《冲虚至德真经解》Vol. 4
About this page. The original text of 《冲虚至德真经解》 Vol. 4 (Zangwai Daoshu 藏外道書, 5 volumes) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Godners/DaoZang edition. An English interpretation of the 5 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
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Source textInterpretation
So Lai Dan settled his wife in a safe place, without severing the relationship of mutual support and union between husband and wife. He fasted for seven days, focused his mind, and directed his attention to his body. When Yin and Yang were about to meet, he secretly taught him the Daoist method.
Lai Dan then took his sword and went to find Hei Luan. Hei Luan was drunk and lying beneath a window. Lai Dan struck him three times, from neck to waist, but Hei Luan noticed nothing. Thinking he had killed him, Lai Dan hurried away. At the doorway he encountered Hei Luan’s son and stabbed at him three times, as though striking empty space. Hei Luan’s son merely laughed and said, “Why have you greeted me three times?” Only then did Lai Dan realize that the sword could not kill anyone. Sighing, he went home.
When Hei Luan woke, he angrily reproached his wife: “While I was drunk, you let my neck get hurt, and my waist feels stiff.” His son also said, “Just now, Lai Dan met me at the doorway and stabbed at me three times. My body hurts too, and my limbs feel stiff. Does he hate me?”
The space beneath the window lay at the point where Yin and Yang meet. To be drunk there was to be dazed and unaware. Only when Yin had reached its height could a person be injured while unaware. Yet the Youlian sword, a legendary divine sword, could cause pain but could not break the skin or draw blood. So when Lai Dan struck Hei Luan with it, Hei Luan felt only pain in his neck and stiffness in his waist. When Lai Dan stabbed Hei Luan’s son, the son felt only bodily pain and stiffness in his limbs. Lai Dan therefore understood that the sword could not kill, and returned home with a sigh.
Although Hei Luan did not know he had been struck, his neck hurt and his waist felt stiff, and his body gradually grew weaker from then on. People see winter pass and spring grow warm, with Yang gradually increasing, but they do not know that the beginning of this change had quietly taken place in winter.
Consider the workings of Yin and Yang: Yin and Yang generate one another, as a father and son follow one another; they pair with one another, as husband and wife unite. As they alternate, there is life and death; as they contend, there are anger and resentment. When suppressed, they decline; when they seize the right moment, they flourish. The workings of Yin and Yang do not depend on external things, yet their effects are expressed through particular things. This is the character of Yin and Yang. The states of all things and the actions of people are governed by changes in Yin and Yang. Wei Hei Luan’s intimacy turning to hostility, and his killing of Qiu Bingzhang; Lai Dan’s vow to take up a sword and avenge his father by killing Hei Luan—all can be understood through changes in Yin and Yang.
Yin and Yang move in cycles, bringing life and death, but they are never wholly extinguished. Lai Dan was determined to kill Hei Luan, yet could not. If Hei Luan could truly have been killed, the principle of generation and transformation might have come to a stop. Qiu Bingzhang was already in a position of decline and subjection, and so could be killed. Wei Hei Luan was then flourishing and in control, and so was naturally difficult to kill. Moreover, Yang was beginning to emerge at that time, and Lai Dan’s fortunes were starting to change; Wei Hei Luan, too, already had a wife and son. The principle of Yin and Yang says that Yang arises at the hour of the Rat and Yin at the hour of the Horse. Yet Yang is present within Yin, and Yin within Yang, so their waxing and waning are often hard to predict. To understand the principle explained here in the Liezi is already to have grasped more than half of the Great Dao.
When King Mu of Zhou launched a major campaign against the Western Rong, an ancient name for peoples to the west, they presented him with a Kunwu sword, a legendary sword, and fire-washed cloth, a legendary fabric said to be cleaned by fire. The Kunwu sword was one chi and eight cun long, forged until it was hard and sharp. It could cut jade as easily as mud. The fire-washed cloth had to be cleaned in fire: when placed in the flames, the cloth took on their color, while the grime revealed the cloth’s original color. Once taken out and shaken, it became white as snow. The prince believed no such things existed in the world and said that those who spoke of them were making things up. Xiao Shu said, “You trust so firmly in what you have seen and heard. Is that not a rash judgment about how things are?”
The Kunwu sword and fire-washed cloth were gifts from the Western Rong, and had not existed in the Central Plains before. The prince’s knowledge was limited to what he had seen and heard. Unable to understand the wide range of changes in things, he declared that these objects did not exist and that those who described them were making things up. Was this not a rash judgment? This chapter of the Liezi speaks of matters beyond what people ordinarily know of heaven and earth: Nüwa mending the sky with molten stone, the Foolish Old Man moving mountains, Kuafu chasing the sun, Bian Que treating illness, the artisan Yan making dancing puppets, and Lai Dan wielding a sword. These stories illuminate profound principles, open the mind where its understanding is confined, and extend the reach of the eyes and ears. If people of shallow understanding believe only what they have seen and heard and do not seek deeper principles, how can they free themselves from the limits of their knowledge? That is why the chapter ends with this story.
The Explanation of “Tang’s Questions” says: The arising and passing away of all things continue to change according to their kind, inherent nature, feelings, and intentions. Their forms differ in countless ways: even Yu the Great had things he could not see, Boyi had things he could not hear, and Yijian had things he could not record. How could these transformations ever be exhausted? Though forms differ, their inherent nature is the same. The people of Longbo are immense in body, but their minds are no different from those of the Jiaoyao people, a legendary race of tiny stature. Though the Jiaoyao people are small in body, their likes and dislikes are the same as those of the people of Longbo. Though the tiny Jiaoming insect is small, its life is not deficient; though the Kunpeng is huge, its nature is not excessive. Even the long-lived Dacong eventually dies; though lingzhi and mushrooms live only briefly, they have lived.
Those who do not understand this are easily misled by differences in the forms and lifespans of things. They envy long life and grieve over early death, pursue what they love and avoid what they dislike, and remain busy throughout their lives without being able to stop. Thus Liezi uses “Tang’s Questions” to discuss large and small, difference and sameness, vastness and minuteness, long and short, ultimately pointing toward the Great Dao.
This chapter includes the story of children arguing over whether the sun is farther away or nearer, a question Confucius could not settle. It also tells how, after Bian Que treated them, Gonghu and Qiying and their wives could no longer tell one another apart. In both cases, people are misled by changes in outward appearance and fail to see that things are fundamentally no different. Once we understand what they share, we see that wherever we go, all can return to unity.
The skill with which Pujiezi shot birds could also be used to catch fish. The art of shooting and fishing could also be applied to governing a state. Zheng Shiwen and Boya therefore mastered the playing of the qin, and Ziqi became skilled at listening to it. Fei Wei and Jichang became expert archers, while Zaofu excelled at driving. Yan the artisan’s making of puppets and Qin Qing’s skill at singing likewise drew on the same principle. If these people set aside the outward forms of their crafts and went on to grasp the Great Dao, who would think they could not do so?
The changes of all things cannot escape the workings of Yin and Yang, which is why the chapter ends with the story of Wei Hei Luan killing Qiu Bingzhang out of hostility and Lai Dan plotting to avenge his father. Yet the fact that all things differ is simply the nature of things. To bring all things into equality, one must understand the principle involved. If one ignores the changes in things and imagines oneself to have already made them equal, it is like covering one’s eyes and stopping one’s ears, then assuming that others cannot see or hear one. How, then, could one control the desires within the heart that ceaselessly chase after things? The chapter ends by showing the prince stubbornly clinging to his own view and judging things rashly precisely to make this point.
Commentary on the True Classic of the Perfected Virtue of Chongxu, end of Scroll Five and Scroll Six, written by Jiang Yu of the Song dynasty.
Effort and Destiny
Effort asked Destiny, “In what way are you more powerful than I am?”
Destiny replied, “What have you done for all things that makes you think you can compare yourself with me?”
Effort said, “The length of a person’s life, whether their circumstances are poor or prosperous, their status high or low, and their life rich or poor—all these are within my power.”
Destiny gave examples: Peng Zu was no wiser than Yao or Shun, yet lived for eight hundred years. Yan Yuan was no less talented than an ordinary person, yet lived only forty-eight years. Confucius was no less virtuous than the feudal lords, yet was trapped in Chen and Cai. The tyrant King Zhou of Yin was less virtuous than the three benevolent ministers of the Shang, yet occupied the throne. Ji Zha held no noble rank in Wu, while Tian Heng held all the power in Qi. Boyi and Shuqi starved to death on Mount Shouyang, while the Ji family were richer than Zhan Qin. If all this were determined by your effort, why do some live long while others die young? Why do sages suffer while treacherous ministers prosper, worthy people remain poor and lowly while fools grow rich, and good people live in poverty while the wicked grow wealthy?
Effort said, “By your account, I really cannot control all things. But why do things happen as they do? Did you arrange them?”
Destiny replied, “If it is called ‘destiny,’ how could there also be a ruler who arranges it? I simply let what is straight develop according to its nature and let what is crooked bear its own consequences. Long life or early death, poverty or success, high status or low, wealth or want—each happens as it does. How could I know the reasons?”
He repeated, “How could I know?”
Jiang Yu explains that “Effort” refers to what people do, while “Destiny” refers to Heaven’s arrangement. Effort is affected by destiny, and destiny is also expressed through human action, so it is not possible simply to decide which deserves more credit. Peng Zu’s long life and Yan Yuan’s early death may seem to have been determined by destiny, but not everyone could live as long as Peng Zu, and Yan Yuan’s talents did not necessarily lead to an early death. It is therefore mistaken to say that people’s actions have nothing to do with destiny, just as it is mistaken to say that everything is determined by destiny and has nothing to do with human action.
People often do not know why something happens, yet they see that it has happened. This is destiny. If destiny truly had an arranger, it could no longer be called destiny. The changes of all things unfold naturally, without any identifiable ruler. What is straight has the consequences of being straight; what is crooked has the consequences of being crooked. The same is true of long life and early death, poverty and success, high and low status, wealth and want. These cannot simply be attributed to Heaven, nor can they be attributed entirely to people. No one can fully understand their causes.
Since we do not know whether today’s good fortune comes from virtue accumulated in the past, or whether today’s virtue will become the source of good fortune in the future, there is no need to cling to the question of whether destiny exists. Those who truly understand destiny follow nature while still making the effort that is theirs to make. They do not fret over the length of life, nor let hardship or success change their state of mind. They are at ease with high and low status alike, and are not shaken by wealth or poverty. This is what the sages call “rejoicing in Heaven and knowing destiny,” and it is the central idea of the chapter “Effort and Destiny.”
Beigongzi and Ximenzi
Beigongzi said to Ximenzi, “You and I are of the same era. Our families are comparable, our ages similar, our appearances alike, and our speech and conduct much the same. We have similar prospects in government, farming, and business. Yet you have prospered, are respected and liked, live in comfort, and make profits in trade. I wear coarse clothes, eat rough food, live in a humble house, and go out on foot. You wear fine brocade, eat delicate meals, live in a grand house, and travel by carriage. At home, you seem to look down on me; at court, too, you wear an arrogant expression. We no longer visit or travel together, and this has gone on for many years. Do you think your virtue is greater than mine?”
Ximenzi replied, “I cannot know the reason for this with certainty either. Your affairs have led you into difficulty, while mine have brought me success. Perhaps this proves that our destinies differ in how much they bestow. You still claim our circumstances are comparable—have you no shame?”
Beigongzi could find no answer. Ashamed, he left with his head bowed. On the road he met Master Dongguo, who asked why he was walking alone with his head down and such a shamefaced look. Beigongzi told him what had happened.
Master Dongguo said, “I’ll relieve you of this shame, then go and ask Ximenzi about it.” He went to Ximenzi and asked whether he had deeply humiliated Beigongzi. Ximenzi explained his position. Master Dongguo said, “The difference you call ‘more’ or ‘less’ is a difference in talent and virtue. The difference I mean is another matter. Beigongzi has deep virtue but a meager destiny; you have a generous destiny but shallow virtue. Your success does not come from superior wisdom, and Beigongzi’s hardship does not come from foolishness or incompetence. Both are due to Heaven’s destiny, and cannot be wholly determined by human effort. Yet you boast because your destiny has favored you, while Beigongzi is ashamed because his virtue is deep but his circumstances are unfavorable. Neither of you understands how nature works.”
Ximenzi said, “You are right. I will not argue further.”
After returning home, Beigongzi continued to wear coarse clothes, eat rough food, and live in a humble house, but now regarded it as spacious and comfortable. When he went out on foot, it seemed to him like traveling in a splendid carriage. His mind was at ease, and he no longer treated honor and disgrace as things that belonged only to others or only to himself. When Master Dongguo heard of this, he said, “Beigongzi had been asleep for a long time. Now he has awakened with just one sentence. How easy it is!”
Jiang Yu interprets the names “Ximen” and “Beigong” through their directions. The western gate symbolizes the place where all things gather and decline, while the northern palace symbolizes the hidden depths where things lie concealed and vital energy is profound. Thus Ximenzi is described as having a generous destiny but shallow virtue, and Beigongzi as having deep virtue but a meager destiny. Master Dongguo could relieve Beigongzi’s shame because he understood the principles of natural change.
Destiny arises as things happen naturally; there is no visible arranger. Even sages such as Yao, Shun, Confucius, Boyi, and Shuqi could not freely change their circumstances. But once a person understands destiny, they can be at ease in their circumstances without being ruled by them. Sages may suffer hardship, the benevolent may die young, good people may be poor, and the worthy may hold low status, yet none of this need alter their integrity. Once Beigongzi understood this, he was no longer moved by honor or disgrace.
Guan Zhong, Bao Shuya, and Duke Huan of Qi
Guan Yiwu and Bao Shuya were close friends. When both were in Qi, Guan Yiwu served Prince Jiu, while Bao Shuya served Prince Xiaobai. Later, during a revolt in Qi, the two princes fled, one to Lu and the other to Ju. Guan Zhong once shot Xiaobai and struck the hook on his belt. After Xiaobai took the throne, he forced Lu to kill Prince Jiu. Shao Hu died for Prince Jiu, while Guan Zhong was imprisoned.
Bao Shuya recommended Guan Zhong to Duke Huan of Qi, saying that he had the ability to govern the state. Duke Huan said that Guan Zhong was his enemy and that he wanted to kill him. Bao Shuya urged him: “An enlightened ruler should not reject a capable person because of a private grievance. Someone who served his former lord with all his strength can serve a new ruler just as well. If Your Highness hopes to dominate the feudal lords, you cannot do so without Guan Yiwu. Please set aside your resentment.” Duke Huan then recalled Guan Zhong and gave him a position above the Gao and Guo families. Bao Shuya willingly placed himself below Guan Zhong, who was put in charge of state affairs and called “Uncle Zhong.” In time, Duke Huan achieved hegemony.
Guan Zhong once reflected, “When I was young and poor, I went into business with Bao Shuya. When we divided the profits, I often took more than my share. Bao Shu did not think me greedy, because he knew I was poor. I made plans for him, but they repeatedly ended in failure. Bao Shu did not think me foolish, because he knew that times can be favorable or unfavorable. I held office many times and was dismissed many times. Bao Shu did not think me incapable, because he knew I had not met with the right opportunity. I fought in many battles and retreated many times. Bao Shu did not think me cowardly, because he knew I had an aged mother. After Prince Jiu’s defeat, Shao Hu died for him, while I was imprisoned and humiliated. Bao Shu did not think me shameless, because he knew I was ashamed not of failing to observe the small courtesies of personal conduct, but of failing to make my name known throughout the world. My parents gave me life, but Bao Shu truly understood me.”
People therefore praise the deep friendship between Guan and Bao, and Duke Huan’s skill in employing capable people. Jiang Yu, however, argues that these events were not determined solely by human plans. When Guan Zhong shot Xiaobai, he had no intention of serving Xiaobai. After Duke Huan took the throne, he too wanted Guan Zhong dead. And although Bao Shu was Guan Zhong’s friend, he may not at the time have expected to recommend his former rival. Later, Guan Zhong was appointed and put his talents to work: he filled the granaries, clarified the rites, strengthened the state and its armies, and made Qi hegemon among the feudal lords. Confucius praised Guan Zhong, saying that without him the people might long ago have let their hair hang loose and worn their garments fastened on the left, like people of less civilized lands.
Guan Zhong did not cling to the small courtesies of personal conduct, and he did not die for Prince Jiu; later, however, he devoted himself to Qi. If Bao Shu had not recommended him and Duke Huan had not appointed him, Guan Zhong would have had no opportunity to use his abilities. Jiang Yu believes that each of these people acted as circumstances made necessary. When people act from public-mindedness, friendship can be preserved without deliberate effort to make it perfect; enmity can dissolve without deliberate effort to cast it aside; loyalty can become clear without being deliberately pursued. This, too, was fundamental to Duke Huan’s achievement of hegemony. Traced further back, the great virtue of emperors who govern all under Heaven can ultimately be understood as following nature and accomplishing things through Wuwei (non-action).
Guan Zhong on Bao Shuya and Xi Peng
When Guan Zhong was gravely ill, Duke Huan of Qi asked him, “If your illness becomes serious, whom should I entrust with governing the state?” Guan Zhong asked whom Duke Huan had in mind. Duke Huan said, “Would Bao Shuya do?”
Guan Zhong replied, “No. Bao Shuya is upright and a good man, but he does not befriend people who are not his equal. Once he hears of someone’s fault, he remembers it for the rest of his life. If he governed the state, he would constrain the ruler above him and oppose the people below him. He would soon offend the ruler.”
Duke Huan asked who would be suitable. Guan Zhong said, “If there is no other choice, Xi Peng could serve. When he is in a high position, he is not complacent; when he is in a low position, he does not provoke resentment or rebellion. He is ashamed that he falls short of the Yellow Emperor, and he feels compassion for those who fall short of him. He shares his virtue with others and may be called a sage; he shares his wealth with others and may be called a worthy man. It is difficult to win people’s hearts by placing your own excellence above theirs; it is easier to win their hearts by yielding to them. He does not meddle in the affairs of other states, nor pry into the affairs of other households. If there is no other choice, Xi Peng may be appointed.”
Jiang Yu explains that Xi Peng’s lack of complacency would make government orders lenient, while his ability not to provoke resentment or rebellion would help the people remain simple and sincere. He could use virtue to help people return to their nature, and wealth to help them meet their needs. This is what distinguished Xi Peng, who could govern the state, from Bao Shuya, who could not. Changes in the closeness or distance between people have their own just principles and natural tendencies; they are not wholly determined by individual will. Guan Zhong, Bao Shuya, and Xi Peng could all set aside private interests, enabling Qi to honor the Zhou house and strengthen its power.
Zichan and Deng Xi
Deng Xi was skilled at making arguments that could be defended from either side, and he could keep arguing without pause. When Zichan governed Zheng, Deng Xi drafted bamboo laws, which Zheng adopted. Deng Xi repeatedly criticized Zichan’s government and at times persuaded him and defeated him in argument. Later, Zichan arrested and executed Deng Xi. It seems that Zichan’s adoption of the bamboo laws, his being bested by Deng Xi, and Deng Xi’s execution by Zichan could not have been decided by personal will alone. Each was driven by circumstances that made it unavoidable.
Jiang Yu says that after Zichan had governed Zheng for three years, the good came to follow him and the wicked changed their ways. Yet Deng Xi was still able to defeat him in argument many times. Zheng adopted Deng Xi’s bamboo laws, but Zichan later executed him. These events are difficult to explain solely through personal ability and intention. Emperor Wen of Han abolished corporal punishment after receiving a petition from Tiying, but later no one was able to restore it. That, too, is similar. The book Liezi is concerned with explaining principles, so there is no need to be bound by small details or discrepancies with other accounts.
Life, Death, and Nature
To live when one can live, and die when one can die, is a blessing from Heaven. To be unable to live when one ought to live, or unable to die when one ought to die, is a punishment from Heaven. When it is possible to live or die, there is a regular order by which life and death are obtained. When one lives or dies contrary to what should happen, there is also the change of unforeseen circumstance. Yet life and death are determined neither entirely by external things nor entirely by the self. Both are matters of destiny, over which even wisdom has no power.
The commentary uses the “Five Blessings” and “Six Extremes” from the Book of Documents, “Great Plan,” to explain this. Health, long life, and virtue belong to blessings; a short life, calamity, grief, and poverty belong to misfortune. Ordinary death and unexpected change may differ, but life and death themselves are not things wisdom can fully control. Once this is understood, life and death no longer disturb the mind.
Thus it is said: the profound and boundless Way of Heaven moves of itself; vast and undivided, it is by Heaven’s destiny that all things arise naturally. Heaven and Earth cannot violate nature; the wisdom of sages cannot force nature to change; ghosts and spirits cannot deceive nature either. Nature silently brings all things to completion, making them stable and peaceful. All things come with it and depart with it. Such, in broad terms, is the working of destiny.
Ji Liang Falls Ill
Yang Zhu had a friend named Ji Liang, who fell ill. After seven days, his condition grew worse. His family gathered around him, weeping, and called for a doctor. Ji Liang said to Yang Zhu, “My son understands so little of the Way. Why don’t you sing him a song to enlighten him?”
Yang Zhu sang: “If Heaven does not know, how can people perceive it? Heaven neither protects us nor brings us calamity; things arise from people. Is it I or you who does not know? Or do the doctor and the shaman know?”
Ji Liang’s son still did not understand, and in the end he called in three doctors to treat his father. The first, named Jiao, said, “Your cold and heat are out of balance, and your excess and deficiency are out of proportion. Your illness comes from too much or too little food, sexual desire, excessive thought, and accumulated distress. It was caused neither by Heaven nor by ghosts. Though the illness has grown more serious, it can still be treated.” Ji Liang said, “He is an ordinary doctor. Get rid of him at once.”
The second, named Yu, said, “Your vital energy was weak from the time you were in the womb, but you were given too much milk. This illness did not form in a single day. Its cause has gradually accumulated, and it cannot be cured.” Ji Liang said, “He is a good doctor. Give him a meal.”
The third, named Lu, said, “Your illness was caused neither by Heaven, nor by people, nor by ghosts. Once people are born and their bodies take shape, life already has its own limits and its own patterns of change. What can medicine do to you?” Ji Liang said, “He is a divine doctor.” He gave Lu a generous gift and sent him away. Before long, Ji Liang’s illness went away on its own.
Jiang Yu explains that Jiao believed illness could be corrected through treatment after birth; Yu believed that its roots had formed long ago and could not be undone; Lu understood illness through the natural patterns of life, which had been set from the beginning of its formation. His view treats life and death as one, and is the most profound. Ji Liang could face life and death so calmly that even when he was gravely ill, Yang Zhu merely came to his door and sang.
Life is not necessarily preserved because another person considers it precious or cherishes it, and the body is not necessarily better cared for because another person values it. In the same way, being scorned does not necessarily shorten a person’s life or harm them. It may seem contrary to expectation that someone who is cherished dies young while someone who is looked down on lives long. In truth, life and death, fortune and misfortune, each have their own natural conditions. Conversely, if someone lives long while being cherished, or dies young while being despised, that may seem as things ought to be, but such outcomes are no more determined by those outward attitudes.
Life and the body are forms temporarily entrusted to us by Heaven and Earth. If even the natural changes of Heaven and Earth cannot be freely defied, how much less can another person’s judgments of status, affection, or resentment determine someone’s survival or strength? In speaking of these matters, Liezi seeks to dispel the confusion of people who crave life so much that they lose their sense of what is right, or pursue profit at the cost of their bodies. Even those who value life and cherish their bodies should not think they can arrange life and death as they please.
Long Life, Short Life, and Heaven’s Intentions
Yu Xiong said to King Wen of Zhou, “The long life granted by Heaven cannot be lengthened further, and the short life granted by Heaven cannot be shortened. What can human schemes do about it?”
Laozi said to Guanyin, “Who can know why Heaven abhors something? Rather than guessing at Heaven’s intentions and calculating gains and losses, it is better to stop such speculation.”
The legs of long-lived and short-lived creatures are like the legs of a wild duck and a crane: they cannot be shortened or lengthened at will. Before a person is born, life already has its natural conditions, and wisdom has no power over them. What people detest may have its own cause, but it cannot necessarily be understood at once from what is visible before us. If we persist in using wisdom to guess at Heaven’s intentions and calculate gains and losses, we will instead exhaust our spirit and make reckless judgments. That is why Laozi advised Guanyin to stop speculating.
Yang Bu Asks About Destiny
Yang Bu asked, “Two people may be close in age and family background, and alike in speech, ability, and appearance. Yet their life spans, status, reputation, and the affection or dislike they receive may differ greatly. This puzzles me.”
Yang Zhu said, “There is an old saying that I once remembered, and it suits your question: not knowing why things are as they are, yet finding that they are so—this is destiny. Today, all things are obscure, confused, and disorderly. Some events follow from our actions, while others do not. One day passes and another arrives. Who can know the reasons? It is all destiny.”
Jiang Yu says that people have an inborn nature, while destiny comes from nature itself. Human nature can be cultivated and should not be neglected; destiny can be accepted but cannot be forced. A gentleman cultivates himself according to established principles and then awaits what destiny brings. He should not try to exchange his virtue for some particular blessing. Yang Zhu compares people one by one in age, virtue, ability, and appearance, then calculates the differences in longevity, status, reputation, and affection or dislike. He uses one confusion to explain another. Events are confused and obscure; wisdom cannot see through them completely, and reason cannot sort them out one by one. Some follow from people’s actions, while others are not determined by those actions. Who can know their fundamental causes? This is the mystery of creation bringing forth all things.
Forgetting Gain and Loss
Those who trust destiny do not cling to the difference between long life and early death. Those who trust principle are not trapped by right and wrong. Those who trust the heart are not pulled along by favorable and unfavorable circumstances. Those who trust their nature do not change with safety or danger. Such people neither cling to belief in one particular thing nor insist on disbelieving everything; only then can they be truly honest and steadfast. They do not deliberately seek things out or deliberately avoid them. They are not moved by sorrow or joy, and do not cling to either action or inaction.
To say that one does not cling to long life or early death, right or wrong, favorable or unfavorable circumstances, safety or danger, is not to say these things do not exist. It means not claiming them as one’s own. Yan Yuan died young, while Zhi lived a long life. Those who know destiny do not confuse “long life” with “early death,” but let each unfold naturally amid the differences between life and death. The same is true of right and wrong, favorable and unfavorable circumstances, safety and danger. Those who truly do not cling do not divide things into two sides, one to pursue and the other to reject. They can therefore be free from sorrow and joy, do what needs to be done, and not force an outcome.
The Actions of the Perfected Person
The Book of the Yellow Emperor says: “When the Perfected Person sits still, he is like a corpse; when he moves, he is like a mechanism starting up. He does not know why he sits still, nor why he does not sit still; he does not know why he acts, nor why he does not act. When people see him, they may take his manner as a change; he himself does not change his manner because they are watching. He comes and goes alone, entering and leaving—who can obstruct him?”
“To sit still like a corpse” means that the mind undertakes nothing deliberately and settles into stillness of its own accord. “To move like a mechanism” means that he moves in response to external things, rather than being driven by private intention. The Perfected Person moves when movement is called for and stops when stopping is called for. He does not cling to movement or stillness, and so is not controlled by other people’s attention or judgment. Ordinary people, however, are driven by notions of honor and disgrace. Afraid of power, punishment, ghosts and spirits, and other people’s opinions, they are anxious in mind and seem physically bound. They spend their lives in ceaseless activity until life itself is over. If they recognize their true selves, they need not change their original nature because of whether others watch them or how they see them. The Perfected Person does not depart from his true nature; ordinary people simply fail to understand this, and the reason lies within themselves.
The Many Ways People Conduct Themselves
Mo Chi, Dan Zhi, Tan Xuan, and Bi Fu lived together. Each was content with the others, but none truly understood the others throughout his life; each thought his own wisdom profound. Qiao Ning, Yu Zhi, Yan Zhuo, and Bian Pi also lived together, each following his own inclinations. They never discussed their different methods and each thought his own skill exquisite. Fang Fang, Qing Lu, Guang Ji, and Ling Sui lived together without ever understanding one another, yet each believed he had achieved something through his talents. Mian Yan, Zhui Wei, Yong Gan, and Qie Yi lived together for their whole lives without blaming one another, each convinced that his own conduct was faultless. Duo Ou, Zi Zhuan, Cheng Quan, and Mang Li lived together without paying attention to one another, each believing he had encountered the circumstances best suited to him.
These are common ways people conduct themselves in the world. Their outward forms differ, but all come from the Great Dao and return to destiny.
Jiang Yu says these names sum up differences in people’s emotions, skills, abilities, conduct, and circumstances. Some are fearful or arrogant; some slow or rash. Some are clever and self-serving, while others are simple and upright. Some talk at length but say little of substance; others are quiet or skilled at debate. Some are brave, others suspicious. Some follow the crowd, some act on their own authority, some use their power to pressure others, and some show off their strength alone. As society gradually departs from simple nature, people rush about among interests, harms, rights, and wrongs, and their ways of behaving multiply.
Everyone is convinced that their own ideas are right and others’ ideas are wrong. Each follows their own inclinations throughout life, yet they cannot truly understand one another. Their different ways and circumstances ultimately return to life and destiny. But although they all return to destiny, they may not know destiny; although they arise from the Great Dao, they may not experience it. Clinging only to one’s own views and forgetting the principles shared by all under Heaven is like the legendary Kui, snake, wind, and eye, each envying the others without understanding them. Those who truly embody the Dao and understand destiny are settled within. They are not constrained by cleverness, talent, or outward appearance, and can live freely. From this state of mind, the disputes of ordinary people are bound to seem poignant.
Signs of Success and Failure
What appears to succeed may only resemble success, and not truly be success; what appears to fail may only resemble failure, and not truly be failure. People are therefore often confused where truth and falsehood are hard to distinguish. If they can see the signs clearly, they will not be frightened by calamity from outside or delighted by immediate gain. They will act when it is time to act and stop when it is time to stop, though wisdom may still be unable to explain the reasons completely.
The natural tendency toward success or failure is already present before it becomes visible. Yet people often grow confused just as an event is about to succeed or fail. Seeing that success is near, they cannot be sure it will truly come, and fear losing it at any moment. Seeing failure, they refuse to admit it has happened and still hope to gain something. As a result, they are frightened when misfortune arrives and delighted when good fortune comes. If they can see the signs of change, they let success succeed naturally and failure fail naturally. Calamity and blessing come and go like the alternation of day and night, or the turning of the seasons, so there is no need to be troubled or pleased by them. This brings one close to the Dao; even life and death then cannot easily shake the mind.
Knowing Destiny and Accepting the Times
Those who trust destiny make no distinction between themselves and others. If they rank themselves above others, they might as well cover their eyes and block their ears: even if they carried a mountain on their backs and stood facing a deep pit, they might still not fall. Thus life and death are matters of destiny, while poverty and hardship are determined by the times. Those who resent an early death do not understand destiny; those who resent poverty do not understand the times. To be near death without fear, and in hardship without sorrow, is to understand destiny and accept the times.
Jiang Yu takes Shang Qiu Kai as an example. He once believed that external things could not harm him because his mind was single-minded. Those who trust destiny likewise do not divide themselves from others within their hearts. Clinging to the self creates opposition, likes and dislikes, sorrow and joy. Even without actually standing at the edge of a cliff, one is often afraid of falling. The call to cover one’s eyes and block one’s ears does not mean literally abandoning sight and hearing. It means that if one is not pulled along by external things, one can remain undaunted by fear even in dangerous circumstances. Thus those who understand destiny and accept the times do not fear death or grieve in hardship.
Wisdom and Lack of Wisdom
Clever people weigh gains against losses, judge what is true and false, and infer other people’s feelings. Sometimes they judge correctly, and sometimes they are mistaken. Less clever people do not weigh gains and losses, judge what is true and false, or infer other people’s feelings. Sometimes they happen to benefit, and sometimes they suffer loss. What essential difference is there between weighing and not weighing, speculating and not speculating, judging and not judging? Only those who neither cling to weighing things nor deliberately refuse to weigh them can preserve themselves and avoid being harmed by gain or loss. This does not mean deliberately seeking self-preservation or fearing loss, but simply letting things follow their nature.
Jiang Yu explains that both clever and less clever people may judge wrongly or succeed by chance. This is no reason to discard wisdom, nor to cling to folly. The key is to use wisdom without being ruled by it, and to make judgments without relying on them to boast of one’s discernment. In this way, one is not controlled by gain and loss.
Duke Jing of Qi Climbs Ox Mountain
Duke Jing of Qi was visiting Ox Mountain. Facing his capital, he wept and said, “How beautiful this country is, its trees and grasses so lush! How could I bear to leave it and die? If people had never died since ancient times, I could guard this country forever.”
Shi Kong and Liangqiu Ju wept along with him, saying, “We eat good meat and ride in fine carriages thanks to our lord’s generosity. Even we do not want to die—how much less would our lord!”
Only Yan Zi laughed. Duke Jing wiped away his tears and asked why he alone was laughing. Yan Zi replied, “If wise rulers could guard this country forever, the Duke of Zhou and Duke Huan would have stayed here forever long ago. If brave rulers could guard it forever, Duke Zhuang and Duke Min would have remained here too. Those rulers have already gone one after another, and now it is your turn. If you wore a rain cape and a bamboo hat and worked in the fields, with all your thoughts fixed on the affairs of state, would you still think about death? A ruler’s position is something people receive and leave in turn. You alone weep over this. That is unbenevolent. I see an unbenevolent ruler and flattering ministers, so I cannot help laughing.”
Duke Jing felt ashamed. He raised his cup and fined himself a drink, then fined each of the two ministers who had echoed him two cups. Jiang Yu says that the drinking penalty was a way of making up for a weakness of spirit. Duke Jing coveted outward splendor and wanted to possess it forever, which was impossible, so he wept. On hearing Yan Zi’s words, he realized that he lacked self-cultivation, and so fined himself and the flattering ministers.
Dongmen Wu Does Not Grieve for His Son
A man named Dongmen Wu lived in the state of Wei. When his son died, he did not grieve. A household attendant asked, “You loved your son so deeply that few could match you. Now he has died. Why are you not sorrowful?” Dongmen Wu said, “Before I had a son, I was not sorrowful. Now that my son has died, I have simply returned to the state of having no son. What is there for me to grieve about?”
Jiang Yu thinks that people have both a human form and human feelings. Only people in antiquity could forget their feelings. If an ordinary person feels no grief at all, it may simply mean their feelings are weaker than other people’s. Confucius himself grieved when Yan Yuan died, saying, “If I did not grieve for this person, whom could I grieve for?” He had not truly forgotten his feelings. So it is worth asking whether Dongmen Wu’s lack of grief after his son’s death can really be called freedom from feeling.
Farmers, Merchants, Artisans, Officials, and the Times
Farmers work their fields according to the seasons, merchants pursue profit, artisans pursue skill, and officials pursue power. These are their respective actions. But farmers encounter floods and droughts, merchants gain and lose, artisans succeed and fail, and officials prosper or lose favor. These, in turn, are determined by destiny and the times.
Jiang Yu says that the chapter “Effort and Destiny” explains that all things are affected by destiny, but does not therefore advocate giving up human effort and attributing everything to destiny. Its point is that human action and destiny must both be recognized, each unfolding naturally without being neglected.
The Main Idea of the Whole Chapter
Jiang Yu believes that Mencius distinguished between “nature” and “destiny.” Benevolence, righteousness, ritual propriety, and wisdom belong to human nature. Although they are inborn, they still require effort after birth, so a gentleman does not simply attribute them to destiny. Smell, taste, hearing, and sight also belong to human nature, but people are endowed with them in different degrees and are affected by destiny. They cannot therefore be treated simply as aspects of nature that everyone can control for themselves.
Human nature can be cultivated; destiny cannot be forcibly changed. Yet Heaven’s destiny must also become manifest through human action. Longevity and early death, poverty and success, high and low status, wealth and want all relate to this. The chapter “Effort and Destiny” therefore neither attributes everything to human effort nor advocates giving up effort and leaving everything to destiny. The key is not to be burdened by longevity or early death, high or low status, wealth or poverty, hardship or success. One cultivates oneself while following destiny.
Even a sage such as Confucius was expelled from Lu and trapped in Chen and Cai. Throughout his life, he was never able fully to realize his ambitions under a ruler’s patronage. He left behind writings but could not put his political ideals into practice. This may be called destiny. Confucius still cultivated himself and accepted changes between hardship and success. He understood that staying or leaving was not up to him, and so remained joyful whether in hardship or prosperity. What he took joy in was not hardship or prosperity itself, but being at peace with Heaven’s destiny.
Ordinary people, however, often fixate on what they have not yet achieved and complain that destiny is unfair, without understanding that things happen naturally as they do. Bao Shuya first treated Guan Zhong generously, yet Guan Zhong later did not put Bao Shuya forward to govern the state. Guan Zhong did not value Xi Peng at first, but later recommended him. Deng Xi once bested Zichan, but Zichan later used Deng Xi’s bamboo laws and executed him. Each of these events had circumstances that made it unavoidable; they were not arranged entirely by the wisdom people thought they possessed.
Ji Liang could face life and death calmly, while Duke Jing of Qi could not let go even of the splendor before his eyes. Their understanding of destiny differed in depth. Beigongzi was once ashamed that his circumstances were worse than Ximenzi’s, but after understanding the principle, he no longer cared about honor or disgrace. This shows that whether destiny can rule a person also depends on whether that person understands destiny. The conclusion of the whole chapter is this: human effort cannot be abandoned, and destiny cannot be forced. Those who understand destiny cultivate themselves and act without clinging to outcomes. They follow nature and remain at ease amid hardship and success, life and death, wealth and poverty, high and low status.
The “Yang Zhu” chapter focuses on Yang Zhu’s views on nourishing life, fame and profit, life and death, and governing the world. Human life is short, and fame and wealth do not necessarily bring true happiness. If people wear down their bodies and minds in pursuit of them, they cannot live freely, while the empty reputation they leave behind after death does them no good.
Yang Zhu holds that the ancients understood how brief life is and acted in accord with their nature. They were not driven by empty fame and did not worry about their reputation after death. Whether wise or foolish, noble or lowly, everyone eventually dies; all alike decay and disappear. We should therefore recognize the natural changes of life and death, rather than busy ourselves with our posthumous reputation.
Bo Yi and Shu Qi were renowned for their integrity and fidelity, yet they starved to death. Yuan Xian lived in poverty, while Zigong amassed wealth; each suffered in a different way. The key to nourishing life lies neither in extreme poverty nor in hoarding riches, but in being content with one’s circumstances and keeping body and mind at ease. Here, “rejoicing in life” means settling into life, while “keeping the body at ease” means freeing it from toil.
When Guan Zhong answered Yan Pingzhong’s question about nourishing life, he said that the ears, eyes, nose, mouth, body, and mind should be allowed to follow their natural inclinations rather than have their nature suppressed. The term “indulgence” in this chapter means freedom from the constraints of artificial fame, profit, and fear; it does not mean indulging in sensual pleasures or letting desires run unchecked. Liezi’s commentary uses this point to explain that true cultivation of life lies in inner freedom. Even if life is short, one need not fear whether one lives long or not, provided one can live this way. As for what happens to the body after death—whether it is burned, sunk in water, buried, or left in the wilderness—this can be decided according to the circumstances, since after death such matters are no longer within one’s control.
Zichan governed well, yet he could not change his elder brother Gongsun Chao’s fondness for wine or his younger brother Gongsun Mu’s love of sex. Chao and Mu believed life was rare and should be enjoyed while it lasted; they would not restrain themselves for the sake of ritual propriety or reputation. Deng Xi later argued that Zichan’s success in governing was merely a matter of chance. The chapter uses this story to consider “governing the outer” and “governing the inner”: focusing only on public achievements and rules of propriety may leave one’s body and mind suffering, while settling the inner self is the way to nourish life.
Duanmu Shu of Wei inherited a family fortune and enjoyed it freely, giving wealth to his clan, his community, and the people of the state. In his later years he gave away his entire estate and left nothing for his descendants. Some thought him reckless, while others considered him wise and open-minded. The commentary says that Zigong wore himself out accumulating wealth as a long-term provision for his descendants, whereas Duanmu Shu was not burdened by riches: he enjoyed life while alive and did not let wealth continue to bind his descendants after his death.
Yang Zhu says that people cannot gain eternal life merely by cherishing their bodies, nor can they decide when they will die. Since life and death are beyond human control, there is no need to insist on living a long time or to hurry toward death. While alive, one should follow one’s natural inclinations; when death comes, one should accept the change.
Yang Zhu also discusses Bocheng Zigao, who withdrew from public life to farm, and Yu the Great, who exhausted himself controlling the floods. He argues that people should neither harm themselves for the sake of the world nor harm the world for their own sake. If no one harms others or demands that others provide for them, the world will naturally be at peace. Qinzi challenges Yang Zhu with the example of plucking out a single hair in exchange for saving the world. Mengsun Yang then explains that the body is made up of minute parts, and that treating even a single hair as negligible may gradually lead to harm to oneself. The commentary clarifies that Yang Zhu is not claiming that one hair could save the world; he is opposing the pursuit of external things at the expense of preserving oneself.
Yang Zhu also compares Shun, Yu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius with Jie and Zhou: the former labored anxiously for the world, while the latter gave themselves over to pleasure. Yet after death, none could perceive either the good or bad reputation they had earned. The chapter thus cautions people against being burdened by praise or blame from later generations. The commentary adds that sages who respond to the times and shoulder the people’s troubles are different from those who deliberately chase empty fame.
On governing the world, Yang Zhu says that great matters require grasping the essentials; there is no need to personally attend to every detail. If one tries to govern through a mass of trivial tasks, one may fail even to manage a household or a garden. When speaking of events in ancient and modern times, he also says that the more distant the age, the harder it is to know what truly happened. People’s good or bad deeds and reputations eventually fade, so there is no reason to worry over momentary judgments.
The chapter concludes by discussing human life and external things. The human body is weaker than that of animals and must rely on external things for sustenance. Yet this does not give people the right to claim all the world’s resources as their own, or to treat their bodies as private possessions. The Perfect Person sees the self and all things as interconnected and no longer clings to possession. People are often burdened by the pursuit of longevity, fame, status, and wealth, and by fear of spirits, other people, the powerful, and punishment. To follow nature is to desire none of these things and to remain free from the control of external forces.
As the saying goes, “If someone is deprived of marriage, official position, or sexual desire, they will be grieved and exhausted, rushing anxiously through life. How could they ever find a moment’s peace?” People’s four desires are often impossible to satisfy all at once. If even one remains unmet, a person may spend a lifetime striving without fulfilling their wishes. How much harder, then, for someone who wants all four and insists on pursuing them?
Another saying goes, “People cannot do without marriage, official position, and sexual desire. Without food and clothing, the relationship between ruler and minister cannot be sustained.” A proverb from the state of Zhou says, “A farmer in the fields might even die of exhaustion while sitting down.” Farmers rise early and return late, having come to regard this way of life as ordinary. They eat bean leaves and wild greens and find them delicious. Their muscles are strong and their bones and sinews sturdy. If they were suddenly given soft blankets and silk curtains for their beds, then served fine dishes and delicacies such as orchids and tangerines, they would instead feel unsettled in spirit and uncomfortable in body, and might even fall ill. If the rulers of the states of Shang and Lu had to live alongside farmers, they would probably be worn out in less than a day. Thus, what country folk find comfortable and pleasant seems to them the finest thing in the world.
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This shows that people’s ordinary inclinations often make it hard for them to adapt to plain food, while rich meals are easy to get used to. People may think certain ways of life are easy to adjust to, yet they may not truly be able to adapt to the life farmers are content with. Habit changes people; it cannot be reversed all at once. How much less can those who are immersed in external things and content with worldly learning readily break their old habits and come to regard another way of life as the finest in the world?
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People find it hard to get used to coarse greens and wild vegetables, yet readily enjoy rich, refined foods. They doubt what is easy to do, though they may not be able to live contentedly within their means, as an old farmer in the fields does. Habit changes people, and it cannot be cast off all at once. How much less likely are people to change their habits immediately when they are absorbed in external things and settled in worldly doctrines, yet are expected to accept the utmost Dao without hesitation? No wonder those who have never considered this think the utmost Dao is far away.
Long ago, a farmer in the state of Song usually spent the winter wearing coarse hemp clothing. When spring came and farm work grew busy, he would bask in the sun, unaware that the world held spacious, warm houses and padded garments, fox furs, and raccoon-dog furs. He said to his wife, “Basking in the sun is so warm. Other people don’t know about it. If we present this method to our ruler, we’re sure to receive a great reward.”
A wealthy man from the village told him, “Once there was someone who thought beans, hemp stalks, celery, and duckweed seeds were delicious, and praised them to the rich and powerful people of his village. They tried them, but their mouths tingled and their stomachs felt uncomfortable. Everyone laughed at him, and he came to resent them. You are just like him.”
The farmer in coarse hemp clothing did not know the warmth of spacious houses and fur garments. The person who praised beans, hemp stalks, celery, and duckweed seeds did not know the taste of fine food. It is the same with those who find warmth and comfort only in what they know, without knowing that the Dao can encompass all things. They delight in worldly flavors without knowing that the Dao’s blandness is just as it should be.
Yang Zhu said, “If you already have a spacious house, fine clothes, delicious food, and beautiful women, what more would you seek outside yourself? To possess these things and still keep seeking outward is a nature that is never satisfied. Such greed harms the life-giving vitality of Heaven, Earth, and all things.”
Spacious houses, fine clothes, rich food, and beauty are all external things. If one devotes oneself to pursuing them, one is insatiably greedy. Why must one pursue something else as well before being called greedy? Mencius regarded the colors that delight the eyes, the sounds that delight the ears, the scents that delight the nose, and the comfort that delights the limbs as part of human nature. Liezi advocated following one’s nature and finding ease and joy, and opposed disguising one’s feelings and nature to win empty fame. So if one already enjoys these things and still pursues more, one harms the life-giving vitality of Heaven and Earth. To say “already have these four things” can mean that one is well off enough to enjoy them. If one must pursue them before obtaining them, how could one be any less insatiable?
If loyalty cannot bring peace to a ruler and instead puts oneself in danger, or if acting righteously cannot benefit all things and instead harms life, then neither serves its purpose. To bring stability to a ruler through the Dao, one need not advertise one’s loyalty; otherwise, even the reputation of a loyal minister may be damaged. To benefit all things, one need not advertise one’s righteous conduct; otherwise, the name of righteousness itself may be lost. When ruler and minister are both secure, and both oneself and external things benefit, that is the Dao of the ancients.
If loyalty means offending a ruler without regard for the consequences, it may bring disaster upon oneself. If righteous conduct becomes harsh, it may provoke a response from the unscrupulous. By serving a ruler in accordance with the Dao, one can preserve one’s good name while the ruler’s reputation is enhanced. Is that not a way for both ruler and minister to be secure? By responding to external things in accordance with the Dao, one can remain in Wuwei, while the people are naturally transformed. Is that not a way for both oneself and external things to benefit? Laozi said, “Only when the Great Dao is abandoned do we find benevolence and righteousness; only when the state is in turmoil do we find loyal ministers.” This is the same idea.
Yuzi said, “Cast off reputation, and you will have no worries.” Laozi said, “Reputation is a guest of substance.” Yet people in the world busily pursue reputation. Can it really be cast off, or treated merely as a guest? With a reputation, people may be honored and enjoy glory; without one, they may be brought low and suffer humiliation. Glory brings ease and pleasure, while humiliation brings distress and pain. Distress goes against human nature, while ease and pleasure accord with it. These things are bound up with practical life, so how could reputation be cast off entirely, or treated as an insignificant guest? What should truly be rejected is clinging to reputation until it harms practical life. If one clings to reputation and injures what is real, even to the point of being unable to avert imminent ruin, the problem goes far beyond ease and distress.
When Yuzi speaks of “casting off reputation,” he does not mean having no reputation at all, but not clinging to it. When Laozi speaks of “treating reputation as a guest,” he does not mean abandoning it, but refusing to let it rule. Since people are alive, they have bodies; having bodies, they are entangled with external things. People and external things affect one another, and their dealings often involve reputation, which in turn bears on practical life. A person’s suffering and joy are often tied to reputation, so how could reputation be eliminated in every case? Those who busy themselves pursuing empty fame often lose both name and substance as a result. In pursuit of a reputation for benevolence, some have even lost their lives; in pursuit of a reputation for righteousness, some have even harmed their relatives. Jie Zitui died for the name of loyalty, and Weisheng died for the name of trustworthiness. Both clung to reputation at the cost of what was real, and failed to avert disaster. In this chapter, Liezi repeatedly explains the relation between name and substance. He also feared that readers might suppose his teaching required the complete eradication of reputation from the world, so he clarified that what he rejected was clinging to reputation in a way that harms what is real. To avoid clinging to reputation while also preserving what is real is to embody Yuzi’s teaching on casting off reputation, Zhuangzi’s teaching on treating reputation as a guest, and the sage’s teaching on being without a name. It is also the way to establish oneself, conduct oneself in the world, and respond to all things.
Yang Zhu used passages from Liezi’s classic to explain the essentials of the Great Dao. What he transmitted was the orthodox tradition of the Yellow Emperor, Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen, King Wu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius. Some regard Yang Zhu’s doctrine of “working for oneself” as heretical, claiming that it misleads the people and harms the way of the sages. In later generations, those who aspired to honor the sages treated the ability to refute Yang Zhu and Mozi as a mark of being a disciple of the sages. Yet Liezi took “riding the external” as his central teaching: mastering external things and avoiding harm. He, too, was upholding the way of the ancient sages. Since Liezi often quoted Yang Zhu and Mozi to instruct the world, and even placed Confucius and Mozi together as people whom everyone under Heaven wished to see secure and benefit, does his decision to devote a whole chapter to Yang Zhu’s teaching mean that he believed Yang Zhu’s way did not conflict with the sages and could be taught to everyone? If Yang Zhu’s doctrine blocked the way of benevolence and righteousness, why would Liezi have adopted any of his words? We can infer Liezi’s intention: Yang Zhu spoke of “working for oneself,” while Liezi grieved that people pursue external things and lose themselves, unaware that they should preserve their own person. In a lifetime, people pursue longevity, reputation, status, and wealth, yet none of these truly benefits them. Even after death, they hope to leave benefits for their descendants. But descendants are merely part of the transformations of Heaven and Earth. What have they to do with oneself?
People are therefore careful about what they see and hear, weigh right and wrong, and use rewards and punishments to regulate their advances and retreats. They toil all their lives as if bound in chains, without realizing that the generative power of transformation brought them to life precisely so that they might exist. If so, they should know to cherish themselves and not lose themselves. Why exhaust the body and torment the mind in the effort to obtain what others obtain and enjoy what others enjoy, only to lose one’s true self? We can see from this that Liezi did not want everyone under Heaven to follow Yang Zhu’s heretical doctrine. He wanted people to avoid being ruled by external things and to understand how to preserve themselves. If people can avoid losing themselves, then use this cultivation to govern a state and extend it to the whole world, many beneficial results will arise naturally.
Liezi’s teaching, however, is subtle and profound. His book takes “utmost emptiness” as its foundation, holding that all things ultimately return to nothingness. It also brings questions of life and death, existence and extinction, back to this same principle. For this reason, he selected the most controversial parts of Yang Zhu’s teaching and discussed them together with the way of the sages, hoping that students would not merely follow the traces of the sages’ words and deeds, but would understand the sages’ innermost intent.
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