《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 22

Toes grown webbed between them and extra fingers on the hand truly arise from human nature and physical form. Redundant fleshy growths on the skin and hanging warts likewise spring from the body, yet they exceed the normal pattern. In the same way, the names and practices of ren (humaneness) and yi (righteousness) are many; when people deliberately apply them and lodge them among the affections governed by the five viscera, that is not the original right path of De (Virtue/Power).

Thus connected toes mean an extra, useless piece of flesh on the foot; branching fingers mean redundant digits on the hand. The affections assigned to the five viscera each have their proper domain. If one over-pursues the practice of ren and yi and overuses cleverness and talent, one turns perverse.

Guo Xiang comments: Webbed toes and branching fingers both come from physical form and innate nature; nothing external forces them. Whether toes are connected or not, each nature is complete in itself. Connected or branched cases simply appear to add something extra, hence they are called “excess.” Some hold that because these parts are abnormal they should be cut away and discarded. But to do so is to treat the Dao as deficient and De as incomplete. The human body has parts that do not serve use; among the myriad things there are what seem useless—does that mean governance has reached its utmost?

Great and small, capable and less capable differ among the myriad things. What counts as “extra” is only relative to some measure; surplus forms and parts vary from thing to thing. If one does not follow each thing’s own condition but discards them uniformly, one abandons the nature of all things. Those who merge with the myriad things do not fixate on “more” or “less.” The names of ren and yi are many; though they are listed among the affections of the five viscera, they remain only what one school calls the right path. They cannot yet accord with each thing’s different way so that all preserve their nature and fulfill their lot.

More and less have no absolute fixed boundary, yet each kind of thing has its own allotment; there is no need to compare with others. When each keeps its place, all can be content. Hearing that “more” cannot regulate “less,” some wish to discard the much and keep only the little—that is to discard the myriad things of the world, which is absurd. Webbed toes and branching fingers are simply how life is formed, not shaped for some utility. The affections of the five viscera each have their richness; if someone exalts certain affections and over-pursues ren and yi, he turns perverse and excessive and violates the body’s inner fitness.

Human cleverness and talent each have their proper share; using much is not surplus, using little is not lack. Yet once desire is stirred, people often scorn the little and prize the much. If one can cease clinging to what one prizes and hold to one’s original measure, one will not feel nature has anything redundant, and diverse endowments can each be preserved.

Growths such as webbed fingers, supernumerary digits, flesh tumors, and warts on the hands and feet are part of the physical form, yet they do not belong to innate nature (xing) as it truly is. When people add to nature what was never originally there—layering the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), the five constants, the five affairs, and the five viscera, and then elaborating benevolence and righteousness (renyi) from every angle and putting them into practice—these too may be “listed” within the five viscera of the person, but if they do not accord with the inherent Dao and De (Virtue/Power), they remain what was never there in the first place. Thus extra digits on the feet or hands are of no use; the inherent Dao and De are nothing but Wuwei (non-action) and return to pure oneness.

Lin Yidu comments: Webbed and supernumerary fingers arise together with the bodily form, from innate nature; flesh tumors and warts attach to the form and grow from outside it—they are excess upon the body. Matching xing with De: xing is in Heaven, De is in the person; matching form with xing: xing is inner, form is outer. What comes from Heaven feels superfluous to the person; what arises from outside feels superfluous to inner nature—this is the natural order.

Benevolence and righteousness can originally work together with Dao and De, yet the outward traces of renyi are what Dao and De can find wearisome, just as the body finds flesh tumors and warts burdensome. Webbed and supernumerary fingers stand for the essence of renyi; tumors and warts stand for its outward show; the bodily form and innate nature stand for the inherent Dao and De. Webbed and supernumerary fingers come from nature and cannot be removed—just as the root of renyi also comes from nature. Tumors and warts grow on the body and can be removed—just as artificially fashioned traces of renyi can be set aside. If one can forget the outward traces of renyi, one can align with the principle of xing and ming (nature and life-destiny) and merge with Dao and De as one; if one can forget the encumbrance of the body, webbed and supernumerary fingers become like the ordinary limbs and no longer stand out. Warts are outside the form; the outward traces of renyi are outside innate nature. Removing warts preserves the body; forgetting the outward traces of renyi lets the person blend indistinguishably with the Dao.

Chen Xiangdao comments: Xing is established through De, and the bodily form depends on xing. Webbed and supernumerary fingers are not originally part of De-nature, hence they are called excess upon xing. The beginnings of renyi are already present when life first stirs, like extra digits arising on the Dao-path; after birth, the practical exercise of renyi appears, like warts growing on that path. People know that webbed and supernumerary fingers are useless and that warts become a burden, yet they do not see that the enactment of renyi may be the same: when one esteems Dao and De, renyi seems redundant; when one applies renyi, Dao and De can seem like a drag.

Chen Jingyuan, the Hermit of Azure Void, explains in his commentary: “Pianzhi” (superfluous limbs) are redundant parts that arise together with life; though they spring from human innate nature, they are only extra growths one is born with. “Zhuiyou” (wen-like excrescences) are things that appear only after birth, clinging to the bodily form and becoming burdens beyond one’s allotted life and nature. Both can be called “extravagance” (chi)—that is, what is superfluous and unnecessary.

When the qi of the Five Phases is in balance, the Five Constants (benevolence, righteousness, ritual propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness) will not lean to one side; this is the proper path of virtue. If benevolence and righteousness are excessive, it shows that the qi received by the five viscera is uneven and that some aspect must be deficient—hence one strays from the proper path of virtue. Even if extra fingers or toes grow on hands or feet, they are merely useless appendages; why bother gnawing them off? As for superfluous limbs in the dispositions of the five viscera, partiality in conduct of benevolence and righteousness, and manifold cleverness in talent and intelligence—all add redundant branches where something was already useful and only deepen the harm.

Lin Xiyi of Bamboo Brook, in Yanzhai Kouyi, says: what is “born along with one” is called xing (nature); what each person uniquely receives as endowment is called de (virtue/power). Though pianzhi comes from the natural, if it exceeds what people share in common as endowment, it becomes surplus; zhuiyou weighing on the body is the same idea. Here the senses of “xing” and “de” differ slightly from usage in Confucian classics. “Duofang” means manifold and complicated; “lie yu wuzang” (arrayed among the five viscera) means these phenomena do not stem from inner nature—hence they are not the proper path of virtue.

Gaozi held that righteousness comes from without; Zhuangzi treats “benevolence” as external as well. He groups partial benevolence and righteousness with cleverness and intelligence, holding that these are not disciplines aimed at inner cultivation—so he sees only their complications.

Chu’s Guanjian says: “What Heaven mandates is called xing”; things live by what they receive in endowment, which is called de; joining de and xing and filling them out in bodily form is called xing (form). All this is received from nature, so one should honor life, embody the great Dao, accord with Heaven’s way, and sustain utmost sincerity without ceasing. Whatever goes beyond de and xing itself becomes pianzhi and zhuiyou. Adding many branches in benevolence, righteousness, and clever intelligence is not the proper path of virtue.

Because Zhuangzi opens the outer chapters with this view, some criticize him for slighting benevolence and righteousness and for speaking too harshly. In fact, Laozi and Zhuangzi were not chasing lofty abstruseness for its own sake, nor simply demeaning benevolence and righteousness. When one esteems virtue (de), benevolence and righteousness are already included; it was only that the benevolence and righteousness of the age had often sprouted many side branches and clutter and no longer fit the proper path, so Zhuangzi had to reject them. If benevolence and righteousness come from the heart and one’s conduct is calmly reasonable and in accord with virtue, how far could they be from the moral way? Pianzhi and zhuiyou are merely temporary forms where qi has gathered; at first they do not directly harm the body.

Follow your innate nature in acting, and simply do not reject it—that is enough. Some people loathe the extra growths on the body and try to bite them off; in doing so they bring greater harm upon themselves. Therefore the true person is skilled at using apt parables to dispel people’s confusion, hoping that students will quietly reflect: what seems false may thereby reveal what is real. In this way the supreme principle granted by Heaven can be kept whole, and the inherent worth of life can be restored.

Dao and the myriad things are originally one substance; Heaven and the human being are thoroughly blended. Look again at co‑grown branch‑like limbs or warty excrescences on the body—how could they be treated as burdens on the flesh? So‑called intelligence and humaneness also spring from one’s own inner power (De); they are likewise facets in which the Dao shows itself. Only do not chase these outward manifestations and take them as paths for seeking goodness outside yourself; you should find a way to return to the root and align with the broad, penetrating realm. Then in the end you will also merge into the subtlety of Dao and De—where would any perversity remain?

The line “duō fāng yú cōngmíng zhī yòng” (“multifarious in the use of cleverness”) appears this way in all extant versions. Chen Jingyuan, Master Bixu, says that the edition collated by Zhang Junfang lacks the character fang (“方”), and cites the later phrase “those who have more than enough cleverness” as evidence. He discusses this at considerable length.

Thus, fixating too much on sight disturbs the sense of colors and plunges one into ornate patterns. Azure, yellow, and other hues, and embroidered ceremonial robes—are they not exactly this? So it was with Lizhu, the man of legendary keen sight. Fixating too much on hearing disturbs the sense of sounds and plunges one into the six pitch‑standards of ancient music. Bells, chime‑stones, zithers, lutes, flutes, and panpipes, and the tones such as Yellow Bell and Great Clarity—are they not exactly this? So it was with Shi Kuang, the Spring and Autumn master famed for musical skill.

Letting humaneness and righteousness sprout only as side branches elevates conduct and blocks the nature, so as to win reputation and make the world, like instruments sounding, proclaim moral norms far beyond the ordinary. Is it not so? Zeng Shen and Shi Yu were like this. Fixating too much on disputation likewise piles up phrases and arrays arguments, indulging in debates over “hard and white” and “sameness and difference,” wasting energy and praising talk with no practical use. Is it not so? Yang Zhu and Mozi were like this.

Therefore all of these are ways of adding too much and growing stray branches; they are not the truly upright Dao of the world. The truly upright do not go against the genuine situation of life. Hence what Heaven joins together is not treated as surplus; what Heaven separates is not treated as defect; what Heaven makes long is not treated as excess; what Heaven makes short is not treated as lack. So the wild duck’s legs are naturally short—lengthen them and it grieves; the crane’s legs are naturally long—shorten them and it sorrows. What nature makes long should not be cut short; what nature makes short should not be lengthened. Without adding to or subtracting from nature, such griefs do not arise.

Guo Xiang comments: People with ears and eyes never trouble themselves because they envy the deaf or the blind; what truly troubles them is often envying Lizhu and Shi Kuang. Thus even Lizhu’s and Shi Kuang’s sharp hearing and sight can disturb the natural state in which people use their ears and eyes. Zeng Shen and Shi Yu were by nature strong in humaneness and righteousness, while those not naturally strong in humaneness and righteousness insist on admiring them; once one acts humanely out of admiration, humaneness has already become false. The people of the world never…

If one admires Jie and Zhi (legendary tyrant and robber), one will also admire Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu (men famed for benevolence and righteousness); then the moral norms that Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu preached would stir the world like music and make people lose their true nature—and that influence could be more damaging than Jie and Zhi indulging their natures.

Those skilled in speech refuse to listen to Taowu (a figure of legendary brutality), yet insist on arguing between Yang Zhu and Mozi; then the doctrines of Yang Zhu and Mozi become the source that scrambles all opinions. Such people all take their own nature as teacher, each favoring one side and treating a branch as the main path; every school thinks itself right. If you use one kind of “rightness” to unify all things, everything instead loses its proper place. Therefore the true Dao does not straighten the world by its own standard; it only lets each thing in the world accord with its own nature.

The following examples show what “ultimate correctness” means: if you measure a closed, aligned state by the standard of separate branches, you will call the closed state superfluous; if you measure branches by the standard of closure, you will call the branches crooked. Measure the long by the short and you will say the long has surplus; measure the short by the long and you will say the short is insufficient. Each thing has its fitting place; you cannot take one standard and change another kind of thing. When you understand each being’s nature and proper share, and do not add or subtract at will, you can let things be; groundless worry ceases and worry naturally disperses.

Lü Huiqing’s note: What is called “clarity” (ming) means that one has a view of one’s own. If you treat what you see as “clarity,” you merge your opinion with the object and forcibly say they are the same. What is called “sharp hearing” (cong) means that one has heard for oneself; yet pitch, strings, and bamboo sounds all lie outside—if you import them, that is increase and burden. Where the Dao arises, follow innate nature and pass through naturally; then all things under heaven can be self-sufficient, neither feeling themselves lacking nor judging other things superfluous. Deliberately elevating virtue is inflating it; blocking innate nature makes people loathe their own nature. Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu strained after benevolence, went too far, and chased reputation; the world echoed one another and followed norms beyond their proper measure—that is precisely how they strayed from the way of benevolence.

The Dao was never meant to be carried by words, so disputation is not the Dao. The value of tiles lies in orderly arrangement; the value of cord lies in straightness and tying; punctuation marks help one read through a text. The heart-mind should be empty and still, yet people wander in disputes over “hard and white,” “sameness and difference,” and the like—walking and standing with effort only to explain useless words, like stacking tiles or knotting cord. That is why Yang Zhu and Mozi sank into tedious debate. None of this is ultimate correctness for the world. Ultimate correctness means not losing the true state of one’s own nature and life (xingming); then one can be non-active (wuwei) and natural, without adding to or subtracting from the myriad things.

Lin Yidu’s note: Fixating on “clarity” (ming), one is disturbed by the five colors and therefore does not understand the Dao….

Those whose inner minds are clear can turn inward and examine themselves. When the ears take in too much, they are disturbed by all kinds of sounds, and one fails to see that harmony within silence is not something the ears can hear. Those who cling to benevolence (ren) split the original meaning of benevolence apart; they parade their virtue and veil their true nature in order to win renown, so that people under heaven stir one another like players of sheng pipes and reed whistles, following their standards yet always feeling they have not done enough.

Those who cling to disputation pile up words as steep as stacked tiles and bind their doctrines as tight as knotted cords. They hide their real intent in obscure, crooked doctrines, fuss over the art of forced phrasing, and fixate on arguments such as “a white horse is not a horse,” expending effort on useless words. All of this is the profusion of side branches, not the most upright Dao under heaven. The most upright Dao under heaven is simply Dao and De (Virtue/Power). Dao and De are nothing other than what arises from the natural pattern of nature-and-life (xingming).

What is called “holding to the correct” is to set things right without being turned by external things; not losing the genuine truth of nature-and-life, the proper bounds of each thing become clear. Thus conjoined toes are not an extra limb, and an extra fleshy toe on the foot is not a deformity; the tall are not thought to have an extra span of height, nor the short to be lacking. Each accords with an inborn allotment, and worry has nowhere to settle—it disperses of itself.

Chen Xiangdao’s commentary: “Parading virtue and veiling true nature” explains the excesses of Zeng Shen in filial piety toward his parents and of Shi Qiu in loyalty to his lord. “Words stacked like tiles and bound like cords” refers to those who use steep, elaborate speech to praise benevolence and righteousness to the utmost. The sage does not seek fame; those who cling to benevolence chase after it. The benevolent ought not to be full of care—if those who constantly display benevolence and righteousness are instead burdened with many worries, they are far from the Dao.

The human form originally has no superfluous branches; such branches grow attached to the form and are not its normal state. The Dao originally has no benevolence and righteousness; benevolence and righteousness arise from the Dao but are not the Dao’s normal state. When the form rests in what it naturally is, connected toes or an extra fleshy toe need not be a burden; when the Dao rests in what it naturally is, benevolence and righteousness need not be a calamity—one need only preserve one’s own De and follow one’s nature. Yet people today are already caught in the troubles that benevolence and righteousness bring, and still fret over them, like cutting apart conjoined toes or biting off an extra fleshy toe. Those without benevolent De who nevertheless force themselves to practice benevolence and righteousness in order to grasp wealth and status violate the genuine truth of nature-and-life and deliberately add superfluous branches to themselves.

Chen Bixu’s commentary: “Conjoined thumb” (pianmu) means toes grown together; measured against the usual count of five toes, it seems abnormal. “Doubled clarity” (pianming) means possessing a doubled inborn nature yet being treated as surplus. The sage gathers in sight and hearing…

Turning inward to look and listen within is how one nourishes the inner life; people of the world, by contrast, envy the extraordinary sight and hearing of Li Zhu and Shi Kuang, letting ear and eye run after outer scenes until body and spirit are worn and harmed. In that case, Li Zhu and Shi Kuang become the very masters who disorder ear and eye.

Those who fixate on benevolence and righteousness exalt virtue and block innate nature, all to win a name, rushing about the four quarters until the true nature is lost; then Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu (men famed for virtue) become models that mislead the heart. Disputation crisscrosses like tiles piled layer on layer; wide learning and many analogies are like knotted rope, bent and tangled. Arguing the fine and hidden means altering phrases and hiding one’s meaning; the mind roaming in the strange means getting caught in how things split and merge, in right and wrong. Praising petty ways means toiling in vain and making no real advance. The finest eloquence sounds dull; too many words easily leave one without a case. Thus the schools of Yang Zhu and Mo Di stand for extravagant, bizarre doctrine.

When body and nature are excessive or deficient, that is not the purest Dao. To follow the endowment of nature and be naturally upright is what is called “correct.” “Correct” means being so of itself, not losing the principle of life’s authenticity. Whether one makes others obey oneself or makes oneself obey others, the true cast of life’s nature is lost. Join what belongs together without letting it become extra branches; stretch out stilt-like legs without deliberately adding length. Forget the divisions of form, and you will no longer worry over them. A crane’s legs need not be shortened, nor a wild duck’s lengthened; when one no longer worries artificially, worry naturally disperses.

Yuxie Kouyi explains: The ancients held that the five-colored patterns could nourish the eyes; Zhuangzi held that they disorder and confuse the eyes— the same idea as Laozi’s “the five colors make the eyes blind.” Li Zhu stands for those skilled at brightening the eyes; if someone thinks this wrong, those skilled at using the eyes will think it right. Excessive pursuit of hearing is the same. Virtue is naturally still; to force the practice of benevolence is to exalt virtue and block innate nature; it stirs the world with words to follow laws hard to fulfill. Words pile up without meaning, like stacked tiles or tangled knots; deliberately changing phrases to show skill in debate, so the mind wanders among disputes such as “hard and white” and “same and different.” “Toiling in vain” means laboring hard, straining on tiptoe to chase after things; when speech has no practical use yet one praises oneself and is pleased, that is only empty toil. If someone thinks this wrong, the schools of Yang Zhu and Mo Di will think it right.

So-called extra branches are all matters beyond one’s portion, not the purest Dao. “Correct” is following nature, not losing the principle of life’s authenticity. Therefore, join without adding branches, stretch out legs without seeking greater height: neither treat length as surplus nor shortness as lack. This matches the idea that an autumn hair can be great and Mount Tai small. “Qǐ” (跂) means standing on tiptoe; once one deliberately rises on tiptoe, the body cannot be level and at ease. Duck and crane…

Length and shortness both appear according to the original disposition of each thing. When disposition rests in its own proper place, there is no sorrow that needs to be driven out.

The line “Why do humane persons have so many worries?” includes Yao, Shun, Confucius, and Mencius alike.

This passage clarifies what came before: every person has his or her own nature; each nature naturally possesses its own capacities, and each capacity has its proper limit—not the slightest fraction can be forced beyond it. To envy Lizhu’s sharp sight is to harm one’s own vision; to admire Shikuang’s keen hearing is to impair one’s own hearing; to follow Zeng Shen and Shi Yu in pursuing benevolence may mean overexertion; to imitate Yang Zhu and Mozi in disputation may lead one into one-sidedness. These are cases of using what one lacks to chase what others have in abundance—climbing step by step upward, pursuing goals without end. That is not the most proper state for the world.

What is called “ultimate rectitude” (zhizheng) is fully realizing the endowment of one’s own nature and life, and no longer envying or grasping after others’ strengths. When people rest in their own stations and things each attain their proper state, what is joined is not treated as excess, and what branches or extends is not treated as deficiency; length and shortness each fit their place, and one is no longer troubled by having too much or too little. Worldly cares need not be deliberately expelled—they naturally dissolve. This is first fully realizing one’s own nature, then letting each thing realize its own nature. Seen this way, letting all things each find their joy is also completing one’s own joy.

On careful examination of the scripture, I believe “纍瓦” should read “累丸” (piling pellets); “正正者” should follow the preceding text and be emended to “至正”; and “不为跂” should be written “不为岐”. These are errors introduced in transmission by copying.