《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 32

This passage comes from "Zai You" (Letting Be and Tolerating) in the Zhuangzi. It is quoted in Chu Boxiu's Yihai zuanwei (Collected Subtleties from the Sea of Meaning), and Guo Xiang's commentary follows it.

General meaning of the scripture:

What is lowly yet cannot go unused is the myriad things. What is humble yet cannot be disregarded is the common people. What is hidden and hard to see yet cannot go undone is the many affairs of the world. What is coarse yet must be laid out and put into practice is law and regulation. What seems distant yet must be made one's dwelling is righteousness (yi). What is near yet must be extended ever further is benevolence (ren). What is restrained yet must be accumulated step by step is ritual propriety (li). What stands at the center yet must keep rising higher is De (Virtue). What is wholly One yet must be able to change is Dao (the Way). And what is beyond fathoming yet must be allowed to act of itself is Heaven.

Therefore the sage observes Heaven without helping it along, perfects De without being burdened by it, emerges from Dao without scheming, accords with benevolence without relying on it, draws near to righteousness without clinging to its accumulation, responds to ritual propriety without taboo, meets affairs without declining them, orders law and regulation without letting them fall into confusion, depends on the people without despising them, and follows the myriad things without abandoning them. The myriad things are not worth contriving over, yet one cannot but follow along with them. Those who do not understand Heaven will not be pure in De. Those who do not penetrate Dao will find nothing they do can take hold. And those who do not understand Dao are truly to be pitied.

What, then, is Dao? There is the Dao of Heaven and the Dao of humanity. To act without acting and yet occupy the place of honor is the Dao of Heaven. To act and be burdened by affairs is the Dao of humanity. The one who rules is the Dao of Heaven, and the one who serves is the Dao of humanity. The two are far apart, and one must distinguish them with care.

General meaning of Guo Xiang's commentary:

If one employs the myriad things according to their natures, the world is at peace. If one suppresses them against their natures, the world falls into disorder. Employing the lowly makes one appear exalted, and following the humble brings one esteem. This is how things inevitably work. The crux of any matter lies within each thing itself, which is why the text says "hidden." Each thing does what it does of its own accord and cannot but do it, so one need only let things take their course. Law and regulation are the traces left by subtle principles. How could one decline to lay out and carry out those subtle matters simply because their traces are coarse? Righteousness can be dwelt in only when it is fitting, which is why the text calls it "distant." If one is too close, partiality easily arises, so benevolence must be extended. The worry about the restraint of ritual propriety is that one becomes stuck on a single thing. If one can take in all things, then accumulation is complete.

When affairs are lowly, then even if they accord with the mean, they cannot be called De. When matters are difficult, then even if one is single-minded, it cannot be called Dao. Clinging to one's own will and refusing to follow what is natural cannot be called great, even if it is marvelous, let alone what is neither centered, nor unified, nor marvelous. Thus the sage follows what the myriad things do of themselves and so naturally accords with what is lofty. Without scheming, he naturally returns to the One, and this is why the text says "changeable." Relying on two extremes prevents one from being expansive. Following one's nature while dwelling in the distance is not a matter of deliberate accumulation. And accord with ritual propriety comes naturally, not from caution born of taboo.

Handle affairs through ritual and law, welcoming different abilities and opinions. When a responsibility is yours to bear, act in keeping with the circumstances and do not shirk it.

Deference, governance, and even rough rules should all be guided by subtle principles; only then will things remain orderly. Rely on the people to act of their own accord, without intervening rashly. Assign responsibilities in accordance with the nature of things, without departing from their roots. Do we act only to achieve some particular aim? People should act from their own nature, and such action cannot be forcibly stopped.

Those who do not understand what happens naturally will force action at every turn. Once they do so, their De is no longer pure. Those unable to receive things with an open mind will miss the right moment in everything. This is the sorrow of those who do not understand the Dao. The Way of Heaven—the natural course of things—lets the myriad beings grow and change on their own. The human way, by contrast, is often burdened by deliberate action and fails to follow the particular nature of the myriad beings. When one lets all things develop naturally, as the Way of Heaven does, one can stand above them and allow each to take on the responsibilities suited to it. The ruler practices Wuwei (non-action) and entrusts affairs to the officials; each official performs their own duties, while the ruler does not intervene personally. Both ruler and ministers find their proper place by refraining from reckless action, but the ruler rests while the ministers labor; their ease and exertion cannot be compared.

Lü’s commentary says: People are noble and things are base. Though things are lowly and might seem fit to be ignored, one must still accord with them. Thus one follows things rather than acting against them. Things cannot bring matters to completion by themselves, while people cannot avoid taking action; their action should simply assist things in following their own course. The ruler is honored and the people are of lower status, so it might seem that the ruler need not rely on them. Yet even Heaven’s seeing and hearing accord with the myriad beings—how much more so should a ruler? Therefore, rely on the people and do not rashly alter the way of governing.

“Affairs” means handling and responding to change. If one cannot see the first signs of a matter before they become apparent, one cannot understand what lies hidden within it. Therefore, accept and attend to affairs without shirking them. “Law” means establishing standards and putting them into practice. Though law is not the subtle, great Dao, the world relies on it to establish order; therefore, follow the law, and affairs will not fall into disorder. Humaneness is a virtue that the exemplary person understands and puts into practice. Humaneness is close at hand, while righteousness is more distant; yet without righteousness, humaneness cannot be put into practice on its own. So even though righteousness is more distant, it must still be observed: do not emphasize righteousness alone and forget humaneness. Humaneness takes filial piety and fraternal respect as its foundation; righteousness consists in ensuring that things each receive their benefit. Righteousness has more distant ties, while humaneness draws close to one’s kin. Even tigers and wolves feel affection between parent and offspring, so merely remaining at the level of parental love does not count as the highest virtue. One’s conduct should be grounded in humaneness; one should not rely on ritual regulations alone to shape people’s hearts.

Every affair is handled in accordance with ritual, so ritual is indispensable. Conduct should accord with ritual, without concealment. De is something shared by everyone in their innate nature. If one does not understand the Way of Heaven, De will not be pure. Therefore, cultivate De without being burdened by external things. Nothing lies outside the Dao; for this reason, the myriad beings can return to unity. Yet the Dao does not change, and the myriad beings… (The original text ends here unfinished.)

Things are not fully adequate to meet all things, and so there is a way that arises from the Dao without deliberate planning. Wuwei (non-action) is how the Way of Heaven reveals its subtle wonders. If one also refrains from acting in particular ways, then Wuwei is no longer complete. Therefore, observe the Way of Heaven, but do not artificially help it along.

The earlier statements about “casting aside sagacity and wisdom, and rejecting benevolence and righteousness,” as well as destroying such minor things as tally tokens, seals, the dipper, and the steelyard, all aim to burn them up and break them apart completely, leaving no trace. But neither the subtle workings of the Way of Heaven nor the rough details of things and institutions can all be discarded indiscriminately. Why? The wonder of the Way of Heaven lies in this: with one breath, all things are filled; with one blow, all things are emptied. It brings things into being by relying on one and the same principle. Zhuangzi’s meaning is also this: the earlier passage speaks of a blow of breath, when all things are emptied; the present passage speaks of a breath drawn in, when all things are filled. In either case, the purpose is to bring things into being. This is probably what it means to discern the subtle wonders and enter the Way of Heaven.

The Dao is one. Without understanding the Way of Heaven, one cannot achieve pure Wuwei or bring one’s De (Virtue/Power) to completeness. In human affairs, there are things one can manage to do through effort. But when it comes to the Dao, the Way of Heaven and the human way are distinct; without understanding their principles, one cannot judge what is Wuwei and what is action. If this is so even for those who do not understand, what of those who do not know at all?

Wuwei allows all things to act of themselves; action compels all things to serve. The Way of Heaven is Wuwei and exalted, while the human way, which acts, makes humanity its highest concern. Because the human way acts, it also becomes entangled. Zhuangzi was not without experience of engaging deeply with the world and taking action, yet he repeatedly urged this course. Perhaps he had observed the principles governing the movements of Heaven and Earth, and the outcomes of success and failure in past and present, and knew that the key to gain and loss has always lain here.

The commentary by Yidu says: Even things of the lowest worth should not be prevented from fulfilling their own nature simply because they are lowly; even the common people, though low in status, should not be denied the chance to follow their natural ways. To despise things and not let them act naturally is as good as having no things at all. To look down on the people and not accommodate their ordinary nature is as good as having no people. Can the world really do without people and things?

If affairs are not managed, they will decay and be difficult to revive; if they are not contained and kept in reserve, they will become too conspicuous and harm the Dao. If laws and institutions are not simple and broad in outline, the people will have no way to understand them; if they are not set forth, the world will not stand in awe of them. Righteousness is like a road: though it may be far away, it can be traveled. Benevolence is like a dwelling: it is close at hand and offers a place to live. Yet people cannot do without dwelling in benevolence, because benevolence is indispensable. If benevolence is not broad, it cannot be extended widely to give and help the many; if it is not close at hand, it loses the graded affection owed to those near and dear. If ritual is not restrained, it becomes unbridled and loses its measure; if righteousness is not…

Daoist cultivation should begin with accumulation: when one’s accumulation is shallow, one’s De (Virtue/Power) is not deep; when one’s De is not lofty, one cannot distinguish oneself from ordinary people. If the mind does not remain centered and upright, one cannot attain fulfillment. Only by devoting oneself to the Dao can one enter into its patterns. The patterns of the Dao include both dispersal and transformation, and change without limit. If one does not understand the patterns of the Dao, a student cannot investigate them to their depths; if one assumes the Dao never changes, later generations will be confined by that view. If the Dao of Heaven does not operate with subtle power, its effects will not be fine and precise. Things cannot be brought to completion without action. This is what Mencius meant when he said, “One does not force things, yet they come to fruition of themselves.”

These ten points describe a progression from working with external things toward realizing fundamental principles. The sage follows the Dao of Heaven, observing the natural course of things without adding misguided assistance. De emerges from one’s nature; by following that nature, one brings things to fruition without treating them as a burden. “Planning” concerns particular affairs; only by being clear about the Dao can one respond to external things. “Convergence” means that things come together naturally, while “reliance” means that the mind depends on something. When one is in accord with benevolence and united with one’s nature, there is no need to rely on external things.

“Righteousness” means acting in accordance with the way things are; “taboo” means that one’s words and actions go against one’s own mind. De that is shallow and lacks accumulated substance cannot be called great righteousness. To follow ritual without going against one’s nature is to practice great ritual. Once a task is completed, one continues to attend to what follows without shirking; once laws are established, one brings them into orderly alignment without letting them fall into confusion. The people are the foundation of the state: one should rely on them and not treat them with contempt. The myriad things serve the state’s needs: one should follow their nature and not cast them aside. This passage explains how the sage, grounded in realization of fundamental principles, applies them step by step to particular affairs. The key is to let things follow their own course and to act in accordance with the situation.

The myriad things arise from the Dao, and the Dao runs through them all. The sage follows the Dao without being driven by external things, so each thing can follow its own course. Thus, nothing among the myriad things is worth stubbornly pursuing, yet one cannot simply refrain from all action. Xunzi said, “Those who understand things thoroughly can handle all kinds of things well; those who understand the Dao thoroughly can govern the myriad things.” His point is that one should understand the Dao deeply without being controlled by external things.

When the ancients discussed the Dao, they first explained the Dao of Heaven, then spoke of the Dao and De. Understanding the Dao of Heaven and then turning back to understand oneself allows one’s conduct to become pure and upright. Without access to the Great Dao, one will meet obstacles wherever one goes. When the Great Dao disperses, the Dao of Heaven and the human Dao become distinct: the ruler holds the highest position through Wuwei (non-action), while the minister below acts. The Dao of Heaven arises from nature, whereas human affairs are brought about through human action. There are indeed cases where human action does not accord with the Dao of Heaven, but the Dao of Heaven never appears apart from human affairs.

The Commentary on the Dao by Xiang Dao says: first there are the myriad things; then there are the people. Once there are people, there are affairs; once there are affairs, there are laws. Laws should be put into practice according to righteousness, and righteousness should be rooted in benevolence. Ritual regulates and refines benevolence and righteousness so that they reach the proper measure, but this process also depends on the cultivation of De.

“De” is what one attains within oneself: stable and unchanging. The “Dao,” by contrast, culminates in the realm of the wondrous and mysterious, yet this does not mean doing nothing at all. “Heaven” is reached by advancing from the human way to the Way of Heaven. When the Way of Heaven is put into practice in human affairs, De is attained within oneself. The Dao acts upon the myriad things, while the people each possess their own things; things, in turn, exist among the people.

Those who do not understand the Way of Heaven use human contrivances to harm what is natural, and so cannot preserve pure De. Those who do not grasp the Great Dao are thrown into disorder by affairs and cannot act on their own authority. If they cannot even act on their own authority, how could those who do not understand the Great Dao ever come to grasp it?

The root is above and the branches below; the essential matters belong to the ruler, while detailed tasks belong to the ministers. Thus, a good carpenter does not personally do the chopping and cutting, but knows how to use the axe. A skilled charioteer does not walk on foot himself, but knows how to handle the reins. Given this, how can a ruler manage specific tasks in the same way as a minister? And how can a minister have the same duties and De as a ruler?

The Jing says: “When a ruler of the world examines speech by the Dao, he will be upright; when he examines ability by the Dao, the officials of the world will govern well.” The ruler sits and deliberates on affairs of state, relying on words; the ministers carry out tasks in person, relying on their abilities. This is the difference between purposeful action and Wuwei (non-action).

Bixu’s commentary says: “There are no things that should be discarded; do not refuse to put something to use because it is lowly. There are no people who should be discarded; do not refuse to employ someone because their position is humble. Affairs may be open or concealed, but do not leave them outside the law because they are hidden. The value of ritual and righteousness lies in their being suited to the times; do not neglect to explain their principles because they are merely outward forms of conduct. The benevolent love people widely; do not show favoritism because some are near and others distant. Ritual can bring order to disorder; do not neglect to build it up in the name of restraint. Virtue may be higher or lower; do not stop striving for a higher state merely because the middle way is gentle and yielding. The Dao is empty, still, and without action; do not mistake ‘holding to the One’ for rigid immobility. The principle of Heaven unfolds naturally and is wondrous, yet it does not mean that nothing is done.”

Observe the Way of Heaven without presumptuously trying to help it along; follow the myriad things without forcibly abandoning them. This further explains the ten points given earlier. What is there to boast of in busily occupying oneself with external things? Yet as long as people live, there are things they need to do, so one cannot simply refrain from all action. Those who do not understand the principle of Heaven cling only to ritual rules and old precedents, and end up losing themselves amid external things. This will not work.

A ruler need not speak and personally handle every matter, yet occupies the honored position. Ministers take on affairs and occupy the lower position, and so are subordinate. A ruler should model himself on the Way of Heaven and govern through Wuwei; ministers, by contrast, have assigned duties and serve the ruler. The Way of Heaven and the human way differ in their labor and rest, and in their duties. If these distinctions are not clearly understood, and the responsibilities of those above and below are reversed, disorder will begin.

Yanzhai says that this passage shows how the subtle and the ordinary are not separate from one another.

The Dao is exalted, while the myriad things are lowly; but how could people cast aside all the myriad things? The Dao is exalted, while the people are lowly; how could a ruler leave the people behind? The Dao is clear in itself, yet when it is applied to concrete affairs, the principles of those affairs can easily be obscured. But how could people completely abandon worldly affairs? They cannot avoid taking action. The Dao is subtle, while rules and institutions are comparatively coarse; but how could all rules be abolished? One cannot avoid setting forth principles in words. Principles of right conduct may lead people farther from the Dao, but how could they be abandoned altogether? One cannot avoid practicing benevolence. Although benevolence is not the highest Dao, how could it be cast aside? One cannot avoid promoting ritual. Ritual has rules and formalities, and can seem to impose order on the world by force; even so, one cannot avoid cultivating De. De is something everyone can share, but in some respects one must stand firm on one’s own. Even while living in harmony with others, one must maintain one’s nobility.

To let everything follow its own nature is what is meant by the Dao; yet some circumstances call for change, so one must adapt. What cannot be known is called “Shen” (spirit). The workings of the Heavenly Dao are inherently hard to fathom, but worldly affairs still demand that people do their best, so some action is unavoidable. To observe the Heavenly Dao without deliberately helping it along, and to cultivate De without treating it as an accumulated merit by which to exalt oneself: these words describe acting without deliberate intent. To make no plans, keep no accounts, rely on nothing, and presume no credit for having shown kindness means to make oneself humble and not press upon others. If one merely accumulates without being able to transform what has been accumulated, one becomes obstructed; by not clinging to accumulation, one can transform it. To avoid neither taboo nor restriction, and not to retreat, means not to shrink back. To remain free of disorder carries the sense of simplicity and uprightness. The people may be relied upon, but one must not regard oneself as a burden on which they depend. External things may be put to use, but one must not turn away from the root and pursue only the branches.

From the earlier lines up to this point, the meaning has been fully stated. The text then introduces the phrase, “Nothing among things is worth doing, yet there are things one cannot avoid doing.” Here, “things” refers to the subtle Dao and to coarse affairs, encompassing all worldly matters. Seen from the heart-mind of the Dao, none of these affairs is worth clinging to; yet some cannot be left undone. These are matters that the human heart-mind must confront.

Yanzhai adds: “One who is not clear about Heaven is not pure in De.” Although worldly affairs cannot be avoided, one must understand the principles of nature in order to act appropriately. Without understanding the principles of Heaven and the natural Dao, one’s De will not be pure, nor will one be able to connect with the Dao. This is what it means to be unclear about Heaven; consequently, whatever one does will meet with obstruction. “To be honored without acting is the Heavenly Dao; to act and thereby become burdened is the human way”: what is naturally honored without deliberate action belongs to the Heavenly Dao; what involves action and consequently brings entanglement belongs to the human way. The first phrase speaks of the heart-mind of the Dao, the second of the human heart-mind. “Burden” is close in meaning to “danger.” The final phrase, “The ruler is Heaven…” appears to be incomplete in the original, and its meaning cannot be determined.

The Dao (the Way) takes the Dao-mind (the mind that realizes and follows the Dao) as master; the minister is subordinate to the human Dao, and its function is to make the human mind obey commands. The “ruler” and “minister” here are used to explain through relationships within the human body: in the Qiwu Lun (On the Equality of Things), Zhuangzi once compared different things to ruler and minister, each in turn occupying the dominant position. As for whether there is another true master among them, that is precisely the Dao spoken of here.

This passage begins with “the lowly cannot but be employed” and continues to the end of the chapter; what it reveals is an important guiding outline of the Zhuangzi, and it is connected with the main purport of the Tianxia (“Under Heaven”) chapter. Su Dongpo said that it is not only in the Tianxia chapter that Zhuangzi speaks of Confucius; in my view, Zhuangzi had long understood the principle that the refined and the coarse, the root and the branch, return to unity, and this meaning can also be seen in the present chapter.

This section first discusses employing things and accommodating the people, explaining that the noble must take the humble as its root and the high must take the low as its foundation. Then it speaks in turn of affairs, law, righteousness, benevolence, ritual propriety, and De (Virtue/Power): all these cannot but be put into practice, for they are the guiding norms of governance and order and cannot be dispensed with for even a day. Then it comes to the one and unchangeable “Dao”: once the Dao is established, the myriad affairs have a basis, and advancing and withdrawing, manipulating and controlling, are all grasped from this. Even if some of the eight items mentioned above are preserved and others abolished, the Dao is not harmed; the subtle function of the Dao lies even beyond these eight items. Finally it says that Shen (spirit) cannot be absent; here it means that everything comes forth from natural spontaneity.

Beginning with “observing Heaven,” the author reorganizes the ten items above, returning them to the common people and the myriad things, and further explains why these principles are so, so that learners may know what to rely on and uphold and will not remain vague and lacking a unifying order. Nothing is more subtle than the Dao, and nothing is more coarse and manifest than things. At the end of the chapter he further points out that among the myriad things there seems to be nothing that absolutely must be done, and yet nothing that can be entirely left undone; this shows how difficult it is for people to escape the entanglements of the myriad things. Nevertheless, as long as one understands Heavenly principle, penetrates the Dao, and makes one’s De pure, one need not deliberately reject external things; external things naturally cannot become a burden. Guan Yinzi said: “The sage does not remove external things; he removes only discriminating attachment to external things.” Only those who do not penetrate the Dao are burdened wherever they go.

There is only one Dao. Here again Heaven and human are distinguished in order to explain that ruler and minister each have their proper station, just as primordial Qi (vital energy) divides into Yin-Yang. Yin-Yang alternate in operation, and the Dao of Heaven and human affairs depend on each other; neither can be neglected. The statement that Heaven and human are “far apart” is made with respect to their different duties, and is used to remind those in the world who serve as ministers to keep well to their proper role. Who can say that the discussions in the Nanhua Zhenjing speak only of purity, stillness, and emptiness and have nothing to do with the way of governance?

The general meaning of the whole chapter is: when the gentleman has no choice but to govern the world, the best approach is Wuwei (non-action); therefore it opens with the word “Dao.”

Settling the people and treating them generously is the breadth of mind a ruler should have. Such a ruler never sets out with the deliberate intention of governing the people. When people are not naturally inclined to excess and their conduct does not readily change, the ruler can remain calm in anger and pleasure, and reward and punish with due measure. This follows the way the world naturally settles itself. There is no need to labor at governing, so the people readily comply and laws do not disturb their minds.

Later rulers lost the essentials of supporting the age and nurturing the people, and relied on rewards and punishments as their means of rule. Above them stood the judgments of Confucians, Mohists, and figures such as Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu, each insisting on one side; below them were the restraints of instruments of torture and penal laws. The rulers were then worn out with exertion, while the people no longer knew how to act. Even so, they continued to believe that benevolence, righteousness, sagacity, and wisdom were enough to penetrate the minds of all under Heaven. They honored and cherished these doctrines, passed them down from generation to generation, and made them models for the state, never realizing that they were precisely what disturbed the people. This is why the Nanhua Zhenjing (the Zhuangzi) advocates abandoning such practices.

If matters are indeed as the book says, then what the world entrusts itself to, and where profound, unfathomable principles reveal themselves, has its own Dao. Government will not fall into disorder, and people’s minds will not decay. One need only proceed calmly in Wuwei (non-action), allowing all things to grow and change of themselves. Why be in such a hurry to govern the world?

The book then has Cui Qu ask a question in order to clarify Lao Dan’s central teaching: rulers err by disturbing people’s minds. Instruments of torture and punishments arise from this, and it gives people like Jie and Zhi an opening. Thus the Yellow Emperor sought the Dao from Guangchengzi on Kongtong Mountain. Guangchengzi taught him the essentials of holding fast to the spirit, setting the body aright, and attaining stillness and long life. Cultivating oneself is fundamental; governing one’s family and state comes after. There has never been a case in which a person who has put himself in order caused his state to fall into chaos. If rulers today would diligently practice Guangchengzi’s teachings, the well-ordered governance of the Three Dynasties would not be difficult to restore. Let Heaven and Earth each fulfill their functions, and Yin-Yang follow their proper courses: all of this is contained within my Wuwei. This is the principle of “preserving and nurturing” (allowing things to unfold naturally).

Hongmeng tells Yun Jiang to relax the body, put aside the acuity of ear and eye, and hold fast to the root without departing from it. This concerns the way of cultivating oneself. At the end, the text discusses the relations between ruler and subject and the systems of ritual and law, leaving almost nothing out. It also examines the difference between the Way of Heaven and the way of humanity, and between action and Wuwei. Though the two may seem far apart on the surface, when they arise from the heart and take shape in conduct, their foundations are one. The book uses these distinctions simply to show that ruler and subject each have their proper place, and to set each on the right course of action.

The Taishang (here referring to the Daodejing) says: “Only by being impartial and selfless can one become a king; only by becoming a king can one accord with Heaven; only by according with Heaven can one accord with the Dao.”

Collected Subtle Commentaries on the Meaning of the Nanhua Zhenjing, Volume Thirty-Three.