《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 45

Zigong said, “So are there really people like this in the world? They sit still, yet appear like dragons; their voices ring like thunder, yet they are deep and quiet. Once they act, they move like Heaven and Earth. Can your disciple meet such a person?”

Zigong then went in Confucius’s name to visit Lao Dan (Laozi). Lao Dan was leaning back on a couch in the hall and replied lazily, “I am old, and my days are few. What words do you wish to offer me as counsel?”

Zigong said, “The Three Kings and Five Emperors governed the world in different ways, yet all sought fame. Why did the former kings single them out as unworthy of being called sages?”

Lao Dan said, “Young man, come closer. I will tell you how the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors governed the world. When the Yellow Emperor governed, he brought the people’s hearts into accord. If someone’s parents died and they did not weep, the people did not think this wrong. When Yao governed, he taught people to love their parents. If someone wore lighter or heavier mourning clothes for a parent, the people did not think this wrong. When Shun governed, he made people eager to compete and prevail. A woman would carry a child for ten months and give birth, and by five months old the child could speak. Before reaching the age of babbling, children were already arguing over right and wrong. From this time on, people began to die young. When Yu governed, he changed the people’s hearts: they began to scheme, and war came to be seen as justified. Killing a thief was not considered killing a person; this notion arose on its own, and people throughout the world simply let it be. Then the world was thrown into great turmoil, and the Confucians and Mohists both emerged. At first they still spoke with some order; now even women must chatter on without end.

“I tell you, the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors claimed to govern the world, but in truth the world was never more chaotic. The wisdom of the Three Sovereigns defied the light of the sun and moon above, went against the nature of mountains and rivers below, and disrupted the order of the seasons between. Their wisdom was more venomous than a scorpion’s tail; even the tiniest creatures could not live out their nature and true life. Such people still considered themselves sages. Should they not be ashamed of their own shamelessness?”

Zigong stood there, uneasy and at a loss.

Guo Xiang’s commentary: “If someone’s parents died and they did not weep, the people did not think this wrong” means that, if they had thought it wrong, people would have forced themselves to weep. “Wore lighter or heavier mourning clothes for a parent” refers to the different degrees of mourning prescribed for relatives. “A child could speak by five months old…” (The original text ends here unfinished.)

“Too rapid an education” means that children are selected for instruction before they reach adulthood and taught how to compete for advantage among people. Once people set their minds on comparing themselves with one another, they compete over whom to draw close to and whom to keep at a distance. Thus they find it difficult to live out their natural span.

Once warfare is regarded as righteous, the world will give rise to things that oppose it; thieves and bandits will appear as well. Killing cannot truly put an end to killing, much less bring all things into harmony. Instead, it leads people to make distinctions for themselves and contend with one another. Each person treats himself as a separate category and pursues a way of governing that can span generations, while demanding that it adapt to the changes of the present. In the end, the resulting ills grow to this extent. Yu was not responsible for them; this is simply the condition of the world. Accounts of the various deeds of the sages and the wise were not intended to disturb the world, yet they inevitably gave rise to such disorder. Confucianism and Mohism both emerged from this, and their rise was itself an accumulated ill of many generations.

Today, when a woman marries, contradictions arise between husband and wife and between those above and below them. This does not mean that those who first established the rites and laws were unreasonable. Rather, the principles they set forth gradually gave rise to harmful effects, eventually reaching this point. What can one say about that? Even when the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors governed the world, they could not escape such ills.

Zigong had initially thought that Laozi alone surpassed the Three Kings, and so wanted to place the Three Kings on a par with the Five Emperors. Now he hears that Laozi rejects even the Five Emperors and traces the matter back to the Three Sovereigns. He cannot understand what grounds Laozi’s argument, and so feels unsettled.

Lü’s commentary says: Laozi compares the heart of benevolence and righteousness to chaff blown up into one’s eyes, and the bites of mosquitoes and flies to vexation. It is therefore understandable that he does not regard the Five Emperors and Three Kings as true sages. Zigong, however, pursues the matter through yielding and contention, compliance and defiance—all of which are merely the most superficial signs. Judged by these signs, changing the people’s hearts may indeed be better achieved through affection among kin and love for one another, or by bringing everyone into an undivided whole. Yet whatever approach one takes, so long as one governs the world, one cannot avoid making the people develop a sense of distinction. In name, one claims to govern; in fact, this is where the world’s disorder begins. If one relies solely on cleverness, are the Five Emperors and Three Kings the only ones to suffer its harm? Even the cleverness of the Three Sovereigns would make what is above run counter to the movement of the sun and moon, and what is below depart from the natural order of mountains and rivers. The calamities caused by such cleverness are more deadly even than the sting of a scorpion’s tail.

Wild beasts hide in the mountains and forests, roaming at night and resting by day. Even when hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, they keep far away from people along rivers and lakes. This shows how frightening the turmoil of human society has become. Zigong heard that Laozi rejected the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, but did not understand why he said so; that is why he appeared uneasy.

Lin’s commentary says: “Sitting like a corpse, appearing like a dragon; resounding like thunder, silent like an abyss” describes the state of the spiritual person—that is, the person who, in Daoist thought, transcends ordinary worldly conventions. At rest, this person is quiet as a corpse; when appearing, he changes like a dragon. When he speaks, he is like thunder; when silent, he is like a deep abyss. “Arrogant” means sitting at ease without deliberately adopting an expression; “responding to the subtle” means responding because one has no choice. “The years turn and pass” means that time has gone by and one has grown old. The Three Kings and Five Emperors are titles for sages who governed the world.

At a lower level are the deeds of sages. Their deeds differ, and people therefore become attached to them; this is why Lao Dan criticized them. As for the sages’ original intentions, they were no different. Yu controlled the floods and so had to make arduous efforts. Tang of Shang attacked Jie of Xia and so had to use armed force. King Wen of Zhou submitted to the Shang, while King Wu of Zhou attacked Zhou of Shang; thus their methods were different.

In the age of the Yellow Emperor, people did not love only their own relatives, nor care only for their own children. Some people therefore did not weep when a relative died, and the world did not consider this wrong. This was because the Yellow Emperor governed the world by relying wholly on the Way of Heaven. When Yao established laws and regulations, governance shifted from following the Way of Heaven to guiding people’s hearts. People had already grown close to one another, but ritual and law were still incomplete. So when someone killed during the mourning period for a relative, the people did not consider this wrong. By the time of Shun, governance relied entirely on the human way. People no longer loved only their own relatives, and a spirit of rivalry had also arisen among them.

The age of simple sincerity gradually faded, and people’s unadorned nature was damaged. The Great Dao declined, and ideas of benevolence and righteousness arose; people’s desires, too, began to flourish. A pregnant woman carries a child for ten months before giving birth, yet people teach children too early: by five months old, a child can speak. Before reaching the age of a young child, they can already distinguish “who is who.” If the innocent heart—the childlike, pure nature—can be lost so easily, is the realm of the spirit-like person who lives forever not already very far away?

By the time of Yu, a spirit of rivalry had appeared among the people, and the ways of simple sincerity had changed. Yet when Yu used force to punish and subdue, he was still following the people’s wishes. He killed thieves and robbers in order to stop killing. The Book of Documents says, “Punishment is carried out ultimately so that punishment will no longer be needed.” Yu therefore could not make all things entirely equal. Each person drew boundaries and belonged to a different group, and the world consequently fell into disorder.

After the deeds of rulers who governed the world had declined, the Confucians’ and Mohists’ disputes over right and wrong arose. Criticism began with them and gradually lost all order. The accumulated abuses grew so severe that even daughters were treated as daughters-in-law, with the proper relations between those above and below turned upside down. Nothing had ever been more serious than this. What more is there to say? Even small animals cannot keep to their own nature and the feelings of their life; how much less can the people?

Bixu’s commentary: Sages teach without speaking, and transformation unfolds of itself. They sit as still as a corpse, yet reveal changes like a dragon; their reputations shine while they keep themselves hidden; their presence resounds like thunder, yet their hearts remain quiet and silent. Their advances and retreats, rises and falls, all follow a constant measure, and their changing actions are like the movements of Heaven and Earth. The virtue of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors differed in degree, and their methods of governing were also different, but all were entangled with names and deeds.

When the Yellow Emperor governed the world, he forgot the distinction between close and distant relations. So when a relative died, people did not weep, and the people did not consider this wrong. When Yao governed the world, he caused feelings of affection to arise in people’s hearts. So when people reduced the mourning rites for a relative, they did not consider this wrong. When Shun governed the world, he caused a spirit of rivalry to arise in people’s hearts. Pregnant women gave birth early, and children could recognize others before they had grown up; life was thereby cut short too soon. When Yu governed the world… (The original text ends here unfinished.)

The mind becomes increasingly chaotic because people have private interests. Even when attacked, they feel no resentment because warfare is regarded as a reasonable course of action. When Yu passed the throne to Qi, the customs of the world changed as well. Thus, people’s division into different clans did not arise from any one person’s private interest. In the end, the people of the world simply live together in this world.

When the sages governed the world through wisdom, the people instead grew fearful and unsettled. Confucianism and Mohism arose, and the Great Dao was divided as a result. Women began marrying too young, and the bonds of social order fell into disrepair. We can see from this that establishing laws to govern the world can bring disorder when those laws are changed. The sun and moon were obscured in eclipses; mountains and rivers collapsed and ran dry; the seasons went awry; and the Qi of Yin-Yang fell out of harmony. The harm this caused was worse than the venom of bees and scorpions. It was the errors of governing a state through cleverness and cunning that made all things lose their own inherent nature.

Yanzhai, the commentator, says: This passage speaks in Confucius’s voice. It calls Lao Dan “Master” and says that Confucius’s disciple came to visit him. Lao Dan sat proudly in the hall, with an air of arrogance; when he answered Zigong’s questions, his voice was also faint. The Yellow Emperor governed the world by following nature. This section and the next describe how ritual institutions ranked people according to the degrees of closeness and importance within kinship. In ancient times, these rites did not exist; ritual conventions were only established later.

In ancient times, people were born after fourteen months and could not speak until they were over two years old. People today are born after ten months and speak at five months. Before they are old enough to be carried around, they are already asking, “Who is that person?” “The mind changes” means that people’s minds are unlike those of the ancients; “having a mind” means that everyone harbors private interests of their own. “Warfare is reasonable” means that people regard the use of force as justified. Thieves could be killed, so they were killed; laws and prohibitions consequently became more numerous. At that time, everyone believed they belonged to a distinct clan and drew close to their own parents and children, yet all simply lived together in the world. The bonds between people existed at first; later, the abuses grew until social relations were thrown into confusion, even to the point of treating one’s daughter as one’s wife. What more is there to say? The passage in the Book of Rites that begins “The world belongs to all” expresses a similar idea. Earlier, people generally honored the Three Sovereigns; here, even the Three Sovereigns are disparaged, on the grounds that their wisdom, too, could go against the principles of Heaven and Earth’s natural transformations.

Governance through cleverness and cunning brings harm like the venomous sting of bees and scorpions. The commentary also says that “small creatures sought after” refers to small animals that one seeks to catch. Even if one seeks little, one still cannot keep to one’s own inherent nature.

“To sit like a corpse and appear like a dragon” means sitting motionless like a corpse, yet appearing like a dragon; dwelling in darkness, yet seeing things clearly. “Sound like thunder, silent as the depths” means having the force of thunder while remaining deeply still and silent, as though able to hear what makes no sound. One’s actions and transformations move together like Heaven and Earth, like Yin and Yang. Zigong was praising and admiring Lao Dan’s De, and so wished to meet him. At the time, Lao Dan was sitting proudly in the hall, composed in stillness, yet ready to respond at any moment, answering in subtle and profound ways. Zigong said, “The Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors…” (The original text ends here.)

Governance takes many forms, yet all stake their reputation on governing the world and seek to bring the people’s hearts into accord. Once the people begin to contend, the world changes and declines, and people’s hearts grow more depleted by the day. Some fail to mourn when their parents die; others even kill their parents and then dress them in mourning clothes. Though these practices merely bend the rules of ritual in simplified ways, they do not yet bring great harm.

Some children, born after ten months in the womb, can speak by the time they are five months old because they have taken in the teachings of the outside world too quickly. The people then begin to act according to their nature while also following some contrived intention. Each person forms groups and factions of their own, and the world is thereby thrown into alarm. These practices may have begun with some order, but in the end they often become utterly disorderly. This happens because rulers are bent on bringing order and go too far: they ignore the actual circumstances of things and force everyone in the world to submit to them. This is the root of disorder. What more is there to say?

The wisdom of the Three Sovereigns, legendary rulers of antiquity, was still not far removed from people’s nature. Yet they went against the courses of the sun and moon and threw mountains and rivers into disorder; they even found the stings of scorpion-like creatures unbearably cruel. They also kept creatures from abiding in the nature and circumstances of their own lives. From this we can see the people’s plight. What, then, of later generations, who indulge their desires and rely on knowledge and cleverness? How could we speak of the principle that “a state is fortunate when it is governed without relying on cleverness”?

Confucius said to Lao Dan, or Laozi, “I have studied the Six Classics—the Book of Poetry, Book of Documents, Book of Rites, Book of Music, Book of Changes, and Spring and Autumn Annals—for a long time. I thought I understood their principles, so I traveled around expounding the Way of the former kings to seventy-two rulers, and explained the deeds of the Duke of Zhou and the Duke of Shao. Not one ruler was willing to accept my counsel. People are so hard to persuade! Is it the principles that are hard to explain?”

Laozi said, “You are fortunate not to have met a ruler of a peaceful age. The Six Classics record the deeds handed down by the former kings. Are those deeds really the basis of how the former kings acted? What you speak of now is only the traces they left behind. Traces are made by footsteps, but are traces the feet themselves?

“When white egrets gaze at one another without moving their eyes, they can respond to each other and mate. Among insects, the male calls from upwind and the female answers from downwind; they too can respond to each other and reproduce. Each naturally becomes male or female. This responsiveness and transformation arise from their nature and cannot be changed. Fate cannot be forcibly altered, circumstances cannot be held back, and the Dao cannot be obstructed. If you truly attain the Dao, nothing cannot be followed in accord; if you lose the Dao, nothing can go smoothly.”

Confucius stayed indoors for three months. Then he went to see Laozi again and said, “I understand now. Crows and magpies can raise their young; fish nourish their young with saliva; potter wasps can bring forth offspring. When an older brother has a younger brother, the older brother cries. I have long known of these transformations. But I have never transformed along with the myriad things, nor acted as a person in accord with them. How, then, could I teach others?”

Laozi said, “Good, Kong Qiu. You understand.”

Guo Xiang’s commentary: What are called the traces left by things are the traces that naturally appear as things follow their own true nature.

The Six Classics are simply traces left by the Way of nature, much like the affairs of people in the world today. White waterbirds gaze at one another, while insects answer one another with their calls. They need not mate to reproduce, so this is called “transformation through wind”—reproduction brought about through the resonance of Qi. Females and males of each kind have their own ways of responding to one another, and their differences are too numerous to count. As long as they belong to the same kind, reproduction through mutual influence is not difficult. Some creatures can therefore even respond to one another over great distances and reproduce through transformation by wind.

The Perfected Ones follow and understand these changes. Though change has no fixed pattern, it does not mean that anything is possible: without eyes, for example, one cannot respond through one’s gaze. The reproductive changes of crows, fish, bees, and other creatures are simply natural to them, each according to its own disposition. Human nature, however, often favors the younger child and neglects the older one, which is why an older brother may cry when a younger brother is born. Those who live alongside change and become one with humanity should let all things change naturally. Merely leafing through the Classics to explain these principles only leads one away from the root.

Lü’s commentary says: The Six Classics record the laws of the former kings, made clear in institutions and written texts, but they are not the root of the transformations of all things. The root of transformation lies in its marvelous workings. A footprint is a trace left after a foot has passed by; how could the footprint itself be the foot? No wonder it does not work to try to teach the world by relying on such traces. White waterbirds gaze at one another and reproduce through mutual response without moving their eyes: this is response through spiritual power, not through sound. Male insects call from upwind, and females answer from downwind: this is response through sound, not through outward form. Different creatures distinguish male and female and respond to one another in different ways because their dispositions differ and cannot be changed into one another. Their allotted destinies are fixed and cannot be altered at will; the course of circumstances unfolds and cannot be forcibly halted; the Great Dao runs its course and cannot be blocked.

How, then, could words and arguments, or the mind’s conjectures, suffice to understand how all things change? The key to teaching the world lies not in old written traces, but in seeking the Dao behind them. When Confucius fasted, he gathered his mind and spirit and straightened his body; in this state, he grasped this principle. He understood that magpies, fish, bees, and other creatures all reproduce in their own way, yet their ways of reproduction are never the same. This is knowledge that cannot be exhausted; it can only be left to change itself.

An older brother’s tears at the birth of a younger brother arise from emotion. Viewed simply as natural change, both brothers may be born; emotion, however, does not necessarily allow both to receive equal treatment. Teaching the human heart is no easy task. If Kong Qiu cannot follow change and become one of its participants, he can only remain at the level of discussing principles and cannot unite with the Creator—the power that governs the generation and transformation of all things. How, then, could he teach others? This is often where those in the world who study Confucius but fail to grasp the root go wrong.

The Yidu Commentary: To govern the world by relying on the deeds of former kings preserved in the Six Classics (the Confucian classics), without seeking their original meaning concerning the Dao, De, human nature, and destiny, is like recognizing footprints without knowing that feet made them. White egrets and insects can both come into being through changes in the wind and vital energy, producing offspring without mating. When male and female of the same kind respond to one another, they produce their own kind, and transformation follows readily. These are all natural principles of the Creator. Human nature and destiny cannot be changed; the times and the Dao cannot be obstructed. One should simply follow nature, rather than force the old deeds of former kings onto the present and thereby disturb people’s natural dispositions.

“Three months” refers to a change in the season and is used to illustrate how difficult it is to realize the Dao. Magpies, fish, and bees reproduce without sexual desire, so Confucius uses them to clarify the Dao spoken of by Laozi. The elder brother’s weeping when there is a younger brother refers to how people often favor the young and neglect the older; this has been the way for a long time, not something that began overnight. Those who become human by merging with transformation follow the life-and-death changes of the Creator without being inwardly burdened by them. For this reason, one must set aside the old traces of former kings in the Six Classics and allow people to change naturally.

The Bixu Commentary: Sages understand how things work and know how to respond to what the present moment requires. What survives today, however, is only written material. Can it really be used directly to deal with actual affairs? Practical application is like a foot passing over the ground; only afterward are footprints left behind. White egrets gaze at one another and answer each other’s calls—where is there any trace of human contrivance? The innate natures of the wise and the foolish cannot be changed; the allotments of the noble and the lowly cannot be changed; the circumstances of hardship and success cannot be stopped, and the Dao of the sage cannot be blocked. When one realizes the Dao, broken tiles seem like gold; when one is lost, jade discs seem like stones. Confucius then understood that magpies brooding over their eggs and fish blowing bubbles happen naturally, without the aid of external forces. Even brothers are ordered by age, and this gives rise to affection and resentment; how much more so for people of different eras? If all things transform independently, how could those who unite with transformation and become human be unable to bring about transformation in others?

The Yanzhai Commentary says: A foot must pass over the ground before it leaves footprints. To obtain the footprints without understanding the way the foot passed over the ground is like the metaphor of the dregs. The passage beginning “White egrets gaze at one another” is exceptionally strange. All things are born from wind and vital energy, which is why the process is called “wind transformation.” Each kind of creature has its own male and female, forming a distinct kind among all things; that is how they can be born through changes in wind and vital energy. Nature, destiny, the times, and the Dao all refer to natural principles that must not be opposed. “Ru” refers to mating; “mo” refers to fish moistening one another with bubbles and thereby reproducing through transformation. Brothers share the same mother, and the younger must be born only after the mother has weaned the older. Since the older brother has no milk to drink, he weeps. The original text breaks off at “those who become human through transformation.”

Those who know how to observe and understand other people but do not understand the Way of Heaven cannot join in the workings of creation. This chapter explains the Dao of following nature through the principles that govern the growth and transformation of all things. What Confucian scholars learn often involves deliberate action; if they can act through Wuwei (non-action), they can perform the same functions as creation. The chapter’s point is to help people understand that human life comes into being from nothing and shares the same source as all things, thereby dispelling the selfish, self-absorbed thoughts common in the world.

White egrets gaze at one another, and insects answer one another’s calls. In each case, a natural male-female relationship forms between creatures of the same kind, allowing them to mate and reproduce. This is what is called “transformation through influence”: when two kinds of vital essence meet, life responds and arises. Yin-Yang attract one another according to nature’s own principle. For this reason, the nature and course of life cannot be arbitrarily altered, nor can the seasons and the Way of Heaven be obstructed.

The four lines beginning, “When the magpies hatch their young, the younger ones are ready while the older ones cry out,” are difficult to understand at first. On closer examination, they describe a broad principle of transformation. They encompass the four ways life comes into being: birth from the womb, hatching from eggs, birth from moisture, and transformation into life—though people have not noticed this. The principles by which Heaven and Earth wax and wane, and the workings through which creation flourishes and declines, operate silently and invisibly, yet all are revealed through these four forms of life. Among living creatures, humans are foremost; among the countless people, the sage takes the leading role. The sage can communicate with creation and understands how Heaven and Earth nurture human life, and so understands the Way of Heaven.

That is why the chapter ends by discussing “transformation.” Unless one can encompass Heaven and Earth, contain all things, and move independently beyond the realm in which they are nurtured, how can one teach others to transform? The Daodejing says, “I practice Wuwei, and the people transform themselves.” Consider how white egrets and insects reproduce naturally, how magpies hatch and raise their young, how fish blow bubbles to nurture their offspring, and how bees rear their young. All this comes from their nature and is accomplished through focused constancy. One thing responds to another; there is no way to force an explanation of why. This is therefore called “transformation.”

Humans are the most spiritually endowed, and the transformations they can achieve are more subtle than these. Yet they still follow the principles of nature and the practice of focused constancy. The Doctrine of the Mean says, “Only those in the world who are utterly sincere can nurture and transform all things.” Even Confucius, with his sage-like wisdom, had to fast and quiet his mind for three months before he could grasp something of this. How, then, could anyone speak lightly of the mysteries of creation?

The chapter begins by asking why the sun and moon, wind and clouds move and circulate, setting the question within the workings of Heaven and Earth. The answer turns to the six directions and five constant principles, as well as the governance of the rulers of antiquity. The ancient rulers observed the Way of Heaven and put its teaching of De into practice; thus, through Wuwei, they allowed the people to transform themselves and willingly follow nature. The chapter then discusses how perfect benevolence favors no one, how the truly noble do not prize titles, and how one should follow circumstances without acting recklessly. These ideas, too, express the principle of modeling oneself on the workings of Heaven. As for “the music performed in the Dongting court,” it uses music to convey the profundity of the Great Dao…

The subtle details must be brought into harmony through the workings of Yin and Yang, with ritual and righteousness as their guiding principles. This is the basis on which Heaven, Earth, and humanity depend on one another and together establish the fundamental order. Bringing the four seasons into balance so that all things may flourish in peace and harmony is the source of the orderly succession of cold and heat, and of the growth and transformation of all things.

The Dao moves without any fixed pattern, dwelling in what is deep, mysterious, and remote. When the workings of Heaven are still and settled, and each of the five senses serves its proper function, a person can remain hidden in accord with things, yet naturally become manifest upon encountering them. The Dao cannot be confined by fixed forms, nor can it be exhausted in sound. Wherever the spirit of the heart wanders, it accords with perfect harmony; in the Dao’s silence, the highest joy is contained.

As for the art of governing, if one merely applies long-obsolete methods to present circumstances, those rules are like broken branches and splintered wood at odds with one another. Put an ape in the robes of the Duke of Zhou, and it will tear them apart; let an ugly woman imitate the beauty of Xishi, and she will only look more unsightly. This shows that good governance depends on what is fitting. When cooking fresh fish, the key is not to stir it too often. If those in high positions can truly understand the Great Dao, follow nature, move in step with the transformations of all things, and then inspire the people through appropriate policies and teachings—granting timely care and nourishment so that all things may mature—how could the people fail to be transformed?

When Confucius met Laozi, he praised him as wondrous as a dragon. This shows that Confucius sought to bring human cultivation into accord with the Way of Heaven, but had not yet reached the state of transforming along with all things. Later, when Confucius heard teachings on the mysterious Dao, deep as thunder rumbling in an abyss, he set aside the worn traces of the Six Classics—the six Confucian classics—and turned to investigate the root on which those traces depended. In less than three months, he was able to accord with transformation: in his conduct and dealings, his outward actions resembled those of ordinary people, while his inner essence accorded with the Way of Heaven.

The Book of Changes says, “Heaven moves with vigor.” This describes how the Way of Heaven operates. The saying, “Essence and Qi gather to form things; wandering souls disperse and bring about change,” speaks of how all things come into being and undergo transformation, does it not?