《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 34

Yao was touring the region of Hua when the man guarding its borders said, “Ah, sage! Allow me to offer you my blessings: may you live a long life.” Yao replied, “No need.” The man then said, “May you be wealthy.” Yao still replied, “No need.” The man said once more, “May you have many sons.” Yao again replied, “No need.”

The border guard asked, “A long life, wealth, and many sons are things people want. Why do you alone not want them?” Yao said, “Many sons bring many worries and fears; wealth brings many obligations; a long life brings many humiliations. None of these can nurture De, so I decline them.”

The border guard said, “At first I thought you were a sage, but now I see you are merely a gentleman. Heaven brings the people into being and must give them roles to fulfill. If you have many sons, give them roles—what is there to worry about? If you are wealthy, share your wealth with everyone—what is there to trouble you? A sage settles wherever he happens to be, like a quail, and relies on nature for food, like a fledgling. He moves like a bird in flight, leaving no deliberate trace. When the world is in accord with the Dao, he flourishes along with all things. When the world is without the Dao, he cultivates De and withdraws to a quiet life. Even if he lives for a thousand years, grows weary of the world, and departs as an immortal, riding the white clouds to the dwelling of the Celestial Emperor, none of the three calamities will befall him. He will remain free of misfortune—what humiliation could there be?”

The border guard walked away. Yao followed him and asked, “May I ask what you meant just now by ‘withdrawing oneself’?” The border guard replied, “Yielding oneself.”

Guo Xiang’s commentary: If one has many sons, one assigns them roles so that each finds his place and is settled in mind. One entrusts wealth to the people of the world to share, and so it causes no trouble. The quail lives without deliberately seeking a place of safety; the fledgling takes food from outside itself and is content. One acts in accord with one’s nature and leaves no fixed trace. To flourish along with all things is to let one’s nature unfold, naturally accordant with the Great Dao. To cultivate De and withdraw to a quiet life—even acting as Tang and King Wu of Zhou did, in response to Heaven’s will and the people’s needs—does not count as departing from the Dao. So, whatever the length of one’s life, one should let circumstances change as they will: life follows nature’s course, and death is the transformation of things. To grow weary of the world, ascend as an immortal, and ride the clouds to the imperial realm is simply Qi dispersing and flowing on, going everywhere. If the three calamities do not come, what humiliation could there be?

Lü Huiqing’s commentary: The sage exhausts the Way of Heaven, and so can become one with change without being burdened by external things. The gentleman exhausts the way of human beings, and so shares the people’s good and bad fortune. Even though long life, wealth, and many sons are desired by everyone, they inevitably bring obligations, worries, and humiliations; that is why Yao declined them. Yao was not without understanding of the Way of Heaven; he simply lived among the people according to the way of human beings. As for “the quail’s dwelling,” this means not knowing where one is settled; “the fledgling taking food” means not knowing… [The original text ends here unfinished.]

When birds fly, no fixed path can be discerned, and their traces cannot be followed. Some people explain the immortals in terms of taking elixirs and regulating the breath. Secular Confucian scholars regard this as absurd talk and refuse to believe it. Both views are mistaken. While alive, a person holds fast to spirit; after death, they must still hold fast to spirit, without forgetting it. While alive, a person preserves their innate nature; after death, they must still preserve it, without its perishing. The Book of Songs and the Book of Documents both speak of people in Heaven. Why, then, should we doubt that people leave this world, ascend to Heaven, and become immortals?

Yao did not become a sage because others nominated him, nor did his sage virtue become apparent because others approved of him. The words spoken by the Frontier Warden as he took his leave show precisely that he understood the Way.

The Commentary of Yidu explains: The Frontier Warden of Hua asked Yao to accept his blessings, wishing him long life, wealth, and many children. Yao declined each one. He said that many children would burden a person with family affairs and bring worry and fear; wealth would make a person subject to possessions and burdened with many tasks; and long life would entangle a person in life and expose them to many humiliations and hardships. None of these three things could nourish the virtue of Wuwei (non-action); instead, they would become burdens in life.

The Frontier Warden said, “At first I took Yao for a sage who embodied the Way. Now I see that he has abandoned what is and turned toward what is not; he seems more like a worthy gentleman.” The Warden also reasoned that, with many children, one could assign duties to them, so why worry? With much wealth, one could share it with others, so why be troubled by affairs? Quails have no fixed dwelling, and their chicks can rely on what is around them for food and still eat their fill. A bird flies past without leaving a fixed trace. Such a person can flourish together with all things and attend to the whole world; after cultivating virtue, they can withdraw to a quiet place and cultivate goodness for themselves. If one could live a thousand years, then, weary of the world, ascend to Heaven and become an immortal, how could the three troubles Yao spoke of ever befall them?

The Commentary of Bixu says: One can assign duties to one’s many children; wealth can be shared with others, or gold and pearls hidden deep in mountains and rivers. Quails do not build permanent nests, and their chicks need not search far for food to be satisfied; birds leave no traces as they fly. Act in keeping with the times and flourish together with all things. After cultivating virtue, withdraw to a quiet and still place, remaining quietly self-contained like a female bird. Leave the world behind, tread on the sun’s shadow, and ride through the void; white clouds symbolize the Qi of the Dao. “The Emperor’s homeland” refers to the true realm of immortals. The Frontier Warden’s blessings concerned things the world esteems, but Yao was not beguiled by them and so declined. The Warden then asked, “As you take your leave, is there some deeper meaning in forgetting yourself?”

The Commentary of Yanzhai says: Wealth and status, long life, and many children are all things people desire, but those who study the Dao do not keep them in mind. Heaven gives birth to the people, and each person has duties to fulfill; from the moment people are born, their livelihood and provisions are arranged. To “be wealthy and make others share” means to entrust one’s wealth to other people and let each person put it to proper use. Quails have no fixed dwelling, chicks do not obtain food for themselves, and birds leave no traces as they fly… (The original text ends here.)

This commentary first draws together the earlier discussion of the "Guardian of Hua blessing Yao." Each of these actions, it says, shows "no-mind" (wuxin): flourishing together with all things, so that things and self each find their proper place. The Guardian cultivated De (Virtue/Power) and lived in leisure; when the world lacked the Dao (the Way), he withdrew into seclusion, and when he tired of the dusty world, he ascended as an immortal and was set free. "White clouds, the realm of the Emperor" refers to a state above emptiness and nothingness. The "three afflictions" are youth, maturity, and old age. They can be understood through the Śūraṅgama Sūtra's analogy of the Ganges River: from childhood to old age the body changes, yet the nature that sees remains unchanged. Yao wished to keep seeking instruction from the Guardian, but the Guardian would not answer and said only, "Enough." This is like Jieyu hurrying away, or the Old Man with the Weeding Basket leaving as soon as he arrived; the meaning is the same.

The commentary then explains the main text. How great Yao was as a ruler! His benevolent virtue shone forth and his sense of righteousness was established; his De was broad and his teaching reached everywhere. Once the world was at peace, he traveled to Hua. The Guardian was also a recluse who delighted in Yao's way of governing. Three times in succession he offered blessings to the sage, bringing the finest things under heaven as a return to his lord, believing these to be a "Dao" that could be presented to Yao. Yao declined each one, because he understood that such things could not nourish De. The Guardian then pressed his case further, holding that these refusals were themselves superfluous to the Dao. Consider, though, that Yao sent his nine sons and two daughters to serve Shun in the fields, and that although he possessed everything within the four seas, he did not enjoy the longest span of life, dying at the age of one hundred and eighteen. This lofty and boundless bearing already lay beyond the three afflictions. The Guardian's words happened to accord with Yao's own conduct, so he too may be counted among those of Yao's kind. Yet the ultimate state of Yao, who was like Heaven, like a spirit, like the sun, like the clouds, was far beyond what the Guardian could fathom. The phrase "wu zhang" (无彰, "no display") should read "wu zhang" (无章, "no ornamentation"), meaning there were no traces of literary refinement.

The main text begins a new passage. When Yao governed the world, Boacheng Zigao was established as a feudal lord. Yao passed the throne to Shun, and Shun passed it to Yu, whereupon Boacheng Zigao resigned his lordship and went to farm. Yu went to see him and found him plowing in the fields. Yu hurried to stand downwind of him and, standing respectfully, asked: "In Yao's time, when he governed the world, you were established as a feudal lord. Yao passed the throne to Shun, and Shun passed it to me, yet you resigned your lordship and went to farm. Why is that?" Zigao replied: "In Yao's time, when he governed the world, people strove on their own without rewards, and stood in awe without punishments. Now you apply rewards and punishments, and still the people are not good. Virtue declines from this point, punishments are established from this point, and the troubles of later generations begin from this point. Why don't you leave, and stop interfering with my work!" With that he bent to his plowing and did not look back.

Guo Xiang's commentary says: In Yu's age, three sages followed one another, and their successful governance, their complete De, and the beauty of their achievements gradually faded from sight. For this reason the historical records do not mention it, and even Confucius could not learn of it. Thus, although they possessed the world, they did not claim it as their own; this is what it means to "have it and yet have nothing." So by examining the conditions of that age, one can know that its governance had reached a state without trace.

Yu governed most successfully among the Three Kings. As for his character, although all three sage kings may be called sages, Yu ultimately stood on a level with Yao alone.

At that time there were no sages, so the people’s hearts suddenly turned toward Qi, Yu’s son. Those who are truly impartial and properly suited to their position entrust the realm to the people. Accepting or handing over the realm is not done for oneself. Thus, when they lose it, they do not seek it back; when they receive it, they do not refuse. When it comes suddenly, they accept it calmly; when it departs suddenly, they remain at ease. Yu was therefore criticized by those who upheld integrity and principle, yet he was counted among the Three Kings. This is hardly surprising.

Zhuangzi uses this story to explain that the trouble began in Yao’s time and had become a calamity by Yu’s time; in later generations there were no more sages. Through the ancient story of Bocheng Zigao, he depicts Zigao leaving office, returning to farming, and no longer governing the realm. His purpose is to end the veneration of sages, set aside contrived cleverness, and restore the mind to stillness. This is an illustrative conceit, not a factual account. Zhuangzi’s words should not be judged from only one angle. He also said that the traces left by the Yellow Emperor made people bald, and that the rule of Yao and Shun exhausted them. Was he simply honoring Yao and disparaging Yu? We should therefore recognize the meaning he conveys through the story and understand his call to cast aside sage wisdom.

Lü’s commentary: The ancients praised Yu, calling him “Divine Yu,” because his virtue had reached the realm of the divine. If so, there should have been no difference between him and Yao or Shun. The people were encouraged without relying on rewards and felt awe without relying on punishments. But using rewards and punishments to encourage and instill fear in them would instead cause them to lose their sense of benevolence. This was simply a difference in the customs of the times. The passage is framed this way to explain that a ruler governs the realm through De (Virtue/Power); rewards and punishments are measures used only when there is no other choice.

Yidu’s commentary: Bocheng Zigao was a feudal lord in Yao’s time. By Yu’s time, he had withdrawn to the countryside and made his living by farming. The point seems to be that Yao governed the realm through the Dao (the Way) of Wuwei (non-action): the people needed no rewards or punishments and naturally knew to do good and to feel awe. Yu, however, used rewards and punishments, and the people consequently lost their sense of benevolence. Punishments were established only after virtue had declined, and the turmoil of later generations began there. Bocheng Zigao said to Yu, “Go away at once; do not delay my farm work. Work hard at your fields, and do not look back.”

Xiangdao’s commentary: The people of ancient times were simple and honest, yet they did not know they were being loyal. Their conduct was proper, yet they did not know this was keeping faith. When they did good, they sought no reputation and did not know anyone was encouraging them; when they did wrong, they did not approach punishment and did not know anyone was making them afraid. Even when Yao neither rewarded nor punished, the people still did good and felt awe. Yet compared with those who did not even know why they did good or felt awe, this was already shallow. How much more so when rewards and punishments are then used to make people do good and feel fear? This is why virtue declined and punishments arose. It was not that Yao never rewarded or punished. Rather, when he rewarded one person, everyone in the realm was glad to do good; when he punished one person, everyone in the realm…

The best form of governance is one in which the people willingly and wholeheartedly submit. Rewards and punishments are seldom used, yet most people are still willing to obey. This may be called governing without needing either rewards or punishments.

The man from Huafeng measured Yao against a sage, and Zigao in turn measured Yu against Yao. When Yu looked at Yao, he already found him unfathomable; when Yao looked at the sages, he felt they were wondrous beyond measure.

Bixuzi’s commentary: Yao, Shun, and Yu governed the world just as the Dao, De, and benevolence brought benefits to the people: their benevolence reached far and wide. But Bocheng Zigao’s words expressed lofty aspirations, transcended worldly concerns, and were upright and unyielding. He truly deserves to be called a teacher of emperors and kings. After speaking, he bent down to plow and did not look back, showing his wholehearted devotion to farming, his esteem for what is fundamental, and his return to simplicity.

Yanzhai says: This passage describes the gradual decline of the age. By the time of Yu, things were already not as they had been in the time of Yao and Shun. “Do not delay my work” means “Do not delay my plowing.” “Yiyi” describes the posture of plowing with one’s head bowed. In Yao’s time, rewards and punishments were not used; now they must be used, yet the people are still not benevolent. The point is that rewards and punishments are inferior to doing without them. This is like the saying, “The best is to prevent disputes from arising”: the principle is conveyed through the three sages Yao, Shun, and Yu.

The intent of the text above is already clear, and the various commentaries are also quite detailed, so there is no need to elaborate further.

In the Great Beginning, being and nonbeing had not yet been distinguished. Existence was present, but it had no name. From this came the One, though it had not yet appeared in bodily form. All things came to be through it; this is called De. Existence that had not yet taken shape was already differentiated: each thing was as it was, without impeding the others. This is called destiny. Qi moved and changed, and all things came into being. As things took form, the principles of life also became manifest; this is called form. Form preserves the spirit, and each thing has its corresponding pattern; this is called nature. Cultivate nature so that it returns to De; when De is cultivated to its utmost, it becomes one with the Great Beginning. Returning to oneness brings stillness and emptiness; reaching stillness and emptiness makes one boundless. All sounds join with Heaven and Earth, blending together without obstruction. Profound and subtle, one seems dull and unaware. This is called Mysterious De: being in accord with the Dao’s natural unfolding.

Guo Xiang’s commentary: Before there was differentiation, there was nothing by which to name things. The One is the beginning of the existence of all things, so subtle that it had not yet revealed the forms of things. The beginning of the One comes from the Utmost One; it does not arise from nothingness. Zhuangzi speaks repeatedly of the “beginning” because how life is obtained before things come into being is truly difficult to explain. Yet life neither depends on nothingness nor waits for the designs of consciousness: it is simply and suddenly obtained of itself. Since life arises naturally, why deliberately manage it once it has begun, thereby losing its natural growth? To say that all things “come into being” does not mean that nothingness can generate them. It means that each thing arises naturally in its own way, and this can be called De.

The terms “De,” “form,” “nature,” and “destiny” are established in response to change; considered in their natural state, all things are one and the same. Cultivating nature and returning to De are achieved naturally, without deliberate action. This differs from the original state: it is something reached along the way…

When the mind harbors deliberate, purposeful thoughts, the breast is filled with something; and when one fills the breast and then goes on to cultivate it, De (Virtue/Power) appears narrow and cramped. To speak without intention, letting the voice arise of itself, is to accord with the natural piping of birdsong. This is to be in accord with Heaven and Earth, and so to be united with them. Heaven and Earth likewise turn of their own accord without intention. When the two merge in seamless unity, as in "sitting in forgetfulness" (zuowang, the cultivation practice of forgetting the self and the myriad things), the harmony arises naturally; it is not obtained through observation or deliberation. This is called "Profound De" (xuande, deep and mysterious Virtue). When De reaches this profundity, what it accords with becomes vast.

Commentary by Lü Huiqing: Even "non-being" cannot be grasped. "Nameless" (wuming) is the state in which the "One" is about to arise but has not yet taken form; this is the beginning of Heaven and Earth. Once it is called the "One," it is no longer nameless. The myriad things are born through it, and this is called De; it is the mother of the myriad things. Before form is complete, distinctions already exist, and this is called "Destiny" (ming). Destiny lies at the very first moment before form, with no gap in it. After a thing is completed, it has its own organizing pattern of life, and this is called "form." The body guards the spirit without losing it, each following its own norms without acting recklessly, and this is called "nature" (xing); nature is what is not lost once form has been established. All things are born by obtaining the One: Destiny is divided yet without gap, nature preserves Shen (spirit) without losing it, and the wondrous workings of Shen move the myriad things and fill Heaven and Earth. Therefore, one cultivates nature and returns to De, until De becomes the same as the Great Beginning, where even "non-being" cannot be grasped. Empty that emptiness still further, until there is not yet any thing; enlarge that vastness still further, until even "sameness" no longer exists. When one speaks thus without intention, in accord with birdsong, one is in communication with Heaven and Earth, like the space between them that resembles a bellows. This accord is seamless and leaves no trace; it is not sought deliberately, nor does it arise from knowledge and views, and so it is called Profound De. It originates in De and is completed in Heaven, and it is the same as the "Great Accord," that is, nothing is opposed or resisted.

Commentary by Yidu: The Great Beginning is the origin of Qi (vital energy). Because form has not yet appeared, it is said that "there was nothing"; but once "being" arises, names follow after it. If there is no being, where would a name lodge? The "One" is that by which the Dao (the Way) receives its name and by which things come to be called what they are; one cannot say that it is, nor that it is not. The "One" arises in the moment of utmost subtlety, before form has yet been completed. Things are born through it, which means that things receive their Destiny from Heaven; since Destiny resides in the self, it is called De.

We can grasp what we possess because distinctions and boundaries were already present before anything in the world took shape, when creation was just beginning. These boundaries do not wait until things have taken form to appear. Once things take shape, they are distinct, yet remain in continuous change, without interruption. This is the life-state of each thing. “And” here means temporary, not something to be regarded as constant.

Once things are alive, they have form. Life derives from destiny, and form derives from life. When people have life, they are one with the Dao; when they have form, they accord with the Dao. The stillness and movement of things respectively embody Yin and Yang. Their interaction gives rise to the myriad things. Once formed, each thing follows the natural pattern of its growth. Thus, when destiny is expressed in me, it is called “nature”; when nature is expressed in the myriad things, it is called “principle.”

Form is the manifestation of the Dao, and form depends on Shen (spirit) to endure. To preserve one’s own Shen, with each thing possessing its corresponding pattern of conduct, is called “nature.” Destiny exists before life becomes manifest, while nature appears only after Shen has become manifest.

The world has been bereft of its original nature for a long time, so the sages taught people to cultivate their nature. When nature has been cultivated to the point that no further cultivation is needed, one returns to De (Virtue/Power). Returning to De means joining in mysterious union with the utmost Dao and returning to the beginning. The “beginning” refers to the state before anything in the world had begun to appear. Where there are no particular things, there is emptiness; to accord with it is to return to emptiness. Only after emptiness is there an inexhaustible underlying reality, and so it is called “great.” “Great” means acting, yet not clinging to one’s actions. In this way, one can accord with “beak-calling”—the natural sound of a bird’s call. Beak-calling means that speech and action involve no deliberate intention.

That beak-calling accords with the myriad things means that a person’s work accords with Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth accord with me, and I in turn accord with Heaven and Earth. How could such accord be achieved through knowledge and will? It comes only through being wholly without intention, as though dim and unaware, yet naturally in accord. This is called “mysterious De,” a profound and subtle virtue that responds appropriately wherever it goes. The Dao of the sage has reached its utmost point.

The commentary by Xiangdao says: Tracing back from the Great Beginning to the realm beyond names is a search upward; proceeding from “the One,” the root from which the myriad things arise, down to “nature” is a development downward. The Great Change (Ta Yi), before change has appeared; the Great Beginning (Ta Chu), when change produces Qi; the Great Origin (Ta Shi), when Qi transforms and produces form; and the Great Simplicity (Ta Su), when form transforms and produces life, are all states in which presence and absence are difficult to distinguish. Because there is the Great Beginning, there is “the One,” though it has not yet taken form. Because there is the Great Origin, the myriad things take shape and reveal the principle of growth. Because there is the Great Simplicity, each thing has its own pattern of conduct.

To have “the One” without yet taking form means that what is within is subtle and real. Though it has no form, distinctions and signs of trust are already present. “And” indicates that things are coming into being, though it is not yet known when they began. “Without interruption” means that as soon as life begins, it moves toward death, and as soon as death comes, it moves toward new life. “Stillness” refers to Yin, and “movement” to Yang; the myriad things rely on the stillness and movement of Yin and Yang to…

Only after the myriad things have taken shape do they possess physical form. Shen (spirit) governs and sustains that form, and in turn governs it so that it can respond to the myriad things. The images and principles of all things are present within my own body. These inner images and principles are called “nature.”

The myriad things first receive De (Virtue/Power), and then acquire their nature: first they receive life from the Dao (the Way), and afterward each takes on its own distinct image and principles. A person’s cultivation consists in continually refining their nature until they ultimately attain “supreme De.” Supreme De returns to the original state. Returning to the original state brings emptiness, stillness, and vastness, and restores the condition of an infant. This is the state attained by the “Great Person.” When the mouth closes and produces sound, and that sound accords with Heaven and Earth, one returns to simplicity. This is the state attained by a sage. When the mind merges completely with external things, seeming foolish and bewildered, one returns to the limitless—the unbounded, indefinable state. This is the state attained by the “Spirit Person.” Once one reaches the wondrous realm, there is no higher state.

Bixu’s commentary: As soon as “being” appears, one has already left the original state. “Great Beginning” refers to the source from which all things arise, when there were not yet any signs. Once signs appear, things have entered the level of primordial Qi (vital energy). When numinous beings emerge distinctively, this is called “De.” As primordial Qi descends, before the myriad things have appeared, the clear and turbid Qi have already separated. The continuous life-giving Qi one receives is called “life.” Stillness and movement together bring forth and transform the myriad things. Once formed, they have the order of life, and so are called “form.” When form and Shen sustain one another, each with its corresponding patterns of conduct, this is called “nature.” Cultivating one’s natural nature means returning to the De of one’s first emergence. When De is one with the Great Beginning, there is emptiness, stillness, and vastness without limits.

“Closing the beak” is like the upper and lower lips coming together naturally. When the lips meet and sound emerges without deliberate effort, this is what is meant by “speaking all day, yet seeming never to have spoken.” The joining of the upper and lower lips is like the joining of Heaven and Earth. By plugging the opening of the mouth and closing the gateways, one can understand the Dao’s profound and mysterious principles of emptiness and stillness. Supreme De is deep and unfathomable, and accords with the great Dao that responds to all things.

Liu Gai’s commentary: The “Great Beginning” is the beginning of Qi, when there was not yet any distinction between “being” and “nonbeing.” The “Great Origin” is the beginning of physical form, when there were not yet any names. Once “the One” appeared, names appeared as well. Although the One had not yet taken concrete form, the myriad things could receive life from it, because the One was present. At this point, things had not yet taken shape; they were still undivided. Calling this state “the undifferentiated whole” already introduces a distinction of sorts. “For a time” means that something does not remain indefinitely in a single state. “Without interruption” means that the beginning and the end join like a ring, with no break that can be identified. “Within it there is essence” and “within it there is truth” refer to inner differentiation that exists before anything takes shape. “Establishing De seems faint” describes how the establishment of De appears weak; “continuous, as though it were present” describes its unbroken continuity. As for life-giving Qi descending: if it cannot be retained, the myriad things cannot come into being; if it can be retained and not…

The slightest movement is enough to bring forth one thing, but not enough to bring forth all things. When it remains still, that does not mean it has never moved; when it moves, it does not obstruct the flow of Qi. Thus it can generate all things.

Once the myriad things have taken shape, the principle by which they are generated becomes visible. This is called “form.” Form carries and preserves spirit, and each thing has its own measure and standard. This is called “nature.” With life comes nature; if nature can be brought back to a quiet, subtle state, one can know the Dao of Heaven. Knowing the Dao of Heaven enables one to return to natural De. When De reaches its utmost, it accords with the Dao.

Yanzhai, the commentator on this passage, says: At the Great Beginning, the origin of Heaven and Earth’s creation, there was only “nonbeing.” Since the idea of “being” had not yet arisen, how could there have been names? This was the first appearance of “the One.” The One still belonged to nonbeing, which is why it is said, “There was the One, but it had not yet taken shape.” From this, the myriad things came to be, and only then did the many particular forms of “being” appear. The nature each thing possesses comes from De.

“Not yet taken shape” refers to the moment when the One first arose: distinctions seemed to exist, but could not yet be further divided, so this state is provisionally called “without separation.” “Without separation” means a state in which all is one undivided whole. Once distinctions arise, things become clear and distinguishable. Here, “Mandate” means the “Mandate” in the phrase “what Heaven confers is called nature”: it refers to the nature Heaven bestows on all things.

The movement of Qi transforms and gives rise to the myriad things. As Qi moves, things are generated: the force of movement settles and gathers here, becoming things. Movement belongs to Yang; gathering and stillness belong to Yin. These words imply that Yang Qi sets things in motion while Yin gives them form. The myriad things receive their generation from Qi, and so each possesses the principle of ceaseless growth. When movement of primordial Qi becomes an individual life, this is called “form.” Form carries spirit, and each thing has its own standards. This is called “nature.”

This accords with the Book of Odes’ statement, “There are things, and each has its proper pattern,” and with the meaning in the Zuo Tradition that the people receive the Qi of Heaven and Earth at birth, and that each person’s bearing and conduct follow their own standards. Spirit makes these standards manifest; in other words, human nature inherently contains benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom.

Cultivating one’s nature is a means of restoring the De that is naturally present from the beginning. When De reaches its utmost, it is the same as at the beginning, before things had divided. Returning to the beginning makes one empty and still; emptiness and stillness make one vast. In this state of emptiness, stillness, and vastness, there is no need to express oneself in words. Birds sing, of course, by making sounds; but when speech falls silent, expression comes through without words, in accord with nature. To accord with nature is to accord with Heaven and Earth.

“Mianmian” suggests the vanishing of distinctions and a state in which all is one undivided whole. It describes this state of accord: one may seem dull and unaware, yet contain profound De. It is the same as “Great Accord.” “Great Accord” is the natural principle of the Great Beginning: before primordial Qi appeared, there was neither the name “nonbeing” nor any other name. Once it was called the “Great Beginning,” the distinction between “being” and “nonbeing” had already begun to emerge.

The Dao (the Way) can no longer be expressed through names or words. This is the Dao before it takes visible form. From it arises the One; once the One is established, names also appear.

All things come into being by receiving the One, and each has its own innate De (Virtue/Power). The transformations of creation give rise to what is subtle and refined; all things have their source here, and both people and things take it as their root. Although forms have not yet appeared, Qi (vital energy) already differs in purity and turbidity, and what it gathers into also varies. When people receive it, they become people; when things receive it, they become things.

Even so, all things remain varied and unequal. Living beings differ in kind, but primordial Qi—the fundamental energy that constitutes and animates all things—flows without end or interruption. This is called “life-destiny.” Life-destiny is what Heaven bestows and all things receive, on which they depend to live. These transformations are the result of creation’s hidden workings, whose traces ordinary people cannot see. Only sages understand creation and can infer its principles by following the patterns of things.

The movement and stillness of Qi bring all things into being. Each thing develops its own workings of life; this is called “form.” Only then do people, animals, and plants become clearly visible. Ordinary people take the appearance of bodily form to be the beginning of life, not knowing that its origins reach far back.

Each thing has its own workings of life, governed only by Shen (spirit), the spiritual force that sustains life. When Shen, Qi, and one’s bearing are preserved, what life requires is naturally present. Everything that exists has principles suited to it. These principles are expressions of each thing’s own nature and the foundation on which its life is established.

One’s nature does not originally need cultivation to add to it. The cultivation spoken of here means not losing the bearing proper to oneself, thereby preserving one’s inborn nature and recovering the De on which life first depends. When De reaches its utmost, it becomes identical with the Great Beginning, the original state before Heaven, Earth, and all things were divided. This is a return to the source, bringing a person into accord with the Dao of Heaven.

To become identical with the Great Beginning is to return to emptiness; to return to emptiness is to return to nonbeing. “Emptiness” is so vast that nothing can be compared with it. “Great” is merely a name reluctantly assigned to it.

“Beak-calling” means the chirping of a nestling bird. A bird’s beak makes a sound without intention; words spoken without intention accord with a nestling’s chirping and can respond to it. Heaven and Earth have no intention, yet they respond fittingly to all things in the same way. People do not come into accord with Heaven and Earth through deliberate action; by sitting quietly and forgetting the self, they naturally come into accord.

That state is subtle and undifferentiated, as though dim and unclear, like the mutual attunement of the Qi of mother and child: the chick pecks from inside the shell just as the mother bird pecks from outside. People do not know why this happens, yet it happens naturally. This is clear proof that De has reached its utmost and become identical with the original state. In this state, De is subtly connected with all things. The distinctions between Heaven, people, things, and the self disappear; there is no greater ease and harmony in all the world.

The phrase “staying movement” makes no sense; it should be “flowing movement,” with a meaning close to “circulating.” The sound of the original character remains, but its written form has become corrupted.