucius, “What is the relationship between the Dao and filial devotion?”
Confucius replied, “The Dao is the subtle working of nature’s course. Filial devotion is the highest virtue within the human order. The Dao embraces and sets Heaven and Earth in motion, allowing the myriad things to grow and giving each kind its proper place. It also endows all things with their nature and lifespan. Its workings are real and profound, yet it does not claim the myriad things as its own or take credit for its achievements. Looking, listening, touching, or seeking cannot truly grasp it, so it is called the ‘Dao.’ When the Dao is put into practice in human relationships, it is called ‘filial devotion.’
“Filial devotion means treating one’s parents well. Its foundation is respect and obedience: understanding your parents’ wishes, acting in keeping with them, and doing all you can to care for them. In what you say and do, never forget your parents. Serve your ruler loyally, keep faith with your friends, govern your subordinates respectfully, and pursue goodness diligently. Even when alone, do not dare to relax your sincerity. Only when you do all this have you fulfilled your filial duty.
“When sincerity reaches its utmost, it can move the spirits and become known throughout the four quarters. Prayers receive a response. All this comes from treating one’s parents well.
“Long ago, Shun was a person of profound filial devotion. His stepmother deceived his father, repeatedly hating him and plotting to kill him. Yet Shun became even more respectful and cautious. Though afraid, he harbored no resentment or intent to harm them. His stepmother told him to dig a well. After he climbed down, she covered it with earth. Heaven sent an auspicious sign, and the spirits made their presence known; Shun escaped through a passage beside the well. Afterward, he continued to serve his parents with even greater care. Because of his profound virtue, he eventually became ruler of all under Heaven. This too came from treating one’s parents well.
“When King Wen of Zhou was crown prince, he was also deeply filial. Every morning and evening, he went to the door of his parents’ chambers and asked their attendants how they were. If he heard they were well, his face brightened; if he heard they felt even slightly unwell, his face filled with worry. When his parents ate, he always checked whether their food was hot or cold. After the meal, he made sure he knew what they had eaten before withdrawing. If he heard they were ill, he put his clothes in order and purified his mind through fasting. He respectfully inspected the food prepared by the cooks, and personally tasted any medicine offered to them. He could eat well only when his parents ate well. If they had little appetite, he could not eat his fill either. He resumed eating normally only when they had recovered. If his parents made a mistake, he gently advised them with a kindly expression. He treated with respect even the smallest things they loved.
“Thus King Wen cultivated filial virtue within himself, and his influence through virtue spread throughout the world. The Book of Songs praises him as ‘ascending and descending at the Emperor’s side,’ meaning that Heaven would aid him whether he was active or still. Therefore King Zhou could not harm him. Heaven gave him a long life, and his line continued for thirty generations, while his dynasty endured for seven hundred years. All this was ordained by Heaven and was also connected to his care for his parents.”
Min Ziqian said, “I have been fortunate to hear the principles of treating one’s parents well. May I ask what principles should guide the upbringing of children?”
Confucius said, “When the Three Kings raised their crown princes, they always had them study ritual and music. Music was used to cultivate the inner self, while ritual regulated outward conduct. With ritual and music working together, virtue appeared in a person’s bearing, making them gentle, respectful, and clear-minded. A minister may even sacrifice himself for the good of his ruler; how much more should he cultivate himself in order to assist the ruler? For this reason, the Three Kings chose loyal, worthy, and upright people to serve as tutors to the crown princes, teaching them the principles of relationships between parent and child, ruler and minister, and elder and younger. Only someone who understands how to be a child can become a good parent; only someone who understands how to be a minister can become a good ruler; only someone who understands how to serve others can lead them. These were the principles by which the Three Kings raised their crown princes.”
When Min Ziqian returned home, he put these teachings into practice. Three years later, no one had a single word of complaint about his parents or brothers. His friends praised his trustworthiness, his neighbors praised his kindness, and his clan praised his brotherly affection. His virtuous reputation spread throughout the world. This too came from treating one’s parents well.
The crown prince of Qi was seated on the Terrace of Clarity. Zhuanghou of Yan wore a tall crown and had a solemn expression. A jade-fitted sword hung at his left side and a ring pendant at his right; their brilliance reflected one another. The crown prince was absorbed in reading and did not look up at him. Zhuanghou asked, “Does Qi have any treasures?” The crown prince replied, “The ruler keeps faith, the ministers are loyal, and the people support their ruler. These are the treasures of Qi.” Hearing this, Zhuanghou immediately unfastened his sword and left.
Alas, people may have biases and failings without noticing them for their entire lives. When the worthy see another person’s failings, they are tolerant and say nothing; petty people condemn them excessively. Among relatives, affection and jealousy may mingle, leading them to say contradictory things about one another. How could it be easy for people to recognize their own failings?
Thus the noble person continually examines himself, as though he always had faults to correct. If he knows he has done wrong yet cannot correct it, he regards this as shameful. When he is about to say something, if he knows he cannot do what he says, he is slow to speak. Before condemning the faults of others, he first asks whether he himself is truly good; before condemning their perversity, he first asks whether he himself is truly upright. This is called turning one’s scrutiny inward in order to understand what is right.
The son of Zhai Xi was extremely filial and careful. Zhai Xi loved his son, yet often made things up without thinking. When his son left in the morning and returned in the evening, Zhai Xi would say, “Jia has died.” His son believed him, only to discover later that Jia was still alive. Another evening, Zhai Xi said, “Yi is going to harm me.” His son waited to avenge his father, but later discovered that there was no ill will or grudge at all. On yet another evening, Zhai Xi said, “Ding is ill.” His son went to visit him and found that Ding was safe and well.
This happened again and again, year after year. Though the son had been filial and careful, he gradually stopped believing what his father said. The people of the village detested Zhai Xi’s troublesome tongue and agreed to kill him. When Zhai Xi heard of this, he was frightened and told his son, but his son did not really believe him. Later, Zhai Xi was indeed killed.
Some people speak at length and are thought careless with secrets; others use few words yet are not discreet. The frivolous are thought to be fickle, but some people appear calm while inwardly remaining restless. Those who are disorderly and scattered are thought trivial, but some people look clean while inwardly being corrupt. There are too many such cases to list them all. Without penetrating observation, how can anyone truly understand?
Sometimes a matter demands a response. Then one should remain calm within and act outwardly. Sometimes a matter demands that one seek something. Then one should first consider it inwardly and wait outwardly, acting when the time is right. If the mind is restless, one’s thoughts will waver and harm one’s nature. Chasing after profit leaves body and mind exhausted and damages one’s reputation.
In life, some people declare that they are merely “out of luck” whenever things do not go their way. This is as dangerous as wearing the red mark of a condemned criminal around one’s neck while awaiting execution. If a person of broad learning and clear understanding has not yet been appointed to office, the proper thing to say is: “The age is not lacking in clarity; my fate simply has not yet brought me the opportunity.” This is what reason allows one to say.
Those skilled at giving advice work with the other person’s existing disposition and restrain whatever gives rise to strong feelings. This allows the two sides to learn from one another, draw close while remaining respectful, and deepen their bond. Those unskilled at giving advice attack the other person’s disposition without understanding where their feelings come from. As a result, the two sides grow suspicious of one another, and their estrangement accumulates over time. What a child thinks of as unimportant, an older person may consider improper. What pleases the eyes and ears may repel the mind. Those quick to condemn the whole world as foolish are not yet wise enough themselves; those quick to condemn the whole world as deluded do not yet understand clearly enough. To condemn others as foolish on the basis of wisdom one has not yet attained is to deprive oneself of a place to stand. To condemn others as deluded on the basis of clarity one has not yet attained is to injure oneself.
If agriculture, the foundation, is abandoned in favor of pursuing other affairs, government orders will become inconsistent. When government orders are inconsistent, the state can neither defend itself nor wage war. When people look down on farming, household wealth dwindles; when households lack resources, people are more likely to migrate and become displaced, and the state often suffers disasters. As people turn away from farming, they also gradually lose the desire for a settled life.
Neglecting the root in pursuit of the branches can also lead people to prize cleverness and contrivance. When they pursue such cleverness single-mindedly, they resort more often to deceit. As deceit spreads, people find cunning ways around the law and turn right and wrong upside down. The sage kings of antiquity always began governing the people by devoting themselves to agriculture. They urged people to farm not only to make use of the land’s produce, but even more to help them remain in their proper place and follow the right path. Farmers are simple and straightforward, and simple people are easy to govern. When the people are settled, the borders are secure and the ruler’s position is stable. Those who farm value the land and have fewer selfish desires, making it easier to establish fair laws.
When fields are cultivated widely and thoroughly, household wealth can be restored. When households have enough, people are less likely to scatter, and are willing to stay where they live without wavering. In this way, the whole realm can act with one mind. The achievements of Huangdi, Xuanyuan, and Qu Boyu in governing the realm amounted to no more than this.
The sage kings of antiquity strongly encouraged farming and weaving, treating them as the foundation of instruction. The Son of Heaven personally led the feudal lords in plowing the ceremonial fields, public land whose produce was used for sacrifices and other purposes. Officials and gentlemen also took part in farming, thereby urging the people to cherish the land. The queen led the palace women in raising silkworms in the suburbs and gathering mulberry leaves from public fields. In this way, she encouraged women to work diligently and taught them the duties of women. Men who do not weave cloth yet wear clothes, and women who do not farm yet eat, do so because men and women each fulfill their own duties and complement one another. This is the system established by the sage kings.
Therefore, respect the seasons for farming and cherish each day; assess achievement according to the actual harvest. Do not stop working before old age, and do not rest except when illness makes it necessary. One person’s hard labor feeds ten people. During the busy farming season, do not undertake construction projects or mobilize troops. Men should not leave for military service, and women should not marry far away, lest farming be disrupted.
Huangdi said that the sequence of the four seasons cannot be corrected by human action; all one can do is seize the right time to sow the five grains. Crops are sown by people, grow through the land, and are nourished by the seasons. Therefore, sow in the right quantity, and weed and loosen the soil at the right time and in the right measure. This is the way of farming. Farmers should devote themselves to producing grain, craftspeople to making wares, and merchants to trading goods. To disregard the farming season and commandeer labor for construction projects is an extremely bad course of action.
If crops are sown too early, they sprout before the proper season; if sown too late, the opportunity is missed. When cold and heat are out of season, crops are readily damaged. Fifty-seven days after the winter solstice, plants begin to sprout and grow; that is when spring plowing should begin. The principle of farming is this: when life begins to emerge, sow the appropriate crops; when they ripen, harvest them in time. The seasons have their appointed times, and the land has its produce; neither waits for people. Whether the year is good or bad, one must not miss the farming season: begin when the time comes, and stop when it has passed. If people understand the seasons, even the old and weak can each contribute what they can. Those who do not understand the seasons act rashly before the time comes, regret it after the opportunity has passed, and fail to value it when the time is right. This is the worst way to go about any task.
It is best to weed in dry weather, which makes the soil fertile and loose. Crops sprout well in loose soil and take root in firmer ground. Sow carefully, neither too densely nor too sparsely; apply the right amount of fertilizer, neither too little nor too much. Make the ridges deep and straight, and the fields fertile and level, so that the plants have shade below and sunlight above. Then the crops will thrive and grow in orderly rows.
When crops grow in orderly rows, strong and weak plants do not hinder one another, and they grow faster. Arrange the spacing so that air can circulate between the plants; the harvest will be good and the work easier. If the crops seem dense from afar but sparse up close, the land’s produce has been lost. If weeds are not removed, the field will become overgrown; if they are removed carelessly, the crops will be left too sparse. Both harm the farming.
When seedlings are small and weak, they should have room to grow apart. As they grow larger, they should be allowed to lean on one another; when mature, they should support one another. Grain often yields more when three stalks grow together. Seedlings are most at risk when some sprout early and others late, yet all wither at the same time: the early ones produce fine grain, while the late ones often bear only shriveled kernels. Therefore, when weeding, keep the strong seedlings and remove the weak ones. In fertile soil, do not let seedlings grow too densely; in poor soil, do not leave them isolated. When seedlings are too dense in fertile soil, there will be many shriveled kernels; when isolated in poor soil, they are likely to wither. Those who do not know how to weed may remove the strong seedlings and leave the weak ones. As a result, they harvest no full, sound grain, only shriveled kernels. The plants are then unstable both above and below the soil, and readily wither.
Rice planted at the proper time has long stalks and large ears, with round grains and thin husks. Its grain is soft and sweet, easy to pound, and nourishing to eat. Rice planted too late has long awns, thin stalks, and pointed ears, with many shriveled kernels of a dark green color.
Millet planted at the proper time has awnless ears and full grains, with little husk. Millet planted too late has thick roots and stems and luxuriant foliage, but short ears.
Rice planted at the proper time has thick, long stalks and ears like a horse’s tail. Rice planted too late has thin, weak stalks and sparse growth, thick husks, and readily succumbs to disaster and withers.
Hemp planted at the proper time has widely spaced joints, a bright color, strong fibers, and small roots and stems. Hemp planted too late has many branches, short stems, thick joints, and leaves that are easily infested by insects.
Beans planted at the proper time have long stems and short roots. Their pods grow in clusters of fourteen, with many branches and closely spaced joints. Their leaves are luxuriant, their fruit full, and they are heavy when weighed. Eating them gives people strength. Beans planted too late may have long but weak and hollow vines, sparse leaves, shallow roots, widely spaced joints, and small pods.
Wheat planted at the proper time has long stalks and black necks at the ears, with fourteen ears in each row. Its husks are thin and pale, and eating it makes people strong and robust. Wheat planted too late has swollen, loose grains that can make people ill, as well as weak seedlings and short ears.
Thus, crops sown at the proper time yield abundantly, while those sown too late yield poorly. All kinds of grain are suitable for food: they strengthen the limbs and sharpen the hearing and sight, making it difficult for inauspicious influences to enter and reducing bodily misfortune. Confucius said it well: “In winter, eating one’s fill warms the body; in summer, eating one’s fill cools it.” When food suits the season, people are less likely to fall ill. When fewer people fall ill, epidemics do not spread, and everyone can live out their full span of years.
Therefore, grain is the foundation on which people depend for survival. A flourishing ruler will surely value agriculture. If a ruler does not value agriculture, he abandons the people. And if the ruler abandons the people, how can he govern the state?
Qin Jingzhu, ruler of Qin, sent the senior minister Bao Rong to lead an army on campaign, demanding that he complete his mission at all costs. He offered twelve cities as a reward and invited Kangcangzi to come and assist him. Kangcangzi traveled from Rongquan to Qin and took up residence in a fine guesthouse. After three days without an opportunity to seek his counsel, Jingzhu rose from his seat, faced north, and bowed, saying, “Can it be that Heaven truly has no compassion for me, a lone and vulnerable man?”
Kangcangzi remained composed and glanced at him. “I thought the ruler wished to ask about extraordinary principles. I did not expect you to be so troubled by assassination and military campaigns. Still, since you wish to ask, I will speak of what is right, in keeping with your wishes.”
Jingzhu bowed twice, straightened his robes, held his jade tablet upright, and sat with his head lowered. “This truly is a mission entrusted to me by Heaven.”
Kangcangzi looked up at the roof beams and sighed. Then he leaned forward and spoke with grave expression. “I would like to discuss the origins of war. War arose along with humanity. It is a way for people to wield power, and human power is bestowed by Heaven. Thus war has existed for a long time and has scarcely paused for an instant. Its signs can be seen among people of every rank and age, wise or foolish. Resentment held within but not yet released is war. Glaring eyes and a flushed face are war. Arrogant words and jostling one another are war. Large-scale fighting and military campaigns are war as well. These four forms are simply conflicts on different scales.
“Even before Chi You, people took up pieces of wood and fought one another. The Yellow Emperor wielded the forces of water and fire; Gonggong raised troops in rebellion; and the Five Emperors fought among themselves. Some gain the upper hand, others lose it, and the victors take power. If someone dies after taking medicine, it is wrong to try to forbid medicine throughout the world. If someone is lost at sea, it is wrong to try to forbid shipbuilding everywhere. And if someone’s state falls because of war, it is equally wrong to try to forbid warfare throughout the world. War cannot be abolished, any more than water and fire can. Used well, they bring benefit; used poorly, they bring disaster. Thus a household cannot entirely do away with anger, reprimands, and beatings; a state cannot entirely do away with punishment; and the world cannot entirely do away with military campaigns. The sage kings of antiquity sought wars that accorded with righteousness, rather than stopping war altogether.
“Righteous armies—those whose purpose is to correct disorder and rescue the people—punish tyrants and relieve the suffering. The people rejoice, like filial children seeing loving parents or hungry servants encountering delicious food: they cry out and rush toward them. Their advance is like a powerful crossbow bolt shot into a deep ravine, impossible to stop. There is no need to look elsewhere to predict victory or defeat; the key lies in human nature. Everyone wishes to live and hates to die; everyone hopes for honor and hates disgrace. If the whole army understands this, its ranks will be united in purpose.
“An army needs numbers, but it needs unity of purpose even more. When the three divisions are of one mind, orders will be carried out and the army will be invincible. The skilled commanders of antiquity placed great importance on discipline: when their orders were forceful, the enemy seemed weak; when their orders were kept, the enemy was thrown into confusion, and victory was already assured. To prevail in this way is to prevail on the battlefield. If one can truly achieve this, what enemy could be difficult to defeat?
“An enemy attacks in pursuit of gain. If coming only means losing their lives, then it is more advantageous for them to flee. When every enemy soldier wants only to escape, there is no one left to cross blades with. This is the highest art of war.
“Arrogance and cruelty, deceit and betrayal run counter to the Dao and to what is right; the two cannot coexist. Thus, when a righteous army enters enemy territory, the people know that someone has come to protect them. When the army reaches the outskirts of a town, it does not trample orchards or crops, dig up graves, destroy stores, or burn houses. Captives are treated generously and then sent home. Promises made to the people are kept. The enemy state’s resources are used to make clear what is good and bad, and what accords with or opposes the right. Only after all this, if some remain stubborn and violent, arrogant and disobedient, may force be used.
“Before resorting to arms, the army must first proclaim its orders: ‘We have taken up arms to rid the people of harm and follow the will of Heaven. Once we capture a town, we will not massacre its people; we will execute only those who deserve punishment.’ Then it selects worthy and capable people to honor and reward, seeks out orphans, the sick, and the elderly to help and care for them, opens the treasuries to distribute valuables, opens the granaries to give out grain, keeps nothing for itself, and treats the people with careful courtesy.
“If someone could bring a dead person back to life, people throughout the world would compete to serve him. A righteous army saves people’s lives and does many good deeds. Who would not rejoice at that? So when a righteous army arrives, people in neighboring states bring out their valuables and grain to welcome it. They do not hide their possessions; instead, they receive the army with courtesy. If people would act this way for someone who could restore the dead to life, all the more would they welcome a righteous army that rescues the people. Thus, when a righteous army arrives, people from neighboring states flock to join it like streams flowing into the sea; the people of the state being punished long for its coming as they would for the arrival of their parents. The farther the army travels, the more people rally to it.”
Before Kangcangzi had finished speaking, Jingzhu rose and bowed, saying, “I am fortunate to have heard your teaching. Without realizing it, I feel my mind has opened and my aims have found direction. My heart is more reverent than ever.” He stepped forward, raised a cup, and wished Kangcangzi a long life. He appointed him his chief teacher and, in the fasting chamber, honored him as his master with solemn rites. A month passed, then another ten days. On the day of Chen, Jingzhu went by day to the Heavenly Pass to practice the Dao and paid Kangcangzi the respects of a disciple.
Kangcangzi is the title of a book attributed to the Daoist figure Kangcangzi.
Source text: Godners/DaoZang; Licence: Apache-2.0 · Report an error / feedback