《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 29

Remaining Free and Unconstrained, Chapter One

We have heard of letting the world rest in peace, allowing all things to be tolerant and at ease, but never of governing the world by means of government. “Remaining” means fearing that people will indulge their nature; “unconstrained” means fearing that they will alter their original De (Virtue). If people neither indulge their nature nor alter their original De, why would anyone need to govern the world?

In ancient times, Yao governed the world by making its people joyful and encouraging everyone to give free expression to their nature. But this left them unable to rest in simplicity. Jie governed the world by making its people weary and distressed, so that everyone suffered over their circumstances. This left them unable to live with ease and joy. Neither quiet contentment nor joyful ease accords with De; and nothing in the world that fails to accord with De can endure for long.

When people rejoice excessively, Yang Qi becomes too strong; when they grow excessively angry, Yin Qi becomes too strong. When Yin and Yang both lose their balance, the seasons fall out of rhythm and cold and heat can no longer be harmonized. Would such disorder not in turn damage people’s bodies? When people’s joy and anger are out of proportion, their daily routines become irregular and their thoughts unsettled. They cannot act in accord with the middle way, and their words and deeds lose coherence. The world then begins to see perversity, deceit, ostentation, and violence. Only afterward do the deeds of bandits like Robber Zhi and worthies like Zeng Shen and Shi Yu appear. Even all the rewards in the world would not suffice to reward the good; even all the punishments in the world would not suffice to punish the wicked. Thus, vast as the world is, it cannot be governed by rewards and punishments alone. Since the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, people have been caught up in endless turmoil, treating rewards and punishments as their daily concern. How could they have any time left to settle their innate nature and the true conditions of their life?

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “‘Unconstrained’ means letting the myriad things be at ease. Deliberate governance only creates disorder. So long as people’s true nature is left undisturbed, their nature and life will not go beyond their proper measure, and their desires and aversions will not become excessive. If those in high positions cannot practice Wuwei (non-action), they will stir up people’s admiration, affection, and aversion, thereby disturbing the people’s nature.”

What makes a sage king worthy of esteem is not skill in governing, but practicing Wuwei and letting the myriad things follow their own dispositions. Only when they are not deliberately governed will the myriad things avoid changing their nature and departing from what is natural. Although Yao let the world rest in peace, the traces he left behind still bore the mark of governance. Yao and Jie governed in different ways, yet both deprived later generations of a life of ease and joy, driving the myriad things to compete for superiority and live in fear and contempt, unable to be at ease.

Disordered joy and anger and irregular routines are all harms brought about by the ways of people like Yao and Jie. Between Heaven and Earth, people are especially apt to disturb the myriad things through their keen perceptions and their joy and anger, setting Yin and Yang in motion. Thus, when joy and anger over gain and loss accumulate in the hearts of the people, the harmony of cold and heat is disrupted, the rhythm of the seasons falls into disarray, and the laws and offices of the hundred officials grow confused…

Forget everything, and the things of the world will naturally pass away. If people are intent only on coveting rewards, in the end there will not be enough rewards to go around. If they are intent only on fearing punishments, punishments cannot make everyone obey. Forget rewards and punishments, and people can naturally keep to what is good, preserve their nature, and safeguard their lives. Only then are their nature and life properly settled.

Rewards and punishments are means by which sage-kings respond to good and bad conduct; they are not devices for extolling good and condemning evil, or for making people afraid. Thus, when governance reaches the highest principle, rewards and punishments, too, are set aside. Since the Three Dynasties, people have pursued outward reputations and achievements, treating what they entrust to external things as the great business of life. How could they have any time to settle the feelings of their own nature and life?

Commentary by Lü Huiqing: The world is where all things return to oneness. The constant nature and original De (Virtue/Power) of each thing are also my own nature and original De. “Preserving and allowing the world” means no more than safeguarding and giving free rein to the nature within myself. “Preserving” means keeping it from loss, following its natural course without adding to it. “Allowing” means letting it be without letting it run wild, as animals are kept and fed within an enclosure. Do not interfere excessively or cause it to change; simply practice Wuwei (non-action).

With Wuwei, there are no fixed views of one’s own. Without fixed views, who is there to govern the world? Therefore, forget both Yao’s rightness and Jie’s wrongness. People are born tranquil; where, to begin with, are happiness and suffering? To make people happy or make them suffer is to disturb their nature. Once their nature is disturbed, their De cannot help but change along with it.

All things turn their backs to Yin and face Yang; the two Qi (vital energies) mingle to form harmonious Qi. Everyone has this mingled, harmonious Qi and can communicate with Heaven and Earth. Yao made the people delight in their own nature, but this caused them to become excessively joyful and to lean toward Yang Qi. Jie made the people suffer, but this caused them to become excessively angry and likewise to lean toward Yang Qi. In this way, the balanced harmony of Yin and Yang was damaged and the movement of the four seasons disrupted. Cold and heat lost their balance; instead of bringing all things to fruition, they harmed the human body.

When thought cannot find its own ease, action cannot accord with the middle way, and writing cannot achieve completeness, people are harming one another. Then the world begins to see abnormal conduct such as arrogance, fault-finding, striving for distinction, and ferocity. “Qiao” means esteeming what is lofty and distant; “jie” means probing until nothing remains; “zhuo” means being beyond others’ reach; and “zhi” means being fierce and unwilling to associate with others. None of these is conduct that is even and centered. Rewards and punishments are therefore unable to keep up, and people can no longer settle the feelings of their nature and life.

Commentary by Lin Yidu: Of all the things in the world, nothing that comes into being does so except through its own spontaneity; nothing that each thing receives is anything but its own natural ease. The sage observes the spontaneous nature of all things in the world and preserves it, so that each may roam at ease according to its own wishes. The sage follows and gives free rein to the original De inherent in all things, so that each may rest in what is fitting and delight in its own nature and feelings. Preserving it enables all things in the world to fulfill their nature; giving it free rein enables all things in the world to follow their original De. In this way, nature is not disturbed and De does not change. The sage thus governs through Wuwei. How, then, could there be any governing of the world… [The original text ends here.]

When the mind is not troubled by external things, this is called “calm” (tian): quiet and at peace. When the mind can accord with external things and fit in with them, this is called “joy” (yu): ease and delight. Excessive joy scatters Qi and unsettles the spirit, so the mind cannot remain calm. Anger makes Qi run counter to its proper course and knots the mind in frustration, so it cannot feel at ease.

The human mind is naturally capable of remaining empty and still. Sorrow and joy arise because external things stir it. Yao and Jie governed the world in opposite ways, one benevolently and the other wickedly, yet both their forms of government stirred people’s minds and thereby harmed their nature. Neither followed the former kings’ way of going along with nature and finding contentment in it. How could such ways endure?

When people become excessively joyful, Yang Qi is often dispersed; when they become excessively angry, Yin Qi is often constricted and stagnant. Joy and anger first arise when a ruler’s governance loses its balance, and then cause the people’s emotions to lose their measure. Those above violate the harmony of Heaven and Earth, and the result is harm to the people’s bodies. This is how one thing brings about another. People then become anxious and unsettled, unable to live freely, and the way of central balance becomes difficult to establish. All this shows how the human body is injured and Yin and Yang lose their harmony.

“Striving for the high and the distant” means reaching beyond one’s proper limits and contending to prevail. When people prize unusual conduct, the world produces figures such as Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu, regarded as worthy men because of Yao’s example, and wicked men such as Robber Zhi because of Jie’s. Once Yao is elevated and Jie condemned, good and evil contend in confusion. Even if the world’s wealth were exhausted, there would not be enough to reward the good and punish the wicked—let alone to deal with anything else. If those in high positions make rewards and punishments their constant priority in governing, how can the people keep to their nature and preserve the natural state of their lives?

Chen Xiangdao’s commentary says: Rulers who wish to follow the Way of Heaven should avoid disrupting the people with deliberate interference. The best way to benefit them without causing harm is to let them live freely. “Let be” means not to disturb them; “spare” means not to press them. When people are not disturbed, their nature is not excessively directed, and the myriad things grow naturally, though people do not know how they have grown. When they are not pressed, their De is not altered, and each person finds their place, though they do not know how they have come to find it. What more deliberate governing of the world is needed?

If rulers cannot keep the people calm, they will deprive them of ease: without calm, people are prone to excessive joy and become biased toward Yang; without ease, they are prone to excessive anger and become biased toward Yin. Human Qi is connected with Heaven and Earth. When Yin or Yang becomes excessive within the human body, Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth also change in response. Cold and heat then lose their harmony, ultimately causing harm to the human body. The world is consequently filled with people who reach for the lofty, probe the obscure, prize the unusual, and devote themselves to speed. All this departs from the way of central balance. People either pursue goodness to excess or turn toward evil. Thus, even if the world were exhausted, there would not be enough to reward and punish them. At that point, how could anyone still attend to helping the people keep to their nature?

The ancient rulers needed only to let all things under Heaven exist in peace, embracing them with generosity. They did not deliberately set about governing. Thus the nature of the people under Heaven remained undisturbed, and their virtue did not change. In this way, all under Heaven was naturally governed through Wuwei (non-action).

Yao lost the way of letting all things exist naturally and instead put benevolence into practice. This caused the people to lose their natural disposition, until they drew near to him and praised his reputation. Jie lacked the virtue of treating things with generosity and instead was relentlessly harsh and impatient. This caused the people to lose their natural virtue, until they feared and despised him. When people’s nature is disturbed and their virtue altered, ruin is inevitable.

People’s joy and anger correspond to Yin-Yang. When Yin-Yang is out of balance, it in turn harms the body and mind. A taste for lofty and extravagant ideas is exemplified by worthy men such as Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu; standing apart in proud isolation, or being fierce and severe, is exemplified by villains such as Robber Zhi. Rewarding good deeds alone cannot keep pace with honoring those who pretend to do good, and punishing evil deeds alone is not enough to deal with those who truly do evil. So people clamor and compete, pursuing power and profit. How could they have any time to enjoy quiet contentment and preserve their lives?

Lin Yanzhai explains: “‘Letting things exist’ means allowing all things to live in peace and freedom. ‘Forbearance’ means tolerance and sympathetic care. If the nature of the people under Heaven is undisturbed and their virtue does not shift, why govern deliberately? ‘Quiet’ means calm; ‘joy’ means happiness. Joy belongs to Yang, anger to Yin; ‘augmenting and harmonizing’ means increasing and bringing into balance. Medical texts say that when the body suffers from an excess on one side, it must be brought back to equilibrium. When Heaven and Earth lose their balance, the seasons become irregular and people fall ill. ‘Unsettled in their conduct’ refers to ceaseless reckless activity and disorderly behavior that departs from the Middle Way.

“‘Lofty’ means aspiring too high; ‘contentious’ means disputing and finding fault; ‘standing apart’ means maintaining oneself in isolation; ‘fierce’ means violent and unyielding. All describe states of disharmony. Zeng Shen, Shi Qiu, and Robber Zhi are simply used to represent the worthy and the unworthy, respectively. When one’s mind is not at peace, both the worthy and the unworthy may lose their original nature. Today, people reward the worthy and punish the unworthy without distinction, yet those called worthy are not necessarily truly worthy. Such people are numerous in the world; rewards alone cannot explain or solve the problem. When everyone covets rewards and avoids punishment, and people treat one another with deceit, how can they abide peacefully by the natural principles of their nature and life?

“‘Letting things exist’ means simply allowing all things to continue. Though the ruler possesses all under Heaven, he does not interfere in it for personal reasons. ‘Forbearance’ means cherishing and caring for the people, regarding them as though one feared they might be harmed. The wise ruler sits calmly in court and acts with ease through Wuwei, while the people live quietly and happily in the fields. In this way, human nature remains undisturbed and virtue does not stray; people’s bodies, voices, and Qi are in harmony, and Heaven and Earth respond in kind.”

Since the Three Dynasties, the prevailing approach to governing the world has grown noisy and unsettled. Rulers have made rewards and punishments their chief means of governing the people, leaving them unable to settle their nature and life. By the turbulent age of the Warring States, there were even cases in which rewards could no longer spur people to exert themselves, nor punishments make them fear.

The Nanhua Zhenjing (the Daoist name for the Zhuangzi) advocates “sheltering and allowing” (treating people leniently and letting things follow their own course). Perhaps it sought to restore the ways of governing in antiquity. Living in the world, people come into contact with external things every day. They are bound to encounter what pleases or displeases them and to feel joy and anger. What matters is regulating these responses well, expressing emotion in due measure and preserving equanimity. If joy and anger become excessive and Yin-Yang fall out of balance, disorder follows, as when cold and heat become abnormal. How much more so in human life?

The roots of such excessive emotion lie in the contrasting ways of governing associated with Yao and Jie: one brought joy to the people, the other drove them to hardship. This is what gave rise to joy and anger. From there, names for good and evil became clear, and systems of reward and punishment were established. People throughout the world began to pursue lofty, exceptional conduct, probe strange and unusual words, and outdo one another through forceful action. The good were called Zeng Shen and Shi Yu, men famed for their virtue; the wicked were called Jie and Robber Zhi, exemplars of tyrants and bandits. Even if everyone in the world were brought forward, they would not suffice as examples to encourage goodness and punish evil. By this point, rulers had no recourse.

Yet those who withdrew to rivers, seas, mountains, and forests still hoped to find a way to save the world and restore it to order. Their words may have seemed strange and eccentric, but their intentions accorded with those of Fuxi and the Yellow Emperor, legendary sage kings of antiquity. How can we criticize them lightly just because their methods were different?

Moreover, a fondness for keen perception may lead one to become absorbed in sights and sounds; a fondness for clever sounds may lead one to become absorbed in music. A fondness for benevolence may disrupt De; a fondness for righteousness may violate what is fitting. A fondness for ritual may degenerate into a display of technique; a fondness for music may lead to indulgence. Revering the sages may lead to contrived performance, while delighting in cleverness may instead bring about error.

If the world can settle the people’s nature and life, these eight things may be present or absent. But if the world cannot settle their nature and life, these eight things will be cut apart, entangled, and piled up until they throw the world into disorder. And yet people throughout the world revere and cherish them. The confusion of the world is truly profound! They not only refuse to set these things aside, but solemnly expound them after ritual purification, present them while kneeling, and beat drums, sing, and dance in their praise. What can I do?

Therefore, if a gentleman has no choice but to govern the world, nothing is better than Wuwei (non-action). Through Wuwei, the people can settle their nature and life. Thus, if one values oneself more than governing the world, then…

If one can regard the world as a great responsibility to be entrusted to someone, while cherishing oneself and taking responsibility for its affairs, then the world can be entrusted to that person.

If a noble person can refrain from disturbing the five inner organs, avoid deliberately displaying cleverness and skill, sit quietly like a corpse yet appear like a dragon, remain still and silent yet have an effect like thunder, let the mind’s activity follow the laws of nature, and act with ease through Wuwei (non-action), then all things will grow of themselves. What time would I have to govern the world?

Guo Xiang’s commentary: What accords with the way things are need not be pursued for pleasure. To pursue pleasure deliberately brings the danger of excess and of violating what is natural. A person’s life and death are not under their own control. If each person rests in the role allotted to them, their nature and life will be at peace. Yet if one insists on preserving these eight things, one cannot let nature take its course. To bind them and store them away is already a mistake; to regard them as precious is more foolish still. People do not merely set these things aside; they cherish them in this way as well.

“Wuwei” does not mean folding one’s hands and saying nothing, doing nothing. It means letting all things follow their own nature, so that their nature and life may be at peace. “Having no choice” does not mean being driven by punishments and threats. It means embracing the Great Dao and simplicity, and following what the nature of things requires; then the world will submit of itself. Thus, whether entering public service or withdrawing, speaking or remaining silent, one acts without deliberate intent. The spirit moves in response to external things, and the laws of nature operate according to the nature of each thing. It is like dust moving with the current: one simply lets things take their course.

Lü Huiqing’s commentary: If the world cannot rest in the nature and life proper to each thing, then what are called cleverness, benevolence and righteousness, ritual and music, and the wisdom of the sages no longer accord with the true way. They only disturb De and violate what is natural. Whether those eight things are preserved or cast aside makes no difference. To divide them is to make them incomplete; to bind them is to keep them from unfolding; to pile them up is to keep them from dispersing; to seal them shut is to keep them from being released. All these practices disturb the world. Yet people still revere and cherish them, even fasting, reciting, beating drums, and dancing, believing that the truest principles of the world lie within them. People have long been confused. What can I do?

Governing the world truly arises from necessity. If one is also free of selfish desire, why should I not cherish and care for myself while governing the world, instead of sacrificing myself? Such a person is fit to be entrusted with the world. “Esteem” means not treating oneself as insignificant; “care” means not putting oneself in danger. Entrusting the world is like entrusting oneself to another; placing it in someone’s care is like leaving an object in their keeping. Esteeming oneself goes further than caring for oneself, and entrusting someone with the world is a weightier responsibility than temporarily placing it under their care.

Not disturbing the five inner organs means not letting benevolence and righteousness overflow. Not deliberately displaying cleverness means not being drawn along by sights and sounds. To be still as a corpse yet appear like a dragon means that one’s appearing arises from Wuwei. To be silent and deeply still yet speak with the force of thunder means that one’s speaking arises from silence.

Only after acting does there come a response; only then does one answer in turn. When things follow the Way of Heaven, they arrive of their own accord, without being summoned. In this calm, non-active state, the myriad things gather like drifting smoke and dust. “Accumulating smoke” describes the way smoke and dust collect. The myriad things return, gathering naturally like dust. What leisure, then, would there be to govern the world deliberately?

Lin Yidu’s commentary:

Benevolence and righteousness are the roots of ritual and music; ritual and music are the outward expression of benevolence and righteousness. If one starts from one’s nature and lets benevolence and righteousness fill the heart, one can become one with the Dao. But if one uses cleverness and talent to pursue benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music outwardly, one turns away from the Dao and is left with names alone. If people throughout the world can abide by the nature inherent in their own life, then these eight qualities—benevolence, righteousness, ritual, music, and their related virtues—will remain naturally. Preserving them brings human virtue to completion; refraining from deliberately preserving them brings the Way of Heaven to light.

If people chase fame and cling to outward forms, these eight qualities are cut apart and bound up, jumbled together and accumulated indiscriminately, until they disturb the world. These words all describe people who are stuck and constrained, unable to move freely. Yet people throughout the world have begun to honor and cherish these names, fasting and dancing, straining to display reverence. There is nothing I can do about it.

When a gentleman receives the allegiance of the people and has no choice but to govern the world, the best course is Wuwei (non-action). Through non-action, nothing goes unanswered. Non-action is how one governs oneself; responding to everything without exception is how one meets the things of the world. The way of Yao and Shun was no more than this.

When the sage withdraws within and joins with the Way of Heaven, there is neither status nor preference. People throughout the world do not know what is worthy of respect or affection, and so have nowhere to place their trust. When the sage emerges and enters the world, status and preference appear. People know there is someone worthy of respect, and entrust their hearts to him; they know there is someone worthy of affection, and attach themselves to him. Without status or affection, the spirit is deep and obscure, merging with external things. With status and affection, the spirit is lodged in the body. The body is where the spirit resides, and the world in turn resides in my body. My body resides in Heaven and Earth, and Heaven and Earth reside in emptiness. From this we can see that everything with form must have somewhere in which it resides.

Laozi said, “One who esteems himself and regards himself as the world can be entrusted with the world; one who cherishes himself and regards himself as the world can have the world placed in his care.” The meaning is the same, though the wording differs. Laozi’s words imply that something is being done; they have not yet reached the state of complete non-action. They seem to speak of non-action, but do not fully do so. Laozi speaks to those who already possess the world, while Zhuangzi speaks to those who do not yet possess it. The phrase “can be entrusted” shows that the speaker already possesses the world, yet does not set his heart on it. Among the ancients, Yao and Shun were such people. As for “can…”—the original text ends here.

When the world had not yet come into being, there were already people who kept it in mind: in antiquity, people such as Confucius and Mencius. Each simply held to what they believed.

If the five organs are broken apart, spirit, soul, and intention scatter and lose their wholeness. If cleverness is deliberately displayed, the bodily senses—ears, eyes, nose, and mouth—chase after external things and cannot return to their original nature. Can this really be the way a noble person governs the heart and cultivates their nature?

Thus, when at rest, one is still as the ritual corpse; when appearing, one changes unpredictably like a dragon. In silence, one is deep and quiet as an abyss; when speaking, one resounds like thunder. These four ways of being all arise without deliberate intent: they simply respond to the moment and accord with what is fitting. In action, one is as wondrously responsive as a spirit; in movement and stillness, one is as natural as the Dao changing with the seasons. For this reason, the myriad things grow and move along at ease, without action, like fine dust floating of its own accord in the air. What have I to do with it?

Chen Xiangdao’s commentary: Are cleverness, sagely wisdom, benevolence and righteousness, ritual and music things that sages have forcibly devised for the world? They arise only to meet the demands of the times and adapt to change, out of necessity.

People of shallow understanding cling to a straw dog as though it possessed divine power, and take an inn to be a sage’s dwelling. They not only refuse to leave after passing through; they even fast, make offerings, beat drums, and dance. Yet they hope by doing so to keep the people of the world from being deluded. How difficult that is!

If one values oneself more than governing the world, then governing the world matters less than oneself. If one cherishes oneself more than governing the world, then governing the world is less close to one than oneself. This describes those who have forgotten the world. To value oneself more than the world, and to cherish oneself for the sake of the world, is not to have forgotten the world. Forgetting the world is simply a way to make oneself content; not forgetting the world is a way to benefit others. Yet neither approach has reached the point of forgetting oneself.

Laozi says that life is not preserved by treating it as precious, and that one’s person is not nurtured by cherishing it. If so, what could someone who has truly forgotten themselves regard as precious or worthy of care? Cherishing and protecting oneself may fall short of the sage’s state, but it is what everyone in the world wants to do. For this reason, such a person can be entrusted with the world.

When Laozi speaks of “valuing one’s person above the world,” he means that the world may be entrusted to such a person. When he speaks of “cherishing one’s person for the sake of the world,” he means that the world might be entrusted to such a person. The first statement is affirmative; the second carries a note of doubt. Read alongside the ideas of “forgetting the world” and “not forgetting the world,” the difference between “can be so” and “might be so” becomes clear. As for the distinction between “being entrusted with” and “entrusting,” Laozi’s own explanation should guide us.

If the proper organs are not dismantled, De will not flow into the side paths of benevolence and righteousness. If cleverness is not deliberately displayed, the ears and eyes will not become absorbed in the illusions of sound and color. The ritual corpse…

When at rest, it is as though nothing is happening. When the dragon appears, events arise from this stillness, yet it is as though nothing had ever happened. In deep calm and stillness, not a word is spoken. When thunder sounds, words emerge from silence, yet it is as though nothing had ever been said. In this way, one acts in accordance with the myriad things, acting not from one’s own mind but through inner spirit, following the way things are. In carrying out affairs, one does not cling to the Mandate of Heaven but responds to human circumstances. Calm and unhurried, one does nothing, yet the myriad things rise of themselves like cooking smoke, as though all were moving within a bellows. What need is there, then, to labor over governing the world?

Chen Bixu’s commentary: Gather sight and hearing inward, and sounds and colors cannot mislead you. Keep benevolence and righteousness within yourself, and Virtue will not be lost. Let ritual and music discipline you, and perversity cannot intrude. Cut off the traces left by sagely knowledge, and its ills will have no opening through which to enter. The ancients drew in these eight practices to cultivate themselves; people in later ages proclaimed them, and so lost their roots. It is difficult enough to draw in these traces. If one forcibly restrains them and handles them in confusion, matters only become more disorderly. This passage refers to those who believe that old doctrines are impossible to put in order and must inevitably bring chaos to the world. People do not value what is simple, but instead honor and prize practices that are intricate and difficult. Their delusion runs deep indeed. Thus, there is no better way to govern the world than Wuwei (non-action). Never has there been a case in which, through Wuwei, the nature and true life of all things under Heaven failed to find their proper place.

Those who, in seeking to govern the world, value and cherish themselves are in fact valuing and cherishing the world, rather than merely themselves. In this way, gain and loss do not depend on them, and sorrow and joy do not bind them. Only then can the world be entrusted to them. The ritual impersonator of the deceased, who represents an ancestor receiving sacrifice, says nothing, yet the ceremony becomes solemn and orderly. The dragon changes without end, yet its might is made manifest. The nature of the Dao is real and constant, still as a deep abyss; its commands, however, are issued in response to the moment, loud as thunder. Spirit operates within, while forms appear without. Be generous and keep to yourself, and the myriad things will naturally stir and rise. Though one does not deliberately govern the world, the means of governing are already present within this.

Lin, the Hermitage of Yan, says in his Oral Commentary: “Sage” in the phrase “delighting in the sage” is close in meaning to “skilled,” as in “Sage of Cursive Script,” meaning someone skilled in calligraphy. Thus even thieves are called “sages.” These usages cannot be explained according to the meaning of “sage” in the Analects or the Mencius. Be at ease with what is natural, and these eight practices, even if present, will not become a burden. “Luanjuan” means constrained and cramped; “cangnang” means troubled and chaotic. Fasting, kneeling, paying solemn homage, beating drums, and dancing in song are all less natural than leaping and waving one’s arms. This mocks the scholars of the time: “I mean other people. What about you, who act this way?” Having no choice, the author goes on to discuss governance through Wuwei and following nature. The phrase “governance through Wuwei and nature” conveys the idea of someone who is within the world yet does not meddle in its affairs, because he himself…

Even if the world is worthy of being cherished, one must first cherish oneself more than one governs the world. Only then may the world be entrusted to that person. Even if one’s own person is worthy of care, one must first care for oneself more than one governs the world. Only then may the world be placed in that person’s hands. These two statements are unusual in their wording, but sound in their reasoning.

The Book of Rites says, “When the sinews and bones are relaxed, the five organs are no longer constrained.” This refers to not deliberately restraining or straining one’s body and mind. Do not overuse cleverness and skill; instead, sit quietly and still, like a ritual corpse. The Book of Rites says, “Sit like a corpse,” meaning to sit with dignity and composure. The dragon is a metaphor for someone whose literary refinement and bearing are worthy of emulation. Deep and silent, yet when this person does not speak, it is as though thunder sounds, moving others. The Chan saying, “Though he does not speak, his voice is like thunder,” means the same thing. In expression and bearing, speech and action, and the conduct of daily life, everything accords with the natural order. These three statements are profound in their reasoning and unusual in their wording.

“The myriad things cook and swirl” means that all things breathe upon one another, their Qi stirring one another. If I practice Wuwei above, the people will naturally move and rest, like floating dust stirred by a breath. Why, then, should I trouble myself to govern them?

Cleverness, benevolence and righteousness, ritual and music, and sagely wisdom: although these eight things are all human practices, each contains its own natural principle. It is enough simply to follow things as they are and refrain from meddling. Abandoning them is no loss; keeping them is no gain. If the heart becomes attached to them, it will cling to outward forms, producing flaws and even greater harm. When things follow their natural course, the feelings inherent in human nature and life can be at peace. When they become fixed into flaws, people are cramped and uneasy, bound by benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music; or they indulge cleverness and sagely wisdom, throwing the world into disorder. Here, “luan-juan” means being constrained by benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music; “cang-nang” means indulging cleverness and sagely wisdom. If a person in a high position is rigidly attached and restless, how can the world be expected to be at peace?

And yet people still admire, honor, and prize such a person: after he fasts and speaks, they treat his words as wondrous teachings; when he kneels to instruct them, they value what he passes on; even when he beats drums and dances, they delight in it. Their delusion is hard to dispel. What can I do about them? This is a deep sigh. When there is no choice, one must take up the position; only when circumstances demand it should one act. It is best to practice Wuwei and let the myriad things follow their own nature. One who cherishes himself while governing the world will not treat the people lightly; one who cares for himself while governing the world can draw close to the people. Only someone who achieves this may be entrusted with the world. “Entrusted” and “placed in his hands” are simply different turns of phrase; there is no need to distinguish them by degree of importance.

“To loosen the five organs” means to gather in the virtues of the Five Constants and return them to the Dao. “Not to draw out cleverness” means to dissolve distinctions of sound and color, thereby preserving one’s true nature. Thus, someone skilled at living in the world enters office in accord with the times; once in office, he is sure to possess something wondrous. Someone skilled at remaining still… (The original text ends here.)

They respond to the seasons with their cries, and their cries are bound to ring out clearly. This is all the result of long self-cultivation.

When one can accord with the workings of the utmost mystery, even Heaven will not oppose it—how much less so people?

At ease and untroubled, doing nothing, I can find joy in myself. All things rise and flow like cooking smoke, and each can find its own place. When all things and I each find our proper place, the world can be at peace. Why, then, go to the trouble of governing it?

Commentators explain the two characters “倉囊” as “disorder,” but none gives their pronunciation. The Mao Huang Zengyun lists “囊” under the entry for “獰” and cites the Zhuangzi as evidence. Further, in the Biography of Jia Yi in the Book of Han, the phrase “the state’s institutions were in disarray” contains the characters “搶攘”: “搶” is pronounced cāng (仕庚切), and “攘” is pronounced ráng (女庚切); together they mean “disorder.” It follows that since the old commentary explains “倉囊” in this passage as “disorder,” the characters should be pronounced with the same sounds and meaning as “搶攘” in the Book of Han.

Collected Subtleties of the Meaning of the True Classic of Nanhua, juan 30