《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 33

Although Heaven and Earth are vast, their transformations follow one principle. Although the myriad things are numerous, their governance shares a common foundation. Although the people are many, the ruler is the one who leads them.

The ruler takes De (Virtue/Power) as the foundation, and De follows the Dao of Heaven. Thus, when the rulers of ancient times governed the world, they did not act deliberately but simply followed Heaven’s De. Observe words through the Dao, and the legitimacy of the rulers of the world becomes clear. Observe titles and positions through the Dao, and the duties between ruler and minister become clear. Examine abilities through the Dao, and the offices of the world can be properly administered. Survey the myriad things broadly through the Dao, and every matter can be met in the way suited to it.

De pervades Heaven and Earth; the Dao moves among the myriad things. What governs people from above is administration; what involves a particular skill is a craft. Crafts are contained within administration, administration within moral duty, moral duty within De, and De within the Dao; the Dao, in turn, follows Heaven. Thus, those skilled at governing the world in ancient times did not covet, and the world was well supplied. They did not act recklessly, and the myriad things transformed of themselves. Their minds were still and deep, and the people were at peace. An ancient text says: “Understand the One, and all things can be handled; harbor no selfish thoughts, and even the spirits will show respect.”

Guo Xiang, a philosopher of the Wei-Jin period, comments: “Heaven and Earth do not act deliberately, and the myriad things transform of themselves. Each thing rests in what it has received, and this gives rise to unified governance. People throughout the world have different thoughts, so they need an impartial person to serve as their ruler. Take De as the foundation, and each thing can find its proper place. If what is received is not lost, the Dao of Heaven can be fulfilled.”

For a ruler to practice Wuwei (non-action) is to let the natural course of things unfold. To rule by following nature is not a wayward act. Each person properly carries out their own responsibilities; the ruler occupies a position of non-action, while ministers handle specific affairs. Officials, too, can govern well by drawing on their respective abilities. When the ruler practices Wuwei, all under Heaven respond in kind. When everything finds its proper place, the Dao of Heaven and Earth flows freely. The myriad things each follow their own nature, and everyone does what falls within their responsibility; specialized skills then need not be imposed by force.

Root and branch are connected, like arms embracing the body. When the body is in harmony, all its joints move freely. When the Dao of Heaven proceeds smoothly, root and branch alike unfold and flow freely. The ruler sits quietly, his robes hanging loosely and his hands folded, practicing Wuwei, while the people live in peace and contentment. This shows that when the ruler practices non-action, every principle of governance can be put into effect.

Lü Huiqing, a scholar of the Northern Song, comments: “Heaven and Earth are vast, and the transformations of the myriad things are endless. Though things are constantly changing, change itself is not the source of their transformation. The transformations of the myriad things can be brought into unity by no longer distinguishing between great and small, beautiful and ugly, or long and short. The Dao gives rise to the One, which develops into the myriad things…”

Govern by following nature, and all things will return to their own roots, without realizing that this is precisely what good governance means. Though the people are many, if the ruler who leads them takes De (Virtue/Power) as the foundation and brings instruction into accord with the balance of Heaven and Earth, governance can return all things to unity. Both of these states are called “mystery”—the profound and subtle principle of the Dao.

The ancient rulers who governed the world practiced Wuwei (non-action) and did no more than follow Heaven’s De. When a ruler truly governs the world in accord with the Dao, is there any thing that cannot be transformed by instruction? Viewed from the standpoint of the Dao, speech is seen never to have truly spoken. Even when it opens its mouth, it is as though it has said nothing. How could a ruler of the world fail to be upright? Viewed from the standpoint of the Dao, distinctions of rank become clear: the one who practices Wuwei is ruler, and the one who acts is minister. How could the duties between ruler and minister be unclear? Viewed from the standpoint of the Dao, there is neither ability nor inability. How could the officials of the world fail to govern well? Viewed broadly from the standpoint of the Dao, there is nothing among the myriad things that is not the Dao. How could their responses ever be incomplete?

Heaven and Earth became what they are simply by attaining the Dao. If a person can attain the Dao, their De will accord with Heaven and Earth, and all things can be said to have come into being through my Dao. The Dao is the root of all things, and so its reach is vast. Those in high positions use the Dao to govern the people, but this amounts only to handling affairs; to have a particular skill is simply to have mastered a craft. Skills are contained within affairs, affairs within moral principles, moral principles within De, De within the Dao, and the Dao accords with Heaven. This is in keeping with reason. If one truly understands that all things are encompassed by Heaven, then what place do skills and particular affairs have in governing the world? Thus, the world’s abundance, the people’s transformation, and the peace of their hearts all depend on me. This is because one who has penetrated the Way of Unity attains a state free of intention and action. There is nothing among the myriad affairs that does not arise from the Way of Unity; even the efficacy of spirits and ghosts comes only from my mind.

Lin Yidu’s commentary: All things are born from Heaven and Earth, and among them, human beings are the most spiritually perceptive. Heaven and Earth are not separate from their physical forms, while human forms are manifold and beyond counting; yet the only thing all beings jointly revere is the Dao. What is meant by balanced instruction is described in the Book of Changes: “It encompasses the transformations of Heaven and Earth, leaving nothing out.” What is meant by governance returning to unity is also described in the Book of Changes: “The changes of all things under Heaven all return to the proper way.” A ruler is one of the few whom all the people revere. In governing all things, the ruler should take De as the foundation and ultimately fulfill it in accordance with Heaven. “Mystery” is where number and principle originate. Yang Xiong held that “One Mystery” gives rise to the “Threefold Mystery” …

The rulers spoken of by the ancients were those who ruled before the Three Sovereigns. They governed through Wuwei (non-action), and it was precisely this that enabled them to accord with Heaven’s De (Virtue/Power).

Those in positions above acted without imposing themselves, issuing only the commands needed to put those below in order. Those below, in turn, devoted themselves fully to serving those above. Viewed in light of the Dao, the rulers of the world could understand the principles behind their decrees and establish systems; this was called “distinction.” Taking goodness as the standard to be honored was called “rightness.” Rulers used a few to govern the many, assigning differences and rules to status and labor. Viewed in light of the Dao, the principles of this “rightness” become clear.

When ability is assessed in light of the Dao, the offices of the world can be properly governed. As Mencius said, “Those with ability should hold the positions suited to them.” This is what he meant. Viewed from the wholeness of the Dao, the responses and transformations of all things each find their proper place. Though paths may differ, they ultimately converge; though reflections may be many, their underlying principle is one. This, too, is what he meant.

The Dao has a root and branches: the “root” is establishing fundamental nature, while the “branches” are the expression of practical functions. Zhuangzi wandered beyond the ordinary world not because his words were excessively lofty, but because he focused on establishing fundamental nature. When he later discussed four ways of observing and entered the ordinary world, it was not because his words were too shallow, but because he focused on expressing practical functions.

That which pervades Heaven and Earth is called De; that which extends throughout all things is called the Dao. Adapting to circumstances and governing people is the flexible understanding of practical affairs; having expertise in a particular area is merely a skill. Skill is a branch of practical affairs, so it is included within them. Practical affairs are a branch of rightness, so they are included within rightness. De, in turn, is included within the Dao, and the Dao is included within Heaven. These are all relationships in which root and branch depend on one another.

Thus, those who governed the world in ancient times understood skills from the lowest level upward, and the Way of Heaven from the highest level downward. The people and things of the world were numerous and vast, yet each was fulfilled and settled in its own way and transformed naturally. Their foundation lay solely in Heaven’s Wuwei. Such a ruler was perceptive enough to manage all affairs and profound enough to command the trust of ghosts and spirits.

Chen Xiangdao’s commentary says: Heaven and Earth are immensely vast, yet their transformations proceed in balanced movement through Wuwei. The myriad things are immensely numerous, yet their ordering likewise reaches a balanced state in which each finds its proper place. Can a ruler governing the people ultimately depart from this principle? A ruler takes his stand on the inner foundation, yet cannot help but make his De bright and eminent; De comes to fruition in what is mysterious, yet cannot help but be expressed through the Way of Heaven. In doing so, he is not, in essence, deliberately imposing his will.

Therefore, those who governed the world through the Dao in ancient times simply let things follow their natural course. A ruler made use of the world through decrees; ministers served the world through their abilities. The relationship between ruler and minister had its own rightness, and things responded to one another in their interactions. Yet if decrees do not accord with the Dao, they cannot bring order; if abilities do not accord with the Dao, affairs cannot be properly governed; if systems do not accord with the Dao, they cannot be made clear; and the responses of things…

As long as one does not depart from the Dao, everything revealed in everyday words and actions is Dao.

Each craft has its limits, and each skill has its specialty. Skills are applied to particular tasks, and principle is present in them, because tasks contain principle. Principle, in turn, is contained within De, and the Dao is revealed there, because De contains the Dao. When one understands how root and branch, the refined and the coarse, run through one another, one sees that even the smallest grasses and bits of broken tile embody the Dao. People and all things alike receive their endowment from the Way of Heaven. What more could someone who occupies the position of ruler under Heaven seek elsewhere? It is enough to put this principle into practice and use it to nurture all things.

For people’s desires to have nothing they covet, their actions to follow what is natural without forcing things, and their temperaments to be deep and tranquil—all require a mind free of attachment to private intentions. Thus, the unified Dao always encompasses the myriad things, while the myriad things, in all their profusion, can always return to unity. An ancient text says, “One who knows the One can know everything; one who does not know the One cannot truly know anything.” This is why the sage holds fast to the One and becomes a model for the world. When lords and kings attain the Dao, they can become the world’s true way. Acting without a self-centered mind and following what is natural, they will be revered even by spirits and gods. This is entirely as it should be.

Chen Bixu’s commentary: Heaven and Earth have no private intentions, and so they can impartially transform and nurture all things. Each thing grows and changes in its own way, thereby revealing the unified root. People each have their own responsibilities; only the ruler should practice Wuwei, making it fundamental not to claim virtue for himself, so that things may come to completion naturally.

Viewed from the Way of Nature, the world’s teachings and forms of instruction work as follows: when stillness and Wuwei are prized, the ruler can be upright; when each person keeps to their duties and does not overstep their authority, the moral relationship between ruler and ministers becomes clear; when abilities match positions, government affairs can be properly managed; and when all things are examined so that each is put to use as it suits it, every undertaking is in order.

The Dao is empty, still, and open, rising up to encompass all things. De is gentle and responsive, receiving the Dao and flowing downward. Rightness circulates among all things. Affairs respond to the needs of governance and operate among people. Crafts and skills are exercised according to people’s abilities. When skills are applied to affairs, those affairs can be managed; when affairs accord with rightness, they are appropriate; when rightness is integrated with De, it flows smoothly; when De connects with the Dao, it reaches through all things; and when the Dao accords with Heaven, it accords with nature.

The three statements beginning “When there is no desire, the world is sufficient” come from the Dao De Jing: “When there is no desire, the people naturally become simple and sincere; when there is Wuwei, the people are naturally transformed; when stillness is prized, the people naturally become upright.” When these three ideas are brought together and return to what is true and undivided, nothing will be impossible to accomplish, and there will be no spirits or gods who do not show reverence.

Lin Shiyanzhai’s Oral Commentary says: The equal transformation and nurturing of the myriad things all arise from their sharing the same source in primordial Qi. Though the myriad things are many, they have only one governing principle: creation and transformation. As for the many people, what governs them… (The original text ends here.)

These matters are presided over by the ruler alone. Heaven endows people with natural De (Virtue/Power); human effort cannot add anything beyond it. If the ruler can understand and follow this, he can practice Wuwei (non-action) and let things proceed naturally, in accord with the De of Heaven. “Mysterious and far-reaching” means deep and enduring; “mysterious antiquity” means the distant past. Once someone is called a ruler, the distinctions of status in the world are established. When these distinctions are set, the duties between ruler and subjects take shape, and the ranks of high and low, noble and humble, become clear.

The affairs of the world cannot all be completed by one person. Each person should be allowed to fulfill their duties according to their abilities. People have particular abilities because Heaven has endowed them with them. Nothing among the myriad things has ever existed in isolation: above and below, before and after, each has its counterpart and responds to the other. All this arises naturally. Heaven covers and brings forth the myriad things; Earth bears them and gives them form. Together they embody the same De. Thus each thing has its own way of following what is natural.

The rites and music, punishments, and government orders through which a ruler governs the world are all specific affairs. Each affair has its own specialized arts and occupations; assigning work according to ability is a human skill. De is subtle, while practical affairs and skills are more apparent. Yet both the subtle and the apparent arise naturally. Skills belong to affairs; affairs embody arts; arts embody De; De connects with the Dao (the Way); and the Dao accords with Heaven. “Jian” means joining two things as one. The character “yi” is pronounced like “yi,” meaning “art”; the written form here is mistaken.

The Chu family’s Guanjian says: Heaven and Earth are vast, and the myriad beings are numerous. Their transformations and the ordering of them involve countless complexities, yet it is the ruler who presides over the affairs of the world. Can it be mere chance that the ruler appears in response to the age? His foundation lies in De. The myriad things cannot come to fulfillment apart from Heaven, and people naturally turn toward him. The principle is subtle and hard to express, so it is provisionally called “mysterious.”

Thus, when the rulers of antiquity governed the world, they ruled through Wuwei. Their De accorded with nature, and so they endured and flourished. Their words and commands were obeyed. If one measures speech by the Dao, then speech that accords with the Dao keeps the ruler from going astray. If one measures status by the Dao, then status that accords with the Dao makes the duties between ruler and subjects clear. If one measures ability by the Dao, then when ability matches responsibility, official positions are properly administered. If one observes the myriad things through the Dao, each finds its proper place and responses can be made to every circumstance.

From this we can see that things in the world cannot exist independently if they are separated from the Dao. De can connect with Heaven and Earth because it accords with them; the Dao can be put into practice among the myriad things because it runs through them. In governing the people, even when punishments, government orders, rewards, and penalties are applied to their fullest, this is still only the handling of affairs. If arts and abilities are then applied to particular skills, one moves still farther from the Dao and De. Those of antiquity who were skilled at governing the world…

There is no other reason: it is simply that, when there are no selfish desires, all under Heaven is naturally content. When nothing is done deliberately, the myriad things transform of themselves. The human heart is still like the water in a deep pool; even when stirred, it does not grow cloudy. How could the people then be unsettled?

An old book also says, “Grasp the One, and all affairs can be accomplished.” These were the words Lao Jun (Laozi) gave Yin Xi as he traveled west. When the heart clings to nothing, even spirits and ghosts stand in awe. This is precisely what the Book of Changes says: “Heaven does not oppose him; how much less would people, and how much less spirits and ghosts?”

Confucius said: “The Dao covers and sustains the myriad things, vast beyond measure! A noble person must make the heart empty and clear. To act through Wuwei is to follow the way of Heaven; to speak through Wuwei is De. To care for people and benefit the myriad things is benevolence. Not forcing things that differ from one another into sameness is greatness. Acting without making distinctions a boundary is breadth. That the myriad things are each different is abundance. Thus, to preserve De is called the guiding principle; to fulfill De is called establishing oneself; to follow the Dao is called completeness; and to keep external things from wounding the will is called wholeness.

“When a noble person understands these ten principles, the heart can contain all things, and one’s actions can let the myriad things develop of themselves. Such a person hides gold in the mountains and pearls in the depths; does not covet possessions or draw close to wealth and rank; takes no pleasure in longevity and feels no grief over an early death; regards prominence as no honor and hardship as no disgrace. Such a person does not claim the gains of a lifetime as their own, nor regard ruling all under Heaven as a position of distinction. When prominent, they can see through the myriad things and regard them as one body; facing life and death, they see them as one and the same state.”

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “Clinging in the heart obstructs what is natural, so one should empty the heart and remove attachment. It is not that a matter is accomplished because one deliberately sets out to do it; when one does not set out to do it, the matter is accomplished of itself. This is the way of Heaven. It is not that words have meaning because one deliberately sets out to say them; when one does not set out to speak, words flow forth of themselves. This is true De.

“To care for and benefit the myriad things is to follow their respective natures and destinies. The myriad things take different forms, and each rests in its proper place; not demanding that another be the same as oneself—this is greatness. Truly understanding their underlying unity makes it possible to contain the myriad things. Nothing is absolutely different from oneself, and so one can embody these virtues alone. De is the fundamental principle of a person; without De, an achievement cannot be called ‘established.’ The Dao does not cling to any one thing, so the heart is at ease in itself. When the heart is vast, nothing lies beyond its capacity to contain. With an open heart, one can let the myriad things come and go as they naturally will.

“Only by not valuing rare things can one forget oneself—how much more so when it comes to possessions? Wealth and rank are merely external circumstances in which a person dwells; the heart should always keep its distance from them. To set aside both longevity and early death is to be released from bondage—how much more so the changes between hardship and prominence? By not claiming worldly gains as one’s own, but letting the myriad things develop as they will, one becomes so fully absorbed that one does not notice honor settling upon oneself.”

When it does not show itself, it falls silent and stops; it sheds its form and departs, and no one knows where it is.

Commentary by Lü: The Dao is vast in this way. Unless the heart is hollowed out, one cannot fully experience it. Embody the Dao and practice Wuwei (non-action), and you can follow nature without being constrained by external things. To care for and benefit others with this state of mind is called “benevolence.” To attain a state of unity and free flow through this is called “great conduct.” To avoid opposing the ways of the world is to reach the utmost tolerance; to embrace all things in their differences is to reach the utmost abundance. Those who hold fast to De (Virtue/Power) can grasp one principle that runs through and governs all things, like a cord that holds together the framework of a net. Once De is realized, one can stand on one’s own without depending on external things. With the Dao within, one can meet every circumstance and lack nothing. Nothing can unsettle such a person; this is called completeness.

A gentleman practices “hollowing the heart”—removing selfish desires and making the heart empty and still—for these ten reasons. He turns inward to understand the heart’s vastness. When nothing lies beyond what the heart can contain, this is the result of hollowing it out. Then the heart’s Qi (vital energy) becomes abundant, able to move with all things, flowing everywhere without obstruction.

If one reaches this state, one would not regard wealth and possessions as worth pursuing, even if gold and pearls were hidden in deep mountain valleys. One would not rejoice in longevity or resent an early death. One would not claim the benefits of an age for oneself, but leave them for all under Heaven; ruling all under Heaven would not be one’s destination. The advantages of high rank are not what one values. In a prominent position, one brings De’s radiance to the world rather than relying on one’s status. To occupy the highest place is the De of an emperor or Son of Heaven; to occupy a lower place is the way of the Mysterious Sage or Plain King—one who has sagehood but does not sit on the throne. When all things are present within me, they become one. To be alive is also to be dying; to be dying is also to be alive. Life and death are, at their root, one and the same state.

Commentary by Yidu: “Hollowing the heart” means removing desire and making the heart empty and still. “Action” belongs to human effort; Wuwei belongs to the Way of Heaven. The sun, moon, and stars move in the sky; birds and beasts, plants and trees, move upon the earth. When they change, they do not know why they change; when they act, they do not know why they act. This is acting without action, naturally and spontaneously. When a sage speaks, it is because circumstances leave no choice; this is speaking without action.

“Heaven” refers to nature; “De” is what each thing receives for itself. Caring for and benefiting others is expressed as benevolence; being able to connect with all things is expressed as vastness. Tolerance means being able to contain things that cannot be restrained or confined. Abundance means having a wide capacity to embrace. Only by holding fast to De without straying from it can one establish oneself. Only by bringing all things together under guiding principles while remaining open and far-reaching can one establish De. By following the Dao, one can be complete in every respect. If external things cannot wound one’s resolve, then nothing will be lost.

Understand these ten aspects, and the heart will contain all things, engaging abundantly with them. Joy comes from within; how could wealth and rank then unsettle you?

Longevity or premature death, poverty or distinction—these are merely minor matters outside oneself. Thus one does not regard worldly benefits as things worth claiming for oneself, nor regard the world as a secure support on which to rely. If one considers oneself distinguished, one’s mind becomes clear; if one is not distinguished, it becomes clouded. Yet the sun and moon continue on their courses as before. All things exist within a single whole, and life and death are only changes of form. To accord mysteriously with Creation—the natural patterns of change—is something only those who have realized the Great Dao can do.

Xiangdao’s commentary says: The principles of all things are present within me. To understand them and never lose them is to be called wealthy. When the guiding order falls into disarray, people’s vision becomes confused; when De is lost, their conduct goes astray. Thus, to act in accord with the Great Dao is called being complete, while not allowing external things to wound the will is called being whole. To keep matters hidden deep within is to have a broad mind; to hold fast to the “Great Image”—the whole form of the Great Dao—is to become abundant and expansive. The Great Dao moves among all things, and each thing returns to its proper place. This is what is meant by “the whole world comes to it.”

In ancient times, those who governed the world through the Dao left no trace of deliberate contrivance and issued no commands through words. They allowed people to understand naturally. Those above guided those below without using alluring sights and sounds or bait to captivate them; those below drew near to those above without seeking gain like beasts and birds drawn by the smell of meat. They did not hide gold and pearls in mountain valleys and deep ravines as treasure, nor let external things burden them. They did not concern themselves with long or short lives, or with favorable or adverse fate, and did not abandon the Great Dao in order to preserve themselves. However abundant the gains of a lifetime, they did not claim them as private possessions; however great the power of the world, they did not use it to exalt themselves. In the end, they were no different from the myriad things, and life and death could not change them. Could such a person not be free of selfishness and desire?

Bixu’s commentary says: The words at the beginning that address the “Master” come from Zhuangzi’s receiving the subtle teachings of Master Changsang. The Great Dao flows expansively, filling Heaven and Earth; only a quiet and empty mind can contain it. Cultivate yourself until you accord with the natural Dao. Keep the mind centered and upright, and your words and actions will remain free of discouragement. When facing life and death and dealing with others, your resolve does not falter. You do not suspect or reject what others dislike. You restrain your sharpness, blend into the common world, and show no hard edges. Let all things grow and flourish in their own way, and let the whole world share in abundance. Take the Highest De as your guiding principle, establish order through the highest principles, and follow the constant Dao without straying into perversity. Keep your distance from external temptations and preserve the clarity within. By cultivating your nature in this way, you can contain all affairs, principles, and blessings, allowing each thing to find its proper place. Gold, pearls, and material wealth are sources of calamity; long or short life, poverty or distinction, bring inner distress; partiality and elevated status are ailments of the will. So long as the mind is attached to something, it cannot remain whole.

Yanzhai says: “Hollowing the mind” means removing the mind governed by perception and distinction.

What one has “gained” for oneself is called De (Virtue/Power). When it is described in terms of Wuwei (non-action), it is called “non-being.” Viewed from their differences, all things are distinct; viewed from what they share, they can be said to be the same. The boundary of this “sameness amid difference” is precisely where distinctions appear.

All things are different, yet I can embrace and possess them all; this is called “abundance.” The De one upholds has its own order; this is called “guiding principle” or “order.” When De stands out and establishes itself, that is De brought to fruition. By following the Dao (the Way), one can make every aspect complete. External things cannot unsettle the heart, and the De one possesses is therefore whole.

Understand these ten principles, and one can embrace all things and gather them into the heart. The heart’s expanse then has no bounds. With a vast and open mind, one can change and move along with all things. To store gold, jade, and pearls deep in the mountains and rivers is to store wealth in the world. One does not regard long life or early death, hardship or success, as honor or disgrace, nor claim temporary gain as one’s own. It is like the saying, “A person loses a bow, and someone else finds it; the bow is still among the people.” Even if one rules the world, one does not consider oneself noble or exalted; the emperor’s splendid carriage and yellow-covered canopy are not what the heart seeks. Clear insight within illuminates Heaven and Earth: this is true distinction. Thus, ruling the world is not treated as a mark of eminence. All things gather into one, so the world is like a single storehouse; the changes of life and death cannot alter oneself, so life and death are one, with no fundamental difference.

Heaven and Earth cannot, by themselves, cover and bear all things; it is the Dao that enables them to do so. A sage cannot, by their own power, act or speak; it is the Dao that enables them to act and speak. The Dao is vast and boundless, present everywhere. But unless one empties the heart and lets it become still, one cannot contain the Dao. When the chamber of the heart is empty and still, light appears. This is what is meant by “when the room is empty, light is born.”

The Way of Heaven acts through Wuwei and follows its own nature. If people act with Wuwei, they accord with the Way of Heaven. To speak with Wuwei is to put into practice outwardly the Dao one has attained; this benefit to others is called “benevolence.” Though things differ, seeing them all with the same eye makes what one can embrace expansive. If one’s conduct does not set itself apart from the myriad things, how could it fail to be broad? All things have their own functions, yet can return to unity and be embraced by me; this may be called abundance.

To uphold De still seems to rely on something. Once De is truly accomplished, there is no need to uphold it deliberately. De must have order before anything can be established. When one follows the Dao and reaches completeness, who among the myriad things could thwart this aspiration? Truly understanding these principles, the heart can contain all things and move forward alongside them. The transformations of things have no end, and neither do I as I follow them. This is called “becoming one with transformation.” Such a person can transform others.

If gold, jade, and pearls are no longer regarded as useful things and are stored deep in the mountains and rivers; if goods and wealth are treated as things outside oneself, then how could long life or early death, hardship or success, become sources of worry?

Not claiming worldly benefits for oneself is forgetting profit; not treating rule over the world as a way to glorify oneself is forgetting fame. What he brings to light, however, is the understanding that all things return to a single whole, and that life and death are no different in their condition. When all things return to one, there is no distinction between self and other. When life and death are regarded alike, one is not burdened by the changes of coming and going. Could this be the utmost degree of “hollowing out the heart”—stripping away private desires and preconceptions so the heart-mind is empty and still?

Guo Xiang reads “What he brings to light is understanding” as a complete sentence, and many later commentators follow this punctuation. But it seems not to connect smoothly with what follows. Mr. Fan Wuyin joins it to the next passage, producing a longer sense. The punctuation adopted here follows Mr. Fan.

Collected Subtle Commentaries on the True Classic of the Southern Flower, juan 34

Collected Subtle Commentaries on the True Classic of the Southern Flower, juan 35, “Form IV”

Composed by the Daoist priest Chu Boxiu of Wulin

Heaven and Earth, Part Two

Confucius said: “The Dao is profound and unfathomable; its clarity is pure and bright as water. Metal and stone make no sound unless something touches them from outside. Though they can produce sound, they will not ring unless struck. Among the myriad things, who can determine their nature?

“A person endowed with the Virtue of a king follows their nature and does not concern himself with understanding the affairs of the world. When he establishes the root, his wisdom can reach the wondrous. Thus his Virtue is vast. What appears in his heart-mind is brought forth by the stimulation of external things; it does not issue commands to the myriad things in advance. So, without the Dao, a body cannot come into being; without De, life cannot be made manifest. To preserve the body, fulfill life, establish De, and illuminate the Dao—is this not what it means to be endowed with the Virtue of a king?

“His Virtue is boundless and vast, seeming to appear without intent, then flourishing into action, so that the myriad things move along with it. This is called being endowed with the Virtue of a king. From what is obscure and difficult to discern, he sees what is clear; amid silence, he alone hears harmony. He penetrates ever deeper, and so can bring forth the myriad things; he is wondrous beyond measure, and so can make things subtle. Thus, when he meets the myriad things, he reaches a state of emptiness and non-attachment while meeting their needs. He follows the times and brings each thing to rest in its own place. Whether great or small, long or short, near or far…”

Guo Xiang’s commentary: Sound becomes manifest through silence. This principle serves as a metaphor for a person who embodies the Dao: when something external stirs him, he responds; he follows his nature and does not deliberately seek to understand the affairs of the world. When the root is established, wisdom can reach through without going against the principle of things, and De becomes all the more vast. The heart-mind appears in response to the stimulation of external things; it does not take the initiative and set things in motion beforehand. “Suddenly” and “flourishing” both describe how he responds to things without intent. Thus he can preserve the body, fulfill life, establish De, and illuminate the Dao, becoming one endowed with the Virtue of a king. If wondrous hearing cannot rest in silence, it will be clouded and unable to hear harmony. Therefore, one must trace things back to their source, and then…

Only by being able to act upon the myriad things, fathom their natures, and reach a state of complete accord with them can one then exhaust the principles of subtlety. I have indeed come to this understanding and settled into it; then all affairs can proceed smoothly.

Let things develop according to their own conditions. Allow each to fulfill what it seeks, and follow the course of nature, letting it run its course until each thing reaches its limit.

Commentary by Lü: “Deep, how it dwells” refers to the Dao as profound and still; “clear, how it shines” refers to the Dao as open and unclouded. That is simply how the Dao is. If one says it is “nonbeing,” then metal and stone would make no sound without being struck. If one says it is “being,” then metal and stone would still make no sound before they are struck.

Who can determine in advance the original state of the myriad things? The Dao moves along with them, and there is nowhere it is not present. When one understands particular affairs, the principles and circumstances of the myriad things become clear. When one understands the wondrous realm—that is, the root of the Dao—one encompasses all things without omission. Why seek only to understand particular affairs? The root lies in the Dao; particular affairs are merely its branches. Grounded in the root, the Dao embraces all affairs, and they naturally become clear.

The mind is not drawn along by external things; it simply rests in stillness and stability. It does not deliberately welcome or dismiss, nor does it retain in the mind what it has already responded to. Hearing with the ears, seeing with the eyes, speaking with the mouth, and thinking with the mind are all workings of the Dao. Thus, without the Dao, the body could not come into being. Though we use the Dao in daily life without knowing it, we could not understand it unless it were within us. Without De, life could not become manifest. Only by nurturing the body, investigating life, establishing De, and understanding the Great Dao can one find the Dao within oneself and hold fast to the ancient Dao in governing affairs of the present. When one suddenly acts, the myriad things move along with one. This is the natural gathering of the spirit and accord with things, not the result of deliberate striving or planning.

Though the Dao cannot be seen, it is the source from which sight arises; though it cannot be heard, it is the source from which hearing arises. It is far-reaching and gives life to the myriad things, with a real efficacy at its core. It is wondrous and gathers what is subtle, with subtle substance at its heart. The Dao is utterly empty, yet it can meet the needs of all things; it is therefore like Heaven’s treasury, abundant without end. The myriad things unfold and grow in their own time, and in the end each returns to where it is at rest. Whether great or small, short or long, each receives its allotted share in full. This is the principle expressed in the I Ching: “Each finds its nature and destiny rightly ordered, and preserves and sustains the Great Harmony.”

Commentary by Yidu: “Deep, how it dwells” refers to the deepest realm beneath Heaven; “clear, how it shines” refers to the purest realm beneath Heaven. Here, deep water is used to explain the Dao. Metal and stone make a sound only when struck; the key is the striking itself. Sound emerges from silence, and the echo answers the blow. The Dao is so profoundly deep that it cannot be fathomed. Who, then, can determine the myriad things? The Dao moves in accordance with circumstances, embracing simplicity as it proceeds, and is therefore not burdened by affairs. Affairs are branches of the Dao; the wondrous is its root. It abandons the branches and establishes the root; therefore, its De…

Drawing broadly on the words of all things, he follows their lead without taking the initiative to promote them. Form cannot generate itself; the Dao generates it. Form cannot perceive clearly by itself; De enables it to perceive. Through the Dao, form is able to act. By probing life to establish De, one can fulfill one’s nature.

Thus, whenever the Sage acts, all things respond. This is the De of a ruler. To see clearly in darkness and distance, and to hear harmony in silence, is the utmost expression of the Dao.

He is therefore deep enough to contain all things and wondrous enough to reach the finest subtleties. When responding to all things, his mind is empty, yet he can meet their needs. At times he moves freely among them, yet always keeps hold of where they return. This is why the Dao is inexhaustible.

The Commentary on the Detailed Dao says: The Dao is wondrous through stillness and clarity; without a stimulus, it does not respond. Metal and stone can sound because they are firm and still; without being struck, they do not ring. The Dao’s responses are the mutual transformations and shifts of all things, without any fixed direction. The sounds of metal and stone, by contrast, are the alternating changes of the five notes, continuing without end. Who could fix all this in place?

To understand all things may mean losing oneself; to refuse affairs may mean losing one’s grasp of them. The Sage follows all things without taking pleasure in doing so, and responds to affairs without daring to refuse them. Thus he can be at rest and can respond. It is like fire hidden in wood: without drilling, it does not appear; or water in the earth: without digging, it does not flow out. The effects of water and fire can extend throughout the world simply because they respond to things. Laozi said, “Know the masculine, keep to the feminine.” This describes a mind stirred into response by what it encounters.

People do not understand this principle. They busily turn all things into their own affairs: they make reputation their master, schemes their storehouse, and take every task and responsibility, every clever device and authority, into their own hands. In the end, this disrupts the natural order and goes against the nature of things. They can no longer even recognize themselves. How can this fail to bring sorrow?

Preserving form and probing life does not mean forgetting form and life; but to forget them, one must begin by preserving and probing them. Establishing De and making the Dao clear does not mean forgetting the Dao and De; to reach a state beyond them, one must begin by establishing and making them clear. In this way, the Sage need not act deliberately to be in accord with the people. Good fortune, misfortune, and disaster cannot trouble him. When he suddenly rises into action, all things respond.

To see clearly in darkness is to perceive with Shen, rather than with the eyes. To hear harmony in silence is to sense with the breath, rather than with the ears. He is subtle and penetrating: he can discern all things without being governed by them, and does not forget himself because of external things. This is like what the Book of Changes says: “Grasp the essence of meaning and enter the spirit, thereby bringing it to practical use.” He is also wondrous and unfathomable. When he emerges and connects with all things, he can discern the finest subtleties without being entangled by what lies outside him.

The Changes says, “Make use of it to settle oneself and to honor lofty virtue.” Here, “deep” means profound enough to respond to all things; “nothingness” can nevertheless supply whatever all things need; and “spirit” can make things subtle and wondrous. Thus the Dao sometimes manifests in activity, but in the end returns to its place of rest.

Bixuzi’s commentary: Water comes closest to the Dao. When still, it is deep, clear, and settled; when flowing, it is limpid and bright. Metal and stone make no sound unless struck. All things have their own nature, and only by following that nature in inquiry can we truly know them. To go forward alone in plain simplicity, without being ashamed of not knowing the ways of the world; to establish the root, return to the source, and restore one’s original life—this is to let understanding reach the wondrous realm. To know what is constant is called “clarity.” De extends everywhere, so in action one can often touch the true delight of the subtle and wondrous. “Taking what is needed from things” means responding to things and making use of what they offer.

The substance of the Dao gives birth to all things, while the function of De brings them into view. Those who are skilled at preserving the body must be able to investigate the principles of life; those skilled at establishing De must be able to grasp the Dao’s hidden depths. Thus the workings of De are vast and boundless: when they appear, they have no fixed form, and as they operate, they leave no trace. In darkness and obscurity, one can nonetheless see light and hear harmony. Precious jade, stored away in darkness for a long time, still gives off a gleam; when the spirit is kept within, quiet and silent, signs of its numinous clarity also appear. The phrases “respond to all things” and “make things subtle and wondrous” refer to marvelous things that appear in a state of indistinctness, and to the true essence hidden in unfathomable depths.

“To reach nothingness and supply what is sought” means that through Wuwei (non-action), nothing remains unaccomplished. “At times it rushes forth, yet in the end returns to its resting place” means that movement, when carried to its limit, ultimately returns to stillness. Things large or small, near or far, are all joined by the Dao.

Yanzhai says: That metal and stone can make a sound is a natural principle; a person’s striking them is also a subtle working of Heaven. How, then, can we be sure that what is called Heaven and what is called humanity are entirely separate? To go forward in simplicity is to follow one’s original nature; not to be ashamed of lacking knowledge of the world means that, though one has the ability, one does not deliberately put it to use. The “source” is the original mind of a thing. “Going out” means responding to external things; “taking” is like responding to a stimulus. All things that arise in bodily form follow the same principle. But unless one experiences it directly within oneself, the principle will not become clear. To preserve one’s own body in order to investigate the principle at the beginning of life, and to establish one’s own De in order to illuminate the Way of nature—this is something only a sage can accomplish.

The sage suddenly appears above the multitude of things, rising in a vigorous surge and compelled to act; all things then move along with him. In this sense, one may say that all things see him. “Seeing light and hearing harmony” likewise means only that each sees for itself and each hears for itself. The Dao is deep and hidden, yet it can respond to all things. It can be subtle or manifest in what is coarse; within itself, it abides in emptiness and stillness, while in responding to external things it is moved and reaches through to them. Because it has no private self, it can reach nothingness and supply the needs of all things; it can also manifest its function at the right time, so that all things ultimately find their place of rest.

This matter cannot be summed up in a single sentence. Things may be large or small, long or short, near or far; this means each is in its proper place. Only by taking all these relations into account is the meaning complete.

The Dao (the Way) is deep, distant, and clear, like the heavens. Metal and stone instruments, such as bells and chime stones, can produce sound; this is their natural capacity. Their sounding when acted upon from outside is the work of human beings. Strike them, and they ring: this, too, is human action. Heaven and humanity interact, and their relationship becomes visible through things. Here, this serves to explain the virtue of one who possesses a kingly De.

Such a person lives simply and naturally, without being ashamed of not understanding worldly affairs. This is not because he is incapable, but because he waits for others to ask before responding. The foundation on which he stands is like an instrument made of metal and stone; his penetrating, wondrous wisdom is like the sound that comes forth when it is struck. Though the sound becomes manifest, the source that produces it remains within the instrument. Is such virtue not vast and profound?

The heart-mind becomes manifest when stirred by external things, and responds to what it encounters with penetrating understanding. This is what was meant earlier by “being aroused and thereby attaining understanding.” Only by maintaining one’s own physical form can one fully realize the principles of life; only by establishing one’s own virtue can one understand the natural principles of the Great Dao. If one is skilled at nourishing and cultivating the virtue already within oneself, then once one’s actions become manifest, how could the myriad things fail to follow?

As for seeing light in darkness and hearing a response in silence, such powers of sight and hearing lie beyond the reach of ordinary people. Therefore, when one is inwardly profound and can communicate with the myriad things, they do not depart from the Dao. When one is wondrous and pure, the subtle does not depart from spirit. Reaching the utmost emptiness, one can respond to whatever is needed; with a heart-mind that is empty and still yet never exhausted, activity continually gives rise to new things. One acts in accord with the times, yet ultimately returns to the root. What is called “far” eventually returns. The closing words of the chapter—“large, small, long, short, far, near”—mean that the transformations of things never go beyond these bounds. Here, “distant and far” should read “near and far”; Yanzhai, the commentator, makes a persuasive point.

The Yellow Emperor was traveling on the northern bank of the Red River. He climbed a mound on Mount Kunlun, gazed south, and was preparing to return when he lost the Mysterious Pearl, a symbol of the wondrous and subtle true Dao. He sent Zhi to search for it, but Zhi could not find it. He then sent Liju, who also failed to find it, and next sent Chi Gou, who likewise found nothing. Finally, he sent Xiangwang, who found it. The Yellow Emperor exclaimed, “How strange! Xiangwang was able to find it!”

Guo Xiang explains that this story illustrates how the way to attain the Dao does not lie in the use of clever devices. Intelligence and talent alone cannot secure the true Dao; sharp senses and skillful speech may instead take one farther from it. The one who can attain the Dao is Xiangwang: a state that seems to have no form or appearance and does not cling to perception or distinctions. That state itself accords with the true Dao.

Lü Huiqing explains that the northern bank of the Red River symbolizes the deepest reaches of the mysterious Dao, while the mound on Mount Kunlun symbolizes the highest place within the physical form. Gazing south means turning toward the light and observing. The Mysterious Pearl, as a precious jewel…

It cannot be sought through knowledge, cleverness, or words. No matter how one searches, it cannot be found.

“Form” is not entirely absent, yet “formless” is not something that truly exists. It is neither being nor nonbeing, neither bright nor dark.

That is why the Mysterious Pearl—a metaphor for the profound Dao or one’s original nature—can be found.

The Commentary of Doubting the Unique says: The Yellow Emperor searched for the Mysterious Pearl in the south, and only after returning did he come to understand it naturally. He had meant to recover the root, but instead cast away his own true nature as well. If one searches through knowledge, one’s true nature recedes even further. Searching through cleverness, talent, or verbal argument will also fail. Only by escaping the constraints of the body, setting aside discriminating knowledge, abandoning clever contrivances, and forgetting verbal expression—by reaching the state of “Formless” (a mindless, hazy state without attachment)—can one hope to find one’s true nature.

The Commentary of the Jade Void says: When the mind stirs, the True Water—a metaphor for the mind and nature in their original clarity and stillness—loses its power to illuminate. Fixating on lofty things leads one away from the ultimate principle; hurrying to return to the root means one has already lost the wondrous Dao. Human cleverness reaches everywhere, so knowledge cannot accord with the Dao. Human discernment sees everything, so vision cannot correspond to the Dao. Human eloquence is finely honed, so words cannot resonate with the Dao. “Formless” means hazy and unattached. People accord with the Dao by being without intention, and the Dao accords with people in the same way. To say that one “attains the Dao” is only a manner of speaking. When the Yellow Emperor exclaimed, “Can it be found this way?” what he really meant was that there is, in truth, nothing to be found.

The Oral Meaning of Yanzhai says: This passage teaches that seeking the Dao does not depend on cleverness, talent, or verbal expression. As a Buddhist scripture puts it, trying to seek perfect enlightenment with a mind that thinks and discriminates is like trying to burn Mount Sumeru with a firefly’s light.

People in the world who seek the Dao often concentrate on knowledge, cleverness, and argument, thereby losing their original nature without realizing that “knowing without knowledge,” “seeing without sight,” and “speaking without words” are precisely the source of knowing, seeing, and speaking without limit. The Mysterious Pearl is a metaphor for the mind, perfectly clear and luminous; “mysterious” describes the mind’s wondrous functioning. Only when the mind remains still and inwardly contained can its activity become inexhaustible. Yet people now insist on searching in what is bright and exposed. This is exactly the approach that must be cast aside. Knowledge, observation, and speech all fail to find the Mysterious Pearl because each seeks it deliberately. As for “Formless,” even attachment to bodily form has disappeared. How, then, could the mind still cling to anything? Only then can the Mysterious Pearl be found—and this is what prompted the Yellow Emperor’s exclamation.

Everyone possesses this Mysterious Pearl from the beginning. From ancient times to the present, it has shone brightly, illuminating Heaven and Earth. When the mind is still, it gathers and becomes manifest; when the mind stirs, it scatters and is lost. When the mind’s abyss is clouded by dust-like thoughts, its light is obscured. When the sea of nature is whipped into waves, it loses its original place. If one cannot even see oneself within one’s own body, how could one hope to discern external things? At first, the Yellow Emperor thought that cleverness and knowledge would suffice to find the Mysterious Pearl, but he did not realize… (The original text ends here.)

The pearl was stolen because people relied on cleverness and knowledge. Only when Xiangwang was sent to search for it was the pearl found. This probably teaches people to set aside cleverness and knowledge so that their nature can return to a state of deep stillness and clarity. Then the Mysterious Pearl, which symbolizes the Great Dao or one’s nature, will appear of itself, without being sought. Those who hold firm faith should begin here.

Yao’s teacher was Xu You; Xu You’s teacher was Nie Que; Nie Que’s teacher was Wang Ni; and Wang Ni’s teacher was Bei Yi. Yao asked Xu You, “Can Nie Que assist the Son of Heaven and govern the world? I would like to ask him about this through Wang Ni.”

Xu You replied, “I’m afraid not. Nie Que is clever and perceptive, with keen insight, and he acts swiftly and resourcefully. His natural abilities surpass those of ordinary people, yet he uses human ingenuity to try to grasp the Way of Heaven. He knows only how to prevent mistakes, not where mistakes arise. If the world were entrusted to him, could he accord with the Way of Heaven? He relies only on human effort and does not follow the Way of Heaven; he takes himself as his foundation and sees all things as separate from one another. He esteems cleverness and rushes about as swiftly as fire. He busies himself with affairs until he is bound by them. He watches in every direction, waiting for things to respond. He deals with countless affairs, seeking what is appropriate and fitting. He also changes along with external things and never remains constant. How could such a person be fit to accord with the Way of Heaven?

“Even so, there is a certain kind of conduct and an ancestral model in him that people can follow. But he cannot be the foundation on which the fathers of the people rely. Those who govern the world set the course for order or disorder. One who sits on the throne may also bring disaster; one who occupies the ruler’s position may become a calamity for the world.”

Guo Xiang’s commentary: “Accord with Heaven” means to serve as Son of Heaven. Someone of exceptional cleverness will inspire others to admire and follow him. But if he then uses ingenuity to try to recover his natural nature, he will only move further away from it. The key to removing faults, therefore, is to abandon ingenuity, not to forcefully suppress faults. If the world is entrusted to such a person, later generations will come to rely entirely on cleverness and lose their true nature.

If one takes all things as one’s foundation, one can view their many changes as a unity and regard things of different forms as the same. But this remains a superficial approach. If later generations follow his way of controlling all things, they will go against them. Once a worthy person occupies a high position, cleverness and learning will be held in esteem, and the pursuit of fame and profit, with people rushing to outdo one another, will take hold. This will mark the beginning of making people serve others. People will be constrained to control external things and direct all things to serve the affairs of those above them. Unable to forget their desire to do good, they will deal with affairs only in ways they consider beneficial to people. They will rush after external things, while their minds remain unfree. Today they receive his benefits; tomorrow they suffer the harm that follows from them. Nothing remains constant. How could such a person be fit to accord with the Way of Heaven?

“There is a certain kind of conduct and an ancestral model” means that his actions and type of character can serve as examples for people to imitate. But these are only outward signs that people follow, not the true foundation on which they depend. If the world is entrusted to such a person, he will not merely govern it; he will also set disorder in motion. Jie and Zhou were not able to kill…

Worthy ministers rely only on the wisdom and example of sages, yet end up bringing disaster upon themselves. The source of the disaster often has nothing to do with their ability to usurp the throne. The state of Qi, meanwhile, used the name of benevolence and righteousness to harm others. Thus it is said: when ministers face their ruler, they may invite disaster; when a ruler faces his subjects, he too may become a source of harm.

Lü’s Commentary: If Nie Que, a personal name, surpassed ordinary people by relying on his inborn nature, then he was not someone who had cast aside cleverness and acted only out of necessity. When people use contrived action to bear their inborn nature, they cannot be said to be following nature completely. They forbid transgressions without knowing where those transgressions come from; yet the transgressions may arise precisely from the very practice of forbidding them. If they still regard this as conforming to Wuwei (non-action) and as fitting with the Way of Heaven, how could contrived action fail to harm nature?

One who deliberately cultivates himself and changes his original form cannot attain selflessness. One who exalts cleverness and lets the spirit race like a flame cannot escape cleverness. Such a person is therefore put to work by the things of the world, inwardly bound by them and unable to free himself. To look in all directions and respond at once to external things is not a way to dwell at ease and keep the people from losing their bearings. To concern oneself only with meeting the needs of the multitude is not a way to establish the root and let wisdom reach the spirit. So although such a person changes with external things, he never has a constant Way. How could he be fit to accord with the Way of Heaven?

Still, the beginning of Wuwei has always involved reducing contrived action. Things have their kinds and their source; this source may be called the father of all things. But reducing contrived action is not what gives rise to the source of all things, so it cannot be taken as the source of their father. The point here is that unless one can attain ignorance and inaction, the difference between Yao and Jie, and the emergence of order and disorder, follow from this. Ruling a state through cleverness is precisely what causes ministers to bring disaster upon their ruler and rulers to become a source of harm.

Yidu’s Commentary: Although Nie Que was intelligent and wise, he knew only the traces in which the Great Way appears. And by using contrived action to bear his inborn nature, he remained far from the Great Way. Transgressions arise from cleverness and skill; using cleverness and skill to prohibit them only makes them grow further, until they become difficult to suppress.

Deliberately cultivating oneself and changing one’s form shows that one has not yet forgotten the body. Exalting cleverness and letting the spirit race exhausts the spirit and also gives rise to all kinds of affairs and burdens. When the heart is bound by things, it is obstructed by external objects. To look all around and respond at once is to bring all external things under one’s own management; to concern oneself only with meeting the needs of the multitude is to act according to the demands of external things. Neither can yet accord with the transformations of nature or change together with the myriad things.

Such a person’s actions never go beyond contrivance: wisdom has a point at which it runs out, and strength, too, has its limits. He receives the benefits of virtue and inherits its drawbacks, yet never has a constant Way. Even if he can meet the needs of the multitude and change with external things, he still does not know the root of the Great Way. Hence it is said that things have their kinds and their source, and that this source may be called the father of all things.

One may be the father of the people, but not the father of the father of the people. The “father of the father of the people” is the ancestor shared by all.

One who has truly attained the Dao neither governs nor creates disorder. By letting things follow their own course and practicing Wuwei (non-action), one brings no harm and becomes no destroyer. But if one follows the traces of human contrivance and relies on the cleverness of the sages, one is bound to become a source of harm.

Commentary by Xiangdao: “Government orders are strict, yet the people are impoverished.” Nie Que (a personal name) treated all things with cleverness and insight, but in doing so caused them harm. From priding oneself on cleverness and insight to being unable, in the end, to preserve what is constant—this is all “Nie.” Governing the world by one’s own power is the root of disorder. To rule while facing south and become sovereign is to become a calamity for the world.

The people turn toward their ancestor; all things issue from their root. Those who governed the people in antiquity all made use of cleverness and insight. But their subtle achievement was to reach a state of divine clarity and awe-inspiring power without killing: only this counts as the utmost attainment. Nie Que today has only cleverness and insight. Thus he may be the father of the people, but cannot be the father of the father of the people. Qian, the Heaven trigram in the Book of Changes, is the father of all things, and so the father of the people. The Great Beginning, the origin before Heaven, Earth, and all things had differentiated, is the father of Qian, and so the father of the father of the people. The father of the people is one who governs the world; the father of the father of the people is one who lets all things in the world grow freely. When all things are allowed to grow freely, there is neither governance nor disorder. Once governance is imposed, disorder arises; hence this is called “the root of governance and disorder.” To understand this principle and yet still face north as a subject is not to be a true subject; hence it is called “the calamity of facing north.” To understand it and yet still face south as a ruler is not to be a true ruler; hence it is called “the destroyer who faces south.”

Commentary by Bixu: Relying on cleverness diminishes one’s good fortune; a nature that stands above others invites greater harm. To use a calculating mind while expecting a response of unspoiled naturalness is to place the two far apart. How could such a person be in accord with Heaven? He relies on the ruler’s authority and disregards the principles of Heaven; he regards his own body as noble and hastily exercises his cleverness, making laws to restrain all things and managing every affair. He seeks to answer all things by himself, pursuing external things without rest. How could this accord with nature? Yet these methods have both root and branch, and the government’s orders and teachings are severe. Though he has not forgotten the traces of human contrivance, he can still quell calamity and disorder. This is what is meant by “governing the state through cleverness.”

Yanzhai’s remarks: “Matching Heaven” means ruling the world. Cleverness, insight, and quick, agile responses are what make him surpass ordinary people. He cultivates human affairs to accord with Heaven’s intent; hence it is said that he is “restrained.” “Error” is like a mind still attached to something and not yet transformed. If one understands where error arises, there is no need to wait for prohibitions to restrain it. To know only how to control people and not how to follow Heaven, to know only how to act and not how to practice Wuwei, comes from setting oneself against external things. “Taking one’s own body as the basis and making it unlike other forms” means esteeming one’s own cleverness and wielding it eagerly, as if rushing like a blazing fire. People are driven by petty affairs yet do not know… (The original text ends here unfinished.)

“Fundamental” refers to this passage. “Caught up in affairs and constrained by things” means being entangled in events and bound by external things. When something external arises, one must respond. Even if one can weigh the circumstances and act accordingly, external things still disturb one and disrupt one’s natural state. This is not the spontaneous response that comes from true stability.

Nevertheless, Nie Que, a legendary adept who attained the Dao (the Way), still deserves respect. When a clan gathers, it will surely honor its ancestors. Among many fathers, one may become the father of them all; above those fathers there is yet a higher elder. “Leader” refers to a ruler or commander. Such a person’s influence on the world may bring peace under Heaven, or it may cause disorder. Thus, both rulers and ministers can invite calamity.

The passage says that Nie Que was intelligent and wise, with exceptional natural gifts. It speaks only of his abilities, without explaining his Dao. To meet the Dao of Heaven through human action is still to act deliberately, seeking by those means to accord with Wuwei (non-action). This is merely a vigilant effort to avoid mistakes, without understanding where mistakes come from. If the world were entrusted to him, he might govern the people through deliberate methods and cause everyone under Heaven to lose their natural nature.

Once a person’s body and mind lose their natural state, the body may remain, but what is within grows divided, like the liver and gallbladder, or the states of Chu and Yue, estranged from one another. To revere intelligence is to rush to display one’s schemes like a spreading fire. To be drawn along by affairs is to become their servant; to be bound by external things is to meet obstruction at every turn. Looking in all directions and responding to the myriad things shows that one has not yet forgotten oneself. Constantly accommodating the needs of others shows that one has not yet forgotten things. If one shifts and changes with external things, one gradually loses one’s constancy and abandons one’s original self. How, then, could one accord with the Dao of Heaven?

Even so, Nie Que’s teaching had its own principles and authorities. He had probably indeed heard of the Dao and could be a father among fathers, but he had not yet become the highest authority above them all. “The father of all fathers” means reaching an even deeper level of mystery. Because Nie Que had not attained this level, having him govern the world through deliberate methods might well bring disorder. Whether as ruler or minister, he would be liable to suffer calamity. The passage is saying that intelligence alone is not enough to govern the world.

If Nie Que was Xu You’s teacher, why did Xu You refuse to acknowledge that he could accord with the Dao of Heaven? Because “accord with Heaven” belongs to the learning of emperors who govern the world externally, while the four recluses taught the inner cultivation and realization of the Dao of Heaven. An adept who has attained the Dao may emerge into the world and become an emperor’s teacher; in retreat, the adept may become the highest authority above all fathers. Why, then, would such a person need to take possession of the world? Xu You therefore did not praise Nie Que’s strengths, but pointed out his shortcomings, so that he would not crave rank and power like ants drawn to a foul smell, and could preserve his noble character. This is the highest expression of respect for a teacher.

To uphold the foundation of the Dao (the Way), one must grasp its essential meaning; those who study it should seek it with wholehearted attention.