《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 59

The Collected Subtle Commentaries on the True Classic of Southern Florescence, Volume 61, Table 7

“Mountain Trees,” Chapter Two

Beigong She collected resources for Duke Ling of Wei to have a set of bells cast. He built an altar outside the city gate. Three months later, both the upper and lower sections of the bells had been cast. Prince Qingji saw them and asked, “What method did you use?”

Beigong She replied, “I simply held fast to ‘the One’—devoted to unity and true to my nature—and did not dare devise any other method. I have heard that after carving and polishing, one should return to simplicity. One should remain in a state of undifferentiated awareness, seemingly slack and hesitant; gather the spirit, yet remain bewildered and unattached. Send away what departs and welcome what arrives: do not block what comes or cling to what goes. Follow what is firm and go along with the bends and attachments, letting things unfold until they reach their own end. Thus, in collecting resources morning and evening, not even the slightest amount was lost. How much more so when acting in accord with the Great Dao?”

Guo Xiang’s commentary: Rest calmly in the One, and do not presume to add anything by devising a method. Simply return to one’s nature and let it remain pure and unadorned. Do not deliberately pursue anything or seek to please anything; let things come and go as they will. Go along with others without being entangled by external things. Act according to what circumstances make necessary, and so suffer no loss, with the mind calm and unattached. Let all things under Heaven follow their own nature: this is the all-encompassing Great Dao. That is why, after the preparations and planning, the work was completed in less than a day.

Lü Huiqing’s commentary: If one devises a method while holding to the One, one is no longer truly holding to the One. Returning to simplicity after carving and polishing means setting aside superficial display and devoting oneself to what is real. Undifferentiated awareness means not distinguishing between this and that; seeming slack and hesitant means not daring to rush toward success. Send things away and welcome them as they come, neither blocking nor clinging. Do not suppress what is firm or obstruct what bends and attaches; let things develop according to the circumstances that make their course necessary. Thus, in collecting resources morning and evening, not even the slightest amount was lost—because no method was devised apart from holding to the One. How much more so, then, with the principles of the world, which already have the Great Dao to follow? It is like Cook Ding guiding his blade between the ox’s sinews and bones, where there is still room to spare.

Yidu’s commentary: A bell is hollow and can resonate, so it serves as a metaphor for the human mind. Collecting resources to cast bells is a metaphor for gathering and nurturing the spirit in order to govern the mind. Building an altar and making offerings to the bells before using them is a metaphor for first bringing the substance of the mind to completion, then putting its function to use. The three months symbolize the Dao of Heaven reaching a minor completion; the completed upper and lower sections of the bells symbolize the completeness of substance and function. When Prince Qingji asks what method was used, the reply is that one holds to the One and puts it into practice, daring not to devise any other method. Returning to simplicity is a metaphor for returning to one’s nature. Undifferentiated awareness, slackness, and hesitation mean not deliberating and not forcing matters. Sending things away and welcoming them without blocking or clinging means letting each go where it belongs. Following what is firm means adapting to firmness and yielding…

Guide things by following their own twists and turns, without forcibly changing their hard or yielding nature. Let each thing develop according to its own circumstances, and it will not ultimately reach a dead end. Thus, when taxes are collected, even if what is taken amounts to no more than a hair’s breadth, the people are not harmed. None of this exceeds the natural limits of things, so there is neither injury nor deprivation, and needs are met of themselves.

Bixu’s Commentary: Attend to these matters with a single-minded purpose. How could one presume to make other arrangements? Once things have been shaped, they return to simplicity, and institutions become plain and rooted in antiquity. Even amid hesitation, uncertainty, or unrestrained ease, one does not draw back. One faces things diligently and sincerely, without relying on power to seize what one wants. Follow what things can bear, and let them develop according to their own circumstances. Allow them to reach their own conclusions; do not take them by force. Taxes can be collected without harming even a hair because the people willingly accept them, and so no harm is done. How much more so for one who embodies the Great Dao?

Yanzhai’s Explanation: Follow the natural principle, with a pure and undivided mind; this is what is meant by “single-minded.” Do not presume to make arrangements in your heart. To return to simplicity after shaping things is to remove their sharp edges and return to the natural state. With no fixed ideas in mind, one appears somewhat relaxed, somewhat hesitant; that is, one has no intention of acting deliberately. “Do not forbid or obstruct” means not deliberately welcoming or rejecting. Do not force hard and unyielding things to submit. Guide things that bend and attach themselves by following their circumstances, and let them be as they are. Let things reach their own conclusions and develop fully of themselves. Whether circumstances are favorable or adverse, in the end nothing needs to be forced; things will arrive of their own accord, and so not even a hair is harmed. Here, the “Great Dao” means a broad road one can walk without hesitation; when facing things, one holds no fixed ideas.

Metal and stone are instruments that serve the Way of Heaven. They are used to correspond with the pitch standards and harmonize Yin-Yang, and are implements a state should have at its disposal. If taxes had to be collected from the people to make them, one would expect the work to be difficult and take a long time. Yet the two-tiered frame for hanging the instruments was completed in just three months, with six bells suspended on each tier. This is what is called a set of chimes. People were astonished that the work had been completed so quickly and asked how it had been done. The answer was: “I only know to keep to what is pure and undivided; I dare not make other arrangements.” The work began with shaping and making, then returned to simplicity; it began with deliberate action and ultimately returned to Wuwei (non-action). Thus one reached a state of having no fixed ideas, appearing somewhat relaxed and somewhat hesitant.

The mind and spirit gather without clinging to anything, letting whatever comes and goes pass before them, like mosquitoes flying by. Do not forbid what arrives; guide it by following its twists and turns. Do not obstruct what departs; let it follow its hard and unyielding nature. Simply respond to things, allowing each to develop fully and reveal its true condition. That is all I can do. If even the bells on the two tiers can each find their proper place without being disturbed, how much more so for one who keeps the Great Dao within? This is probably a modest way of putting it. The passage means that when one responds to the myriad things through the Dao, one can meet whatever arises with composure. But if one clings to controlling things and obstructing the Dao, one will be entangled at every turn. As for collecting taxes to accomplish a task, this is something that later rulers cannot avoid. If they can keep the Dao within… [The original text ends here.]

…In this way, affairs can be brought to completion, and the people will not be harmed. This is what is meant by “having the Dao.” To have the Dao is simply to hold fast to the One—the state of original unity spoken of in Daoist thought—and return to simplicity.

Confucius was trapped between Chen and Cai. For seven days, he had no fire with which to cook. Taigong Ren came to console him and asked, “Are you close to death?” Confucius replied, “Yes.” “Do you hate the thought of dying?” “Yes.” Taigong Ren said, “I once spoke of a way to avoid misfortune. In the Eastern Sea there is a bird called the ‘Reluctant Bird.’ It flies slowly and awkwardly, as though it had no skill. It flies only when drawn along or given support, and perches only when compelled. It dares neither to lead nor to follow. When it eats, it does not dare take the first bite; it always waits until others have eaten their fill. Because it behaves this way, its companions do not reject it, and outsiders cannot harm it. Thus it escapes misfortune.

“Fine timber is always the first to be cut down, and sweet wells are always the first to be drained. This is the harm that comes from talent. Perhaps you have displayed your wisdom, stirring up the ignorant; and cultivated yourself in a way that exposes the impurity of others. You shine so brightly, as though walking with the sun and moon held aloft, that you cannot avoid encountering misfortune.

“I once heard a person who had attained the Great Dao say: Those who boast of their achievements have none; those whose accomplishments have become conspicuous will see them undone; those whose reputations have grown illustrious will see them damaged. Who can cast aside achievement and fame and return to the midst of ordinary people? Let the Dao move of itself without being displayed. Live and act at ease, without seeking a reputation. Be plain and ordinary, like a madman; leave no trace, display no power, and pursue no fame or merit. Then others will not blame you, and you will not blame others. The Perfected One—the person who has reached the highest state—does not seek to become known to the world. Why, then, do you care so much about your reputation?”

Confucius said, “That is well said!” He then took leave of his friends, dismissed his disciples, and fled to the great marshes. He wore coarse clothing and ate acorns and chestnuts. When he entered a herd of animals, he did not disturb them; when he entered a flock of birds, he did not disrupt their formation. If birds and beasts did not find him disagreeable, how much less would people?

Guo Xiang’s commentary: Misfortune and harm often arise from exercising cleverness and vying to outdo others. Timber is cut down and wells are drained because of their usefulness; these are the harms brought by talent. If a person stands out as different, they come into conflict with others. If they blend completely with everyone else, they do not appear exceptional. Thus, conspicuous wisdom is precisely the sign that leads one into obscurity.

Zhuangzi uses this story to convey his meaning: Confucius’s being trapped between Chen and Cai serves to express this principle. If one claims fame and merit as one’s own achievements, one can never preserve them. Accomplishments are achieved through the efforts of many, so one should give up the idea of claiming credit for oneself. The Great Dao operates naturally, without making a show of itself. Each person lives and acts at ease, not in order to gain a reputation. When one acts without self-interest, things outside oneself bring the results to completion of their own accord. In this way, power does not rest in one’s own hands, and both reputation and personal traces disappear. Let others do as they will, each bearing responsibility for their own actions. Quiet, unassuming, and free of concern: this is the state of the Perfected One. Taking leave of friends and dismissing disciples means giving up the pleasures of human relationships and moving without intention, like plants and trees. Then even the birds and beasts will not…

“Fear” uses the example of birds to explain that when one places sincere trust in things beyond oneself, one can dwell safely in a place where no harm will come.

Lü’s Commentary: As birds fly, their wings beat gracefully. They may seem disorderly, yet they do not lose their order; they may appear incapable, yet they are not truly incapable. They fly when drawn onward and perch when pressed, so there are times when they have no choice but to move or be still. They do not dare to rush ahead, nor dare to fall behind. They neither show themselves openly nor hide so deeply that they never appear. When feeding, they do not rush to taste the food first; they eat only what others have left, and settle in a position free of contention.

Birds fly in formation without rejecting their companions. Others are therefore unable to harm them. This is how to live among people. They know that once fame and achievement are attained, something is often lost, so they set them aside and leave them to everyone else. This is the way of the “greatly accomplished person”—one who has fulfilled the Dao. The Dao moves through the world without showing itself. When at home, people do not see his achievements; when he has accomplished something, he seeks no reputation. To attain the Dao is to have a nature that is pure and constant. Lü explains “like a madman” as resembling someone uninhibited, and “acting recklessly and wildly” as doing whatever one pleases. Such a person does not claim fame and achievement for himself, but leaves them to everyone else. This is what is meant by a person of the Dao offering the world the abundance he has within himself.

When Confucius faced hardship in the states of Chen and Cai, he was able to endure the situation in this way. It was not that he lacked this capacity; rather, circumstances constrained him, and he knew that some things could not be helped. Those who study Confucius, if they do not understand this principle of “not rejecting one’s companions and being able to live among birds and beasts,” will never reach the clarity of someone who carries out the Dao as brightly as the sun and moon. And there will be far fewer people burdened by fame and achievement.

Yidu’s Commentary: The “greatly accomplished person” refers to Laozi. He relinquished achievement and reputation, returning them to everyone else; thus he suffered no harm and incurred no loss. The Dao moves throughout the world, yet no trace of it can be seen. Virtue is enacted throughout the world, yet his name is never heard. He is not mixed with things outside himself, nor does he alter his nature; his state of mind seems empty and uninhibited. Thus he makes no demands of others, and they have nothing for which to blame him. This is the way of the perfected person, one who has reached the highest state. The perfected person does not wish his name to spread through the world. Why, then, do you delight in fame?

So Confucius took leave of his companions and departed from his disciples. He withdrew to a great marsh, wore coarse clothing, and ate rough food. He gave up worldly pleasures and sought the principles of the Dao beyond ordinary life. Even birds and beasts became tame as a result—how much more so would people?

Bixu’s Commentary: The bird is used here as an analogy because birds have no intention of soaring high and traveling far. They fly only when drawn onward, and when feeding they eat only what has been left behind. This shows that they understand well how to avoid harm. Confucius, by contrast, displayed his wisdom: he edited and revised the Book of Songs and the Book of Documents, and cultivated himself to establish the rites and music. He shone like the sun and moon and was revered by all, like a straight tree or a sweet well—the very first to be cut down or drawn from. The commentary says this much here, but the discussion continues.

Fame can never belong entirely to one person. Thus the divine person—the one whose state of being transcends the ordinary—does not claim credit; the credit belongs to the people. The sage does not claim fame for himself; it belongs to his ministers. The breath of the Dao flows through the world but never reveals itself. Wherever the Perfected One goes, the Dao is put into practice, yet the people cannot see his traces.

One who remains constant in simplicity may appear wild and unrestrained. A gentleman in the eyes of the Son of Heaven may look like a petty man to the people. Erase the sage’s traces, and there is no credit to speak of; relinquish power, and there is no fame to speak of. Confucius relied on polished cleverness to impress the foolish, and so suffered the calamity of Chen and Cai. He then took leave of his companions, dismissed his disciples, and fled into a great marsh. This was like Yidai, who, though startled, continued to roost among the birds: he neither drove them away nor was shunned by birds and beasts. How much less, then, would he be shunned by people?

Yanzhai says: “Yidai” is a kind of swallow. “Though startled, he continued to roost among the birds” means that it built its nest near people. “Neither drove them away” means that it did not choose a particular place, but lived beneath the eaves of every household, so outsiders could not harm it. One who follows the Dao quietly gathers himself in and does not reveal himself; hence the words, “The Dao flows but is not made manifest.” Wherever he goes, he can carry out his purpose, but he does not elevate himself through fame; hence the words, “Where he dwells, his way is enacted, but he is not renowned.” Being at ease in constant simplicity allows one to accord with all things. Though one may seem wild and unrestrained, inwardly one clings to nothing, seeks no merit or fame, and contends with no one. Thus there is no blame or resentment, and no trace of deliberate action is left behind; all things are transformed without anyone seeing how. The Perfected One wishes no one in the world to know of him. How, then, could fame delight him? The final few lines are close in meaning to the passage in the Liezi about regarding pork as one would human flesh.

The phrases “The Dao flows but is not made manifest” and “Where he dwells, his way is enacted, but he is not renowned” should be read with an even pause in each; their meaning then becomes clear. Guo Xiang, however, wrote his commentary under the character “manifest,” so most later explanations have followed his interpretation. Only the Lü and Yidu schools divide the phrases at “dwells” and “goes”; this reading is probably more fitting. Here, “De” and “fame” should correspond to “manifest,” which may better accord with the preceding passage: De flows everywhere, yet one does not wish to display one’s De, lest this invite attack and wear one down.

Remaining constant in simplicity and in accord with all things allows beings to make no demands of one another. Thus, when one enters a herd of animals, the herd is not disturbed; when one enters a flock of birds, the flock is not disturbed either. This is precisely the effect Confucius attained after keeping firmly in mind the “Way of Great Completion”: he cleansed his heart and concealed himself deeply. The author sets out this passage as counsel and warning for later generations.

Confucius asked Zisang Yu: “I have twice been driven out of Lu; in Song, people chopped down the tree under which I was sheltering; in Wei, my tracks were erased; between Shang and Zhou, I fell into hardship; and between Chen and Cai, I was surrounded. After these calamities befell me, my close friends became even more distant, and my disciples and companions scattered in greater numbers. Why is this?”

Zisang Yu said: “Have you never heard of the man made of straw who fled, or of Lin Hui, who abandoned a jade disk worth a thousand gold pieces and fled carrying a baby…?”

Some were in a hurry to get on their way. Someone asked Lin Hui, “Are you carrying the child as you run because of the cloth? There is very little cloth on the child, yet you take on a heavy burden to flee with them. You abandoned a jade disc worth a thousand gold pieces, but carry the child on your back. Why?”

Lin Hui replied, “The jade disc is bound to me by profit; the child is bound to me by nature. Those joined by profit abandon one another when hardship, disaster, or danger comes. Those connected by nature take one another in under such circumstances. There is a great difference between taking one another in and abandoning one another.

“Besides, a gentleman’s friendship is as plain as water, yet it can remain close for a long time. A petty person’s friendship is as sweet as wine, yet it can easily come to an end. Gentlemen form plain friendships, and so their ties grow close; petty people form friendships through sweet words and rich rewards, and so their ties are easily broken. Those who come together naturally, without any external cause, will not part because of one.”

Confucius said, “I respectfully accept your instruction.” Then he slowly strolled home. He no longer pursued learning and set his books aside. His disciples stopped coming to ask him for guidance, yet their respect and affection for him grew even deeper.

Another day, Sang Yu said, “As Shun neared death, he was truly calm and detached.” Yu replied, “Keep this in mind: the body is best when it follows its natural course, and one’s nature and feelings are best when allowed to follow their truth. Following nature, you will not lose your innate nature; letting your feelings follow their truth, you will not be burdened. If you neither lose your innate nature nor burden yourself, there is no need to seek outward refinements to adorn the body. And without seeking outward refinements to adorn the body, you will naturally have no need to depend on external things.”

Guo Xiang’s Commentary: The friendships of gentlemen are plain because no profit binds them together; they are close because they are united by the Dao. Petty people’s friendships are dressed up in profit, which makes them seem sweet; profit does not last, so their ties come to an end. To come together naturally, without an external cause, is to be joined as natural kin. Since such a bond does not depend on an external cause, no external cause is enough to divide them. If people come together for some reason, they must also part when that reason changes. Their “respect and affection grew even deeper” because they shed artifice and let things follow their natural course. When the body follows its nature and one’s feelings remain true, one does not force oneself through the pursuit of profit. A body that is not contrived can be preserved; a nature that is not disguised can remain at ease. Letting one’s innate simplicity follow its natural course makes contentment possible.

Lü’s Commentary: Confucius pursued learning but did not know of the bond of natural kinship; he devoted himself entirely to learning and books. Thus, all his dealings with the people of the world were merely artificial bonds. The body is best when it follows nature, for then one does not lose one’s innate nature. One’s nature and feelings are best when allowed to remain true, for then one is not burdened. If one neither loses one’s innate nature nor becomes burdened, one can simply let one’s inborn nature unfold on its own. A person’s proper share is then sufficient. Why seek outward refinements to adorn the body? Without seeking outward refinements, one has no need to depend on external things. This is the furthest point reached by “abandoning learning and setting books aside.”

Yidu’s Commentary: Those who associate through power part when that power has run its course; those who unite through profit separate when the profit is spent. Only fathers and sons, brothers and siblings, are natural kin…

Deep family affection often becomes most evident when people face severe calamity and hardship. Thus the Grand Historian says that when people suffer illness, they always call for their parents. The Book of Songs likewise says that when people encounter the grief of death and bereavement, brothers are especially mindful of one another.

Suppose someone has lost his country and fled. Lin Hui does not regard a jade disk worth a thousand gold pieces as precious, but instead cherishes the infant. This comes naturally from his inborn nature. At first, nothing external brought them together; now, nothing external can make them part. The noble person associates with others through the Dao, and the relationship is plain yet lasting. The petty person associates through profit, and the relationship is sweet yet easily broken. Those who associate through the Dao and are joined by their inborn nature ultimately become one. Those who associate through profit come together because they seek something, and part when the reason for their bond disappears.

After Confucius encountered hardship, his disciples became even more scattered. This shows that they had originally gathered for some particular reason, and would leave when that reason disappeared. As Shun was about to die, he instructed Yu in the true principles, saying: “The body is best guided by following nature; do not use your own will to force it. The emotions and nature are best left to follow their course; do not let external things go against their inborn character. When the body follows nature, it does not become separate from nature; when the emotions and nature follow their course, they are not wearied. Thus, without relying on outward adornment, one returns to one’s original condition; without depending on external things, the heart is naturally fulfilled.”

Bixu’s commentary says: “When people are joined by their inborn nature, their relationship is plain yet intimate; when they are brought together by profit, it is sweet yet may be broken. They come together without seeking anything, and so can remain close. They come together seeking something, and so part when the reason for their bond is exhausted. After Confucius abandoned learning and books in his later years, his disciples increased in number. They had come for the sake of profit, but stayed and became joined by their inborn nature. As he was dying, Shun used the true principles to guide Yu: the body belongs to the external side and should follow the natural changes of things; the emotions and nature belong to the inner side and should follow their inborn course of their own accord. Following external things enables one to accord with them; following one’s inborn nature brings ease. When one can both accord with things and live at ease, why rely on adornment to embellish oneself? And if so, there is no need to depend on external things to enrich oneself.”

Yanzhai adds: “‘Leng’ is read as ‘ling’ and means to guide. ‘Yuan’ means to follow nature, and ‘shuai’ means to proceed according to nature. In this way, one will not become separate from the Dao, but will unite with it. Here, ‘form’ refers to oneself, while ‘adornment’ refers to things outside oneself. If one does not treat external things as adornment for the self, there is no need to depend on them.”

People joined by their inborn nature are drawn to one another and come together naturally, without any external reason. Those who grow close through shared profit, by contrast, are brought together by human arrangements and by seeking something. Comparing Confucius’s disciples with Lin Hui carrying the infant makes clear the difference between having a reason for a bond and having none. “Plain yet intimate” and “sweet yet easily broken” can also sum up the general changes in human relationships: why people accept one another and why they cast one another aside. The distinction lies here. After Confucius understood this, he returned to his original condition and abandoned learning…

When people reach the state of Wuwei (non-action), they set aside their books and seek the source of things. Disciples also stop exchanging bows, the ancient gestures of respect, and forget one another’s formalities. In this way, their affection for one another grows deeper.

They cast off artifice and follow their natural dispositions; such bonds arise from nature. Why should only fathers and sons be considered close kin? By following the ties of body and kinship without separation, the self can endure. By acting on genuine feeling without forcing it, one’s nature can rest at ease. In this way, the so-called “true self” is found. Why rely on ritual and ornament, or on external things?

— Collected Subtle Commentaries on the Meaning of the True Classic of the Southern Florescence, juan 61