《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 39

When the mind is tranquil, one can attain sage-like clarity; when one acts in step with the times, one can establish a kingly order. Through Wuwei (non-action), one is naturally revered. By remaining simple and unadorned, nothing under Heaven can rival one in beauty. Those who truly understand Heaven and Earth’s De (Virtue/Power) grasp what is fundamental and essential, and so live in harmony with Heaven. To bring harmony to the world and live in harmony with other people is called “human joy”; to live in harmony with Heaven is called “heavenly joy.”

Zhuangzi said: “O teacher whom I revere! O teacher whom I revere! You bring the myriad things into tumultuous transformation without thereby opposing them. Your grace extends across the ages, yet you do not claim to be benevolent. You existed long before antiquity, yet you do not claim great longevity. You cover and bear Heaven and Earth, and shape the forms of the myriad things, yet you do not claim skill. This is called heavenly joy.”

Thus, those who understand heavenly joy follow the course of Heaven while alive, and accompany the transformations of the myriad things when they die. In stillness, their De is one with Yin; in action, their movement flows with Yang. Those who understand heavenly joy do not resent Heaven, incur no blame from others, are not entangled by external things, and face no punishment from ghosts or spirits.

Thus, when they act, they are like Heaven; when they are still, they are like Earth. With the mind single and settled, they can order the world. Ghosts and spirits cause no mischief, and their spirit is never exhausted. When the mind is single and settled, the myriad things turn toward them. This means extending a mind emptied and still throughout Heaven and Earth, and connecting with the myriad things. This is called heavenly joy. Heavenly joy is the state of mind by which sages nourish the world.

Guo Xiang’s commentary: Act when it is time to act, and stop when it is time to stop. By following what is natural, one is naturally revered by the myriad things. Only simplicity can be in accord with Heaven. Heaven and Earth take Wuwei as their De; understand the roots of things, and you will not oppose Heaven and Earth’s natural course. The Way of Heaven corresponds with humanity: when harmony with Heaven reaches its utmost, harmony among people is complete as well. When heavenly joy is at ease, human joy is fulfilled.

“𩐒” refers to the mingled, tumultuous transformations of the myriad things. They are naturally as they are; the teacher does not deliberately bring them about. “Benevolence” is the name for universal love. Without deliberately extending love, there is no need to claim benevolence. “Longevity” means a long lifespan. Without dwelling on the length of one’s life, there is no need to claim longevity. Skill is the refinement produced by human contrivance. When the myriad things are naturally as they are, there is no need to claim skill. This is heavenly joy: forget the deliberate pursuit of joy, and joy will be naturally abundant.

Thus, in stillness one shares De with Yin; in action one moves in the current of Yang. Stillness and movement differ, yet both are free of intention. Only by remaining free of intention can one order the world without exhaustion. When my mind is at peace, the minds of the myriad things can connect with it. What connects turns toward us; what cannot connect turns away. What else could sages use to nourish the world? Nothing but heavenly joy.

Here, “heavenly joy” refers to a tranquil state of following the Way of Heaven and letting the myriad things transform naturally. “Wuwei” does not mean doing nothing; it means not forcing things to conform through private intention.

Commentary by Lü says: “In stillness, one becomes a sage” refers to inner cultivation; “in action, one becomes a king” refers to outward conduct. When one is honored through Wuwei (non-action), governing the world does not depend on clever schemes. When one understands simplicity and plainness, and does not compete with others over beauty, people throughout the world naturally submit; there is no need to rely on literary embellishment either. These ideas serve only to explain the virtue of Heaven and Earth.

Whether one occupies a high or low position, serves in office or lives in seclusion, one’s circumstances may differ, but the fundamental aim has never changed. Understanding this, one can practice Wuwei and live in harmony with Heaven; bringing harmony to the world, one can live in harmony with other people. Harmony with Heaven is called “Heavenly joy”; harmony with people is called “human joy.” One simply takes this as one’s teacher. To bring harmony to all things without making them discordant, to nourish the world without claiming benevolence, and even to shape the forms of things without claiming skill—this is the principle that Zhuangzi took as his guide.

If each person takes their own settled convictions—the understanding and standpoint already formed within them—as a standard, who would be without a standard of their own? This joy, then, does not come from outside, which is why it is called “Heavenly joy.” Those who understand Heavenly joy, while alive, follow the natural course of things without imagining that a self directs life; when they die, they change along with the myriad things without imagining that the self has truly died. In stillness, they share the virtue of Yin energy without knowing they are still; in movement, they flow with Yang energy without knowing they are moving. They incur neither Heaven’s reproach nor people’s criticism, because they have never set themselves against Heaven. They are neither burdened by external things nor punished by spirits, because they have never taken external things into themselves.

Their actions are like Heaven; their stillness is like Earth. They can be this way because their mind and spirit are at peace. Thus, when they govern the world, ghosts and spirits do not rise up to cause trouble outside, and the hun and po souls do not grow weary and unsettled within. How could the myriad things fail to submit? The mind is at peace because it remains empty and still. To extend emptiness and stillness throughout Heaven and Earth, and to permeate the myriad things, is Heavenly joy; it is also the state of mind through which a sage nurtures the world.

Commentary by Yidu says: The earlier passage described how the conduct of worthy people differs when they serve in office or withdraw into seclusion. That is why it says here that, viewed from the aspect of stillness, all can become sages; viewed from the aspect of action, all can become kings. Applied to a lowly position, this can make one a ruler without office—a “plain king”; applied to a life of seclusion, it can still bring people to submit. Being honored through Wuwei is what is called “true nobility,” an inward and genuine nobility. The sage’s mind never relies on the world’s power and possessions, but simply preserves its own simplicity; it does not take the world’s beautiful appearances as true beauty, but simply recognizes its own purity and plainness. In this way, no one in the world can compete with him in beauty. This is why he is able to be… (The original text ends here.)

To settle in one’s nature and life, and to understand the Virtue of Heaven and Earth: this is the principle taught by the “Great Root and Great Source,” the fundamental Dao. When people follow their nature and life and live in harmony with Heaven, they can bring harmony to the world and live in harmony with others. How could Heaven and humanity overcome one another? Each can fully realize its own joy. Even when joyful, one does not ask where the joy came from; one simply follows things as they naturally are.

The arrival of life accords with the seasons of Heaven; death’s departure accords with the transformations of all things. Is not the process of life and transformation itself the joy of the Dao of Heaven? When movement and stillness are each suited to their proper time, there is no blaming Heaven or others, no being burdened by external things, and no punishment from ghosts and spirits. In action, the De of Heaven reaches even into hidden places; in stillness, the things of the earth do not weigh upon the heart. When the heart rests in the Great Dao and one emerges to govern the world, all things can each preserve their nature and life. Ghosts and spirits do not cause trouble, so they bring no calamities from Heaven; the hun and po souls are not exhausted, Shen (spirit) gathers, and one’s nature returns to its original state.

Such a person’s heart is settled, and all things naturally submit. With an open and quiet heart, they investigate the foundations of Heaven and Earth and understand the ultimate principles of all things. This is what is called “Heaven’s joy,” a freedom that can be found wherever one is. This is why the sage can embrace the whole world.

Xiangdao’s commentary says: In stillness, one becomes a sage; in action, one can become a king. This is Shen expressing itself outwardly. To act as a king and then, in stillness, become a sage is for Shen to gather and return within. The uncarved wood is the root of vessels. Vessels are put to use throughout the world: sometimes they are employed, sometimes discarded. The uncarved wood seeks neither employment nor neglect, yet is always held in esteem. Plainness is the root of colors, which are divided into beauty and ugliness. Plainness seeks neither affection nor aversion, yet remains precious. Thus the beauty of simplicity has no equal. When government is harmonious, people’s hearts are at peace; when people’s hearts are at peace, Heaven and Earth are in harmony. When Heaven and Earth are in harmony, all things can grow and come to fruition. When all things flourish, ghosts and spirits are at peace. When ghosts and spirits are at peace, hidden places each find their proper place, and no calamity arises in the visible world. People then return De to the ghosts, and the ghosts respond to people with De, so the world becomes clear and peaceful. Laozi said that when the world is governed through the Dao, ghosts and spirits do not manifest to cause trouble. Liezi said that when all things are free of calamity and illness, ghosts and spirits make no uncanny sounds. Both statements express this principle.

Bixu’s commentary says: Being a sage in stillness and a king in action both take Wuwei (non-action) as supreme and simplicity as beautiful. Heaven and Earth take ease and simplicity as their De; ease and simplicity are the root of all things. When the root is kept and not lost, human affairs are harmonious.

By following nature, the Qi of Yin and Yang flows freely and harmoniously. Natural growth, natural flourishing, natural endurance, and natural change are neither deliberately sought nor brought about by skill. Because they are not made subject to external things, they are called “heavenly joy”—the joy that arises from following nature. All things find their own happiness and live in harmony with one another; in acting, they do not cling to “movement,” and in stillness, they do not cling to “stillness.” One whose mind and spirit are settled is not swept along by the transformations of creation or altered by Yin and Yang, and is never separate from the Great Void, the vast, empty realm of nature. The sage’s mind can nurture everyone under Heaven through nothing more than preserving Great Harmony, the balanced state of Yin and Yang.

Yanzhai says, “In stillness, one is a sage; in action, a ruler.” This is “inner sagehood and outer kingship”: cultivating sagehood inwardly and ruling as a king outwardly. This principle is plain and unadorned; nothing under Heaven surpasses its beauty. Those who understand the virtue of Heaven and Earth can live alongside Heaven. “Harmony” also means coming together. The “great foundation and great source”—the root and guiding principle—is praise for the virtue of nature, and means the same as “being one’s own source and root.” Bringing harmony to the world by this principle enables one to accord with other people. As Yao said, “You accord with Heaven; I accord with people.”

The lines beginning “The utmost does not act through cleverness” appear in “The Great Ancestral Teacher” chapter, where they are originally attributed to Xu You. Here they are also introduced with “Zhuangzi said,” showing that this is a parable and should not be taken as a historical record. “The course of Heaven” means following the natural movement of the principles of Heaven; “transformation of things” means changing along with the changes of all things. Stillness belongs to Yin, and movement to Yang; both are states of natural flow. Confucians speak only of “not resenting Heaven or blaming others.” Here, the text also says not to be burdened by external things or punished by spirits and deities. These spirits and deities refer simply to a person’s mental and spiritual state: a scattered spirit is called “chong,” and an exhausted spirit “pi.” When the mind is settled, the spirit naturally settles, and all things submit. Letting the principle of emptiness and stillness operate among all things between Heaven and Earth is what is meant by “heavenly joy.” To nurture everyone under Heaven by this principle is to care for people through the good Way, so that the world comes into accord.

The Dao in a person appears as sagehood in stillness and kingship in action. In either case, Wuwei (non-action) is held in highest esteem, and simplicity is prized, just as in the virtue of Heaven and Earth. Do Heaven and Earth ever act deliberately or strive for ornament? And yet Yin and Yang and the four seasons all move in their courses, while the sun, moon, mountains, and rivers all display their radiance. Once this principle is understood, the foundation and guiding purpose of the world are established. This “source and foundation” is the Way of inner sagehood and outer kingship, and the harmony that accords with Heaven. Bringing harmony to the world through it enables one to live in harmony with other people. Human joy and heavenly joy both arise from harmony; their names differ, but the source of their happiness is the same. Likewise, sagehood and kingship differ as inward and outward roles, but the Dao on which they depend is one and the same.

As long as he did not violate the nature of things, he made no deliberate display of benevolence and virtue in governing worldly affairs. He forgot the distinction between good and evil.

He even forgot the difference between long and short lifespans, and between greater and lesser skill. He was no longer constrained by changing times or limited abilities. What the teacher of Nanhua—that is, Zhuangzi—taught was simply this: life follows the Way of Heaven and unfolds naturally; death accompanies the transformations of all things and returns to transformation. Movement always comes to an end. When movement and stillness alike accord with the Way of Heaven, one will not incur Heaven’s resentment or the world’s criticism, be burdened by external things, or suffer punishment from spirits.

This also explains why he could live at ease. In action, he followed the seasons of Heaven; in stillness, he returned to Earth. His De was one with Heaven and Earth, and he flowed along with the myriad things. With his thoughts settled and nothing forced, people throughout the world would come to him. Without punishment from spirits, spirits could not cause trouble; without burdens from external things, the spirit would not be exhausted. If one’s conduct is blameless in both darkness and light, how could the myriad things fail to submit? There is no other mystery to it: one simply puts into practice, throughout Heaven and Earth, the principle of utmost emptiness and steadfast stillness, allowing it to permeate the myriad things. Could the sage’s mind, used to care for the world, go beyond this principle?

The virtue of rulers takes Heaven and Earth as its foundation, Dao and De as its guiding principle, and Wuwei (non-action) as its constant way. With Wuwei, one can draw on the strength of the world and still have energy to spare. With deliberate action, one is made a servant of worldly affairs and finds one’s strength insufficient. That is why the ancients valued Wuwei.

If those above practice Wuwei and those below do so as well, then their De is the same. When their De is the same, there is no longer a distinction between ruler and minister. If those below act and those above act too, then both follow the same way of managing affairs. When they follow the same way, there is no longer a distinction between master and subordinate. Therefore, those above must practice Wuwei to make use of the world, while those below must act in order to serve the world. This principle cannot be changed.

Thus, the rulers of ancient times had wisdom enough to understand Heaven and Earth, yet did not think things through for themselves; eloquence enough to analyze the myriad things, yet took no pleasure in their own eloquence; and ability enough to accomplish anything in the world, yet did not labor for themselves. Heaven does not produce things by acting, yet the myriad things come into being naturally. Earth does not grow things by acting, yet the myriad things are nurtured naturally. The emperor practices Wuwei, yet the affairs of the world are accomplished. Nothing is more wondrous than Heaven, nothing more abundant than Earth, and nothing greater than the position of the emperor. The saying “the emperor’s De is matched with Heaven and Earth” refers to following Heaven and Earth, directing the myriad things, and making use of the ministers.

The foundation of governing the state lies with the ruler; the practical affairs lie with the ministers. The essentials lie with the ruler; the detailed execution lies with the ministers. The deployment of troops and weapons is the final detail of virtuous government. Rewards and punishments, benefits and harms, and the penalties of the Five Punishments are the final details of instruction. Rituals, laws, institutions, titles, and comparative assessments are the final details of administration. The sounds of bells and drums and the bearing of feathered banners in dance are the final details of music.

Weeping, wearing mourning clothes, and distinguishing mourning periods according to degrees of kinship are all secondary expressions of grief. These five forms of ritual described above emerge only after feelings and thoughts have first arisen within; the forms follow afterward. The ancients, too, observed these outward practices, but they were not the first matters to discuss.

The ruler comes first and the ministers follow; the father comes first and the son follows; the elder brother comes first and the younger brother follows; the older come first and the younger follow; the man comes first and the woman follows; a married woman follows her husband. The order of noble and humble, of what comes first and what comes after, is a pattern of how Heaven and Earth operate. Thus the sages took Heaven and Earth as their model: Heaven is noble and Earth humble, reflecting the order of the spirits; spring and summer come before autumn and winter, following the sequence of the four seasons; all things grow and develop, sprout and take shape, then move toward flourishing and decline—this is the process of change and transformation.

Heaven and Earth are wondrous beyond measure, yet they still have an order of precedence and rank. How much more so must this be true of human relationships? Ancestral temples give priority to kinship, the court to noble status, village life to age, and public affairs to the capable. These are all ordered by the Dao. To speak of the Dao without following its order is to depart from the Dao. If what one says does not accord with the Dao, how can one claim to be speaking of it?

Therefore, those in ancient times who truly understood the Dao first explained the Way of Heaven, then spoke of De. Once De had been explained, they spoke of benevolence and righteousness. Once benevolence and righteousness had been explained, they spoke of roles and rules. Once roles and rules had been explained, they spoke of the correspondence between names and actual forms. Once names and forms had been explained, they spoke of appointing people according to their actual abilities. Once appointments had been explained, they spoke of tracing matters to their roots and examining them for verification. Once verification had been explained, they spoke of distinguishing right from wrong. Only after right and wrong had been clarified did they finally speak of rewards and punishments.

Once rewards and punishments had been clarified, fools and the wise could each find their proper place, and the noble and the lowly could each occupy their proper position. The benevolent and worthy, as well as the unbenevolent and unworthy, were treated according to their true qualities. Each person’s abilities were put to use in accordance with their status and duties. To serve those above, manage those below, govern all things, and cultivate oneself by these principles—without relying on clever schemes, but returning to the natural Way of Heaven—is called great peace, the highest achievement of governance.

An ancient text therefore says, “There are forms, and there are names.” The teaching of forms and names was known to the ancients, too, but it was not the first matter to discuss. In speaking of the Dao, the ancients passed through five stages before they could discuss forms and names, and nine before they could discuss rewards and punishments. To speak of forms and names prematurely is not to understand their foundation; to speak of rewards and punishments prematurely is not to understand where they begin.

To discuss the Dao in the wrong order and explain it in ways that go against it is the condition of those who need to be governed. How could such people govern others? Those who speak prematurely of forms and names, and of rewards and punishments, grasp only the tools of governance; they do not understand its Way. Such people may be put to use by the world, but they are not fit to govern it. They are called disputants who understand only one part.

Ritual rules, standards, penal codes, classifications, comparisons, and inspections have existed since ancient times. They are all meant to assist the ruler, not for the ruler to use in imposing labor on his ministers.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says that when a ruler governs the realm and still has time to spare, this is called “Wuwei (non-action).” If the ruler anxiously seeks to make all things serve his own purposes, he can gain only the standing of a minister. Yet once he becomes a minister, he has no time to spare.

A craftsperson does not carve wood with their own hands but makes use of an axe; a ruler does not personally handle every government matter but makes use of ministers. Ministers can carry out tasks themselves, and rulers can appoint ministers; an axe can carve wood, and a craftsperson can use an axe. Each brings their strengths to bear without deliberate coercion. If the ruler does the ministers’ work for them, he abandons his role as ruler. If ministers take hold of the ruler’s power, they are no longer ministers. Each performs their own duties, and those above and below each find their proper place: this is the principle of Wuwei.

Those who govern the realm naturally do take action, but they act in accord with their own nature, which is why their way is called “Wuwei.” Those who work for the realm are the same, except that those in lower positions must handle affairs themselves. Thus even when Shun and Yu served as ministers, they could be said to have been “active.” In the relationship between ruler and subject, above and below, the ruler is still while the ministers act. In the difference between one age and another, Yao and Shun practiced Wuwei, while Kings Tang of Shang and Wu of Zhou took action. Each followed their own nature, and the generative force of Heaven’s natural workings moved accordingly. In this light, whether in ancient or modern times, above or below, who can say absolutely which person acts without action and which acts?

Those in high positions should be most wary of failing to practice Wuwei and instead taking over the duties of their ministers. If Gao Yao, the legendary worthy minister responsible for penal law, is prevented from exercising sound judgment, and Hou Ji, the legendary official of agriculture, is unable to promote sowing and cultivation, then people of every ability will be unable to fulfill their responsibilities, while the ruler himself will be trapped in a mass of affairs. The ruler should therefore lower the strings of his ceremonial crown—jade pendants symbolizing that he need not inspect every matter personally—and entrust affairs to the people of the realm, so that everyone can put their abilities to use. This is Wuwei, through which nothing is left undone.

Heaven and Earth nurture and transform the myriad things, and each thing grows and changes on its own. This is what is meant by “happening naturally.” The emperor practices Wuwei, yet the realm’s achievements are brought to completion; the people and ministers accomplish them for themselves. This is just like the Wuwei of Heaven and Earth. Spirit, thought, and strategy are the basis of the five outward affairs. Let them operate naturally, and the other five affairs need not be prompted one by one; they will rouse themselves. The key, then, is first to settle what guides things inwardly.

The precedence between ruler and minister, and between father and son, belongs to human affairs, yet each is contained within ultimate principle; the sages did not invent them from nothing. One must understand that distinctions of rank and order of precedence have a natural pattern. Order is not a concern only of human relationships; the Great Dao itself has such an order. Precisely because it accords with nature, the myriad things can each follow their own Dao. When each thing follows its own Dao, harmony and order arise naturally and find their proper measure.

When each thing keeps its proper place, each can receive its due. All things accord with their own form; when those forms are clear, nothing needs further alteration. When each thing rests in its proper place, blame can be avoided. To follow one’s nature is right; to go against it is wrong. Rewards and punishments are the returns for gain and loss.

Whether foolish or wise, high or low in rank, each should perform a role suited to their abilities and do what lies within their capacity, without taking one another’s place. In this way, titles accord with reality, and name and substance do not become confused.

From the fundamental order of Heaven and Earth, through punishments and distinctions of rank, to rewards and penalties: these are nine levels, all part of the natural order. Those who govern the people must follow this order. To understand the Way of Heaven is not to abolish rewards and punishments, but to grasp what comes first and what follows, and keep the sequence from falling into disorder. Those who govern the world must understand the principle of following the order and enable everyone’s abilities to be put to use. This is how those in high positions employ and nurture those below them.

Lü’s Commentary: Practicing Wuwei (non-action)—not forcing things through personal will—means that one person governs the world while everyone else each plays their part, so there is strength to spare. To act with deliberate effort means making everyone in the world serve one person, leaving that person with too little strength. If one does not understand the Way of Heaven, De is not pure. De means nothing other than Wuwei. Thus, those in high positions practice Wuwei, and those below them also practice Wuwei: each follows nature and accords with those above. This is called De.

The Dao, however, encompasses both the Way of Heaven and the way of human beings. What is Wuwei and exalted belongs to the Way of Heaven; what involves deliberate effort and brings entanglement belongs to the human way. So if those below also act with deliberate effort, those above will do the same as they do: this is the human way. Those in high positions should practice Wuwei and let everyone in the world make full use of their abilities. Those below should act and serve everyone in the world. This is an unchanging principle.

Thus, the ancient kings who ruled the world did not think things through themselves, yet the people of the world thought on their behalf. They did not express joy themselves, yet the people expressed it on their behalf. They did not act themselves, yet the people acted on their behalf. Heaven does not produce things by its own effort, yet all things transform and come into being naturally. Earth does not grow things by its own effort, yet all things are naturally nourished. This does not mean that Heaven itself brings all things forth, or that Earth itself nourishes them. The emperors practiced Wuwei, yet the achievements of the world were accomplished; this does not mean that the emperors accomplished them personally. For this reason, Heaven appears wondrous, Earth appears abundant, and the emperors appear great.

Wuwei is how the Dao governs Heaven and Earth, sets all things in motion, and directs the people. To accomplish the fine details of particular tasks, one must still draw on spirit, thought, and planning before putting them into practice. Therefore, the emptiness, tranquility, stillness, and Wuwei mentioned earlier are methods for nourishing the spirit, discerning the workings of the mind, and cultivating the root. Once the root is nourished, the branches and leaves will naturally come to fruition. The ancients also studied the learning of details and particulars; it is simply that this is not…

The ruler takes precedence, and the ministers follow; the husband takes precedence, and the wife follows. This is how the order of higher and lower is expressed in human society. Heaven dwells above by virtue of its wondrous power, while Earth rests below by virtue of its bright nature. Spring and summer bring forth the growth of all things and come first; autumn and winter bring them to maturity and come later. When things first come into being, they begin as sprouts and then grow into formed bodies. From the subtle to the manifest, nothing develops without trace. Thus, the changes of flourishing and decline each follow an established principle that cannot be altered at will.

The wondrous depths of Heaven and Earth are unfathomable, yet they still have an order of higher and lower, of precedence and succession. How, then, could the distinctions between root and branch, above and below, in human relationships be changed? The order among ruler and minister, father and son, elder and younger brothers, and husband and wife certainly arises from the principles of Heaven and Earth. The ancestral temple, the court, the village, and daily conduct all have standards that ought to be honored and must not be confused. These are all forms of order encompassed by the Great Dao. If one speaks of the Dao without following its order, how can one speak of the Dao at all? This is why the various schools of thought each strayed away and could not return to the right path; the way of the sage kings was consequently obscured and could not be made clear.

Heaven is the fundamental standard of nature and life. If one wishes to understand the Dao but does not understand Heaven, then the Dao one speaks of is not the true Dao, and the De one speaks of is not true De. Only the true Dao and true De are the source of benevolence and righteousness. Benevolence stands to the left and righteousness to the right, meaning that each has its own bounds and duties. In this way, conduct is clear and one’s proper status can be explained. When statuses and laws are clear and unconfused, people can be appointed to positions suited to them, and their abilities will not be buried. Examine the heart within and observe conduct without, and right and wrong can be distinguished. When rewards and punishments accord with principle, the foolish and the wise each remain in their place and dare not overstep; the honored and the humble each fulfill their duties and dare not usurp another’s place. Whether benevolent, capable, or unworthy, people act according to their true nature and dare not feign what they are not.

When duties are assigned according to ability, those in office can carry out their work well; when people act according to their proper status, their status accords with reality. Whether serving those above, governing those below, handling affairs, or cultivating oneself, one should take this as the standard. If one’s plans cannot be put into practice, one should submit to the way of Heaven. King Wen of Zhou did not deliberately seek knowledge or contrive his actions; he simply followed the principles of the way of Heaven. The many worthy men of the Zhou likewise upheld King Wen’s De and honored the Mandate of Heaven. Thus they brought about a peaceful and flourishing age, one worthy of comparison with the golden ages of Tang Yao and Yu Shun.

If one speaks only of laws, statuses, rewards, and punishments, without knowing their source, is that source not Heaven, the Dao, and De? To reverse the order is to lose propriety; to take the branches for the root is to violate what is constant. To put what should come later first is to go against the natural order. If one speaks of the Dao without discussing root and branch, or precedence and succession, one will fall into disorder oneself; once one is in disorder, people...

What is the principle of governing the state?

Yidu, a commentator on the Yihai cuanwei, explains: An emperor’s virtue takes Heaven and Earth as its foundation, and so can cover and sustain all things as Heaven and Earth do. The emperor also takes Dao and De as his foundation, and so nothing can alter him. If he constantly abides in Wuwei (non-action), nothing remains undone. If he acts through deliberate action, something will often be left wanting; if he acts through Wuwei, he can instead bring matters to completion. This is why the ancients valued Wuwei.

Wuwei is the way of acting for those in a superior position; deliberate action is the way of acting for those in a subordinate position. Those above measure things by the Dao and can therefore govern all things. Those below follow rules and regulations and must therefore attend to specific affairs. If those above cannot govern all things, they lack the virtue of an emperor. If those below do not attend to specific affairs, they fail in the duties of ministers. This is the distinction between higher and lower positions.

The ancient kings who governed all under Heaven acted in accord with the Dao, following the patterns inherent in things. They never revealed traces of contrived action. They possessed wisdom, yet did not use it as the basis for their own schemes; they were eloquent, yet did not take delight in their own powers of speech; they were capable, yet did not make their abilities into deliberate acts. Their virtue worked in harmony with the way Heaven and Earth transform and nurture all things. Thus, although they practiced Wuwei, the achievements of the realm were brought to completion.

The wondrous power lies in transforming and nurturing all things; the power of abundance lies in sustaining them. Heaven can transform all things, but cannot nourish them as Earth does. Earth can nourish all things, but cannot be as wondrous as Heaven. The emperor combines Heaven’s wondrous power with Earth’s abundance, and his virtue fills the space between Heaven and Earth. This is what the Yijing means by “the sage brings capabilities to fulfillment.” It is the way to master Heaven and Earth, direct the myriad things, and make good use of the people.

What is above form is the root of the Dao; what is below form is its branches. The root is simple, while the branches are many. The ruler’s way calls for Wuwei, and so it grasps the root; the minister’s way calls for deliberate action, and so it attends to details. The “five branches” mentioned below refer to these specific affairs. When the emperor holds fast to the most important principles and grasps the root, the details naturally fall into place. Ministers, by contrast, must take responsibility according to their roles and each manage their own affairs. They must apply their minds, consider and plan, and work diligently; only then can matters be accomplished.

Rules and regulations began in the time of Fuxi and gradually reached completion in the time of Yao. Once they had taken shape, later generations arose who studied and followed them. But they did not know that what should be followed first and foremost is the Dao. Thus, the ruler comes before the minister, and the father before the son: this is the natural order.

“Spirit” refers to the utmost subtlety of wondrous action; “illumination” refers to the more evident, visible aspect of that wondrous action. Heaven occupies the honored position and embodies spirit; Earth occupies the humble position and embodies discernment. These are the respective places of spirit and illumination. Spring and summer come first, autumn and winter follow. The sage accords with this sequence, bestowing rewards first and imposing punishments afterward…

The transition from the formless into the formed, and the changes that follow, occur through movement and transformation along with bodily form. Sprouting is the beginning of all things becoming visible and taking on distinctions. Things differ from one another precisely because each has its own form and distinguishing features.

Though the life and death, distinctions, flourishing and decline, transformations, and shapes of all things differ, they all return to nature, simply following the order of the seasons. How much more should the great matters of human relationships be this way? The highest principle of nature has its source in Heaven and Earth, while its workings spread through human relationships. If their proper order is lost, Heaven’s Dao is defied and human relationships are abandoned. Could that still be called the Dao?

All things depend on it for their existence, and everything between Heaven and Earth comes from it: this is the Dao. When the Dao takes shape within me, it is called De (Virtue/Power). Acting with De to care for others is called benevolence; caring for others in a way that accords with reason is called righteousness. Distinguishing what comes first and what follows, what is higher and lower, is called proper division. Refraining from intrusion and from exceeding one’s authority is called keeping to one’s bounds.

Form is the concrete appearance of a thing; a name is the designation given to it. One should assign things duties suited to their forms and names. To do so, one must first understand the actual circumstances, then examine the particular matters, and only then distinguish right from wrong and determine rewards and punishments. Let the foolish and the wise each find their proper place, and the noble and the lowly each be at ease in theirs. Let the benevolent, the worthy, and the unworthy each act according to their abilities, without using outward distinctions to conceal what is real. Since abilities vary, a person’s standing must accord with the facts.

Use these principles to serve those above and care for those below, to govern affairs and cultivate oneself. Then cleverness and schemes will have no place to operate, and people will return to nature. This is the highest form of governance.

The Book quoted in this text is an ancient work that has been lost. Everything that has a name is named according to its form; in this way, the Dao is also found throughout all things. Viewed through the Dao, it precedes remote antiquity and comes before Heaven and Earth. It has never had form or name, so it cannot be confined by saying it came “first.”

“Five” is one state in the movement of Yin-Yang. What is called “destiny” is how things receive their defining attributes. Only at this stage can things be named; after five transformations, forms and names can be established. “Nine” is the extreme of the yang numbers. Rewards and punishments must be measured against the times and adapted as circumstances change; they too belong to the final stage of the Dao’s operation. Only after nine transformations can rewards and punishments be discussed. Penal rules and names mark the Dao’s final reach, while rewards and punishments mark the end of its operation. To speak of the Dao without seeking its roots and beginnings is to turn things upside down and go against reason.

Those who are governed understand the tools used in governing; those who govern others understand the Dao of governance. People who understand only the tools of governance may be employed by the world, but that is not enough to govern the world. Such people are like skilled debaters: they understand only one part of the Dao, and so are obscured by its principles.

The Detailed Commentary on the Dao says: “First insert the needle, then pass the thread through, and a canopy can be woven; first pass the thread through, and then…”

A needle cannot sew a garment by itself. Even something as fine and small as needle and thread requires order. How much more so does the Dao?

When Zhuangzi discusses the human way, he explains the ethics of ruler and minister, father and son. When he discusses the Way of Heaven, he reasons from the regular cycles of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. From the Way of Heaven to the rectification of names and duties—clarifying ranks, responsibilities, and what things actually are—he explains how the myriad things follow their own nature and each fulfills its own character. When he turns to rewards and punishments, he shows that these are methods of governing human affairs. A ruler should first respond to things as they are and appoint suitable people. If that is not enough, he should investigate and examine; if investigation and examination are still not enough, he should distinguish right from wrong; and if that still does not suffice, he should use rewards and punishments. Rewards and punishments are not the fundamental principle of governing all under Heaven, but they are among the means of government.

Bóchĕng Zǐgāo, a legendary sage of antiquity, left because Yu employed rewards and punishments. This was a way of criticizing Yu for treating the final details of moral instruction as its foundation. The myriad things have roots and branches; affairs have beginnings and ends. The rectification of names and duties concerns specific matters, so to speak of it abruptly on its own is to miss its foundation. Rewards and punishments belong to the final details, so to speak of them abruptly on their own is to miss where affairs begin.

Bixu’s commentary says: Take Heaven and Earth as your guiding principle, and do not claim to stand above others. Make the Dao and De your guiding principles, and do not treat yourself as a guest. Take Wuwei as your constant way; hold to it without boasting, and you will have room to spare. A ruler who is loyal, generous, and tolerant embodies benevolence. A minister who fulfills his duties and brings affairs to a proper conclusion embodies righteousness. The ruler should let his robes hang and fold his hands, governing through Wuwei. If he personally handles affairs like a minister, he gives up his place as ruler. A minister should fulfill his duties, handle affairs, and act energetically. If he is tolerant of everything like a ruler, he ceases to be a minister.

The ruler does not monopolize authority, but appoints his ministers so each can make full use of his abilities; in this way, he governs all under Heaven through Wuwei. The ministers each take responsibility for their duties and handle affairs diligently; through their action, they serve all under Heaven. From this we can see that understanding the principles of Heaven and Earth requires gathering the plans of many people; discerning the myriad things requires listening to the views of many people; and governing the four seas likewise depends on the efforts of many. This is the work of Wuwei.

Heaven and Earth send down Qi to nourish the myriad things, so nothing is more wondrous than Heaven. Earth’s Qi rises, bringing change to the myriad things, so nothing is more abundant than Earth. An emperor can govern himself and bring his achievements to completion; in this way, his De accords with Heaven and Earth.

“Root” refers to principles, while “branch” refers to affairs. Principles are concise and essential, and are what the ruler should master. Affairs are numerous and detailed, and are the ministers’ responsibility. Though root and branch differ, both depend on the animating spirit that carries things through: first, the mind grasps the fundamental principles, then puts them into practice in concrete affairs. Affairs unfold in sequence, taking shape according to the conditions of the myriad things. Yet only a sage can model the order of Heaven and Earth and establish instruction in its proper sequence. With the Dao as the guiding principle, once laws and standards are established, benefits and harms become clear. Then rewards and punishments can be assigned according to rank and differences in ability.

People pursue fame and seek the truth. The nine points above are the main principles for governing and educating the world. Only after five transformations can the laws of punishments and titles be put into practice; only after nine transformations can the principles of rewards and punishments be made clear. This describes how the Yang number reaches its limit, bringing transformation in its wake.

Punishments and titles should be rooted in the principles of Heaven and in De, or Virtue. Rewards and punishments, by contrast, begin with concrete institutions such as penal procedures, ranks, and official objects. If one relies entirely on rewards and punishments, does that not turn root and branch upside down? If speech loses its proper order, does that not go against reason? Punishments, titles, rewards, and penalties are tools of governance; the subtlety lies in how those tools are used, while their proper order is the method of governing. Only by understanding how things work can one govern all under Heaven. Names, institutions, and ritual teachings are the basis on which ministers serve their ruler. Wuwei (non-action), allowing the myriad things to transform of themselves, is how the ruler nurtures the ministers.

Yanzhai says: “Heaven and Earth give life to the myriad things and make them grow, displaying both grandeur and subtle workings. Yet things come into being of themselves; Heaven does not deliberately bring them forth. Things grow of themselves; Earth does not consciously make them grow. The emperors and kings act through Wuwei, yet accomplish the work of all under Heaven. Their function is likewise that of Heaven and Earth. The key is for the ruler to follow the Way of Wuwei; ministers, for their part, should each fulfill their duties and act with initiative. Military might and civil virtue assist in governing, so taking up weapons is a secondary aspect of virtuous rule. Making the laws clear to support instruction means that rewards and punishments, as well as the Five Punishments, are also secondary to education. Ritual laws, punishments and titles, and objects such as bells, drums, banners, and plumes are not the root of ritual and music. Ritual patterns and music emerge only after the spirit has moved and the mind’s methods have been set in motion. The ‘words’ spoken of here all arise from within; they are not imposed from outside. The ancients too sometimes gave attention to secondary matters, but these were not what should be considered first. This is a subtle point. It seems Zhuangzi did not reject the use of military force, punishments, ritual, and music in every case; what matters is understanding the proper order of things. The workings of Heaven and Earth do not all flourish at the same time, nor do they all decline at the same time. Thus ‘killing,’ as well as honoring elders, those of high rank, one’s kin, and the worthy, are all principles that arise naturally in the world.”

The text then sets out, in order, nine levels of governing the world. These are all methods for assigning duties and keeping each person to their proper role. Punishments and titles means defining names and offices. Assigning duties according to capacity means allocating responsibilities according to the offices people hold. Review and dismissal means examining faults and granting leniency; those who are unfit are relieved of their posts and replaced. Right and wrong means distinguishing good from evil. Rewards and punishments include recording offenses with the lash and recognizing merit with carriages, horses, and clothing. Placing the foolish and the wise where they belong means giving people of different abilities their proper roles. Matching words to position means ensuring that what people say accords with their status and duties. Fulfilling one’s role and settling into what is real means enabling people to be at ease in their true responsibilities. Finally, ability becomes evident through one’s title, each person finds a fitting place, partiality falls away, and people return to what is natural.

Though the ancient books discuss punishments and titles, they never abandon the root to pursue only the branches. Without understanding the proper order of things, governance will go astray.

Whenever discussion proceeds in haste, it loses sight of the root. This approach begins with human intentions and then puts them to use as though they were the Dao of Heaven. Yet methods for governing the world are not the same as the fundamental way of governing it.

Penal laws, titles, rewards, and punishments are tools used in governance. Assigning duties, holding people accountable, and observing benevolence and righteousness are the Dao of governance. “Xingming” (刑名) is also written “xingming” (形名); both forms are used in ancient books.

What is so special about taking Heaven and Earth as the root and Dao and De as one’s guiding principles? It simply means making Wuwei (non-action) the constant way. Wuwei is already difficult to practice; how much harder it is to uphold it consistently without changing with circumstances. This is precisely what the ancients prized.

Wuwei and action determine the distinctions between ruler and minister, and between those above and below. If this principle is violated, the ruler cannot govern, and the minister is no longer truly a minister. Wisdom that does not scheme from self-interest, eloquence that does not seek to please oneself, and ability that does not arise from personal showmanship: these are the foundations of Wuwei. Heaven does not deliberately produce the myriad things, yet they arise naturally; Earth does not deliberately nurture them, yet they grow naturally. When an emperor acts without acting, the achievements of the world can be brought to completion. This is the efficacy of Wuwei. Its efficacy can be summed up as mysterious, abundant, and vast. The emperor’s De can thereby match Heaven and Earth and guide the myriad things. Employing the people is merely a matter beyond this.

As for the fundamental principles, the earlier discussion did not yet explain the natural order in detail. From armies and weapons to the regulation of dress and rank, these are all secondary matters, yet they still must be put into operation through the spirit and the mind. The ancients did not discard such matters; they simply did not place them first.

The ranks and precedence among ruler and minister, father and son, and husband and wife cannot be casually reversed, just as Heaven is high and Earth is low. The sages took this as their model. The positions of the spirits are clearly ordered above and below; the seasons proceed in sequence; the myriad things take shape in their own forms, and through this the changes of flourishing and decline become apparent. This is the order of Heaven and Earth, and the principle people should follow. The various affairs of ancestral temples, courts, and villages each have their proper order; the Dao is present within them. If one speaks of the Dao but says nothing of order, what value does that Dao have?

Therefore, one must first understand the Dao of Heaven, and then Dao and De. Benevolent people, worthy people, the unworthy, the carrying forward of old affections, and adapting to circumstances all follow from this and are indispensable. Duties must be assigned according to people’s abilities, so that their results can be assessed; actual conduct must also be checked against titles and roles. These are essential ways to serve one’s ruler, direct those below, manage affairs, and cultivate oneself; nothing lies beyond this scope. If one can refrain from using private schemes and return to the natural, this is the highest form of governance in an age of great peace.

The later quotation from the Book of Documents, “to nurture the world to the utmost,” probably continues the point made above and fills out what the earlier passage had left unsaid.

Collected Subtle Interpretations of the Meaning of the True Classic of Nanhua, fascicle 41.