《南華真經義海纂微》Vol. 92

Confucius was stranded between the states of Chen and Cai. For seven days, no fire was lit for cooking, and he could eat only a soup of pigweed with no rice in it. His face was gaunt, yet he continued to play the zither and sing inside the house.

Yan Hui was sorting vegetables. Zilu and Zigong said to him, “Our Master was driven out of Lu, pursued in Wei, trapped beneath a felled tree in Song, and beset in the former lands of Shang and Zhou. Now he is surrounded between Chen and Cai. Someone could kill our Master and go unpunished; someone could treat him like a weed and face no restraint. Yet he plays and sings, and the sound of his zither never ceases. Can a gentleman really be so shameless?”

Yan Hui had no answer. He went inside and told Confucius what they had said. Confucius set down his zither and sighed. “You and Ci, Zilu and Zigong, have such shallow understanding. Call them in; I will speak with them.”

When Zilu and Zigong entered, Zilu said, “To be in such a state—surely this is what it means to be in distress.” Confucius replied, “What are you saying? A gentleman who is attuned to the Dao is said to be flourishing; one who cannot be attuned to the Dao is said to be in distress. I hold the Way of benevolence and righteousness, yet I have encountered the calamities of a disorderly age. How can that be called distress? Only this is enough: when I examine myself inwardly, I have not turned away from the Dao; when I face danger, I have not lost my De. It is only after the cold sets in and frost and snow fall that I know the pines and cypresses remain green. So the hardship in Chen and Cai is, for me, a fortunate thing.”

Confucius grew solemn, took up his zither again, and sang. Zilu, elated, picked up a shield and danced. Zigong said, “I never understood before that Heaven was so high or Earth so low. Those of old who attained the Dao were joyful in hardship and joyful in prosperity. What they delighted in was neither hardship nor prosperity itself. As long as the Dao and De resided in their hearts, hardship and prosperity were like cold and heat, wind and rain: merely the natural succession of the seasons. Thus Xu You delighted in living in seclusion at Yingyang, while Gongbo was content to be buried on Shou Hill.”

Guo Xiang’s commentary passes over this passage without comment.

Lü Huiqing says: From Yan He and Yu Kou to Confucius, all refused to accept titles and stipends lightly from others. Even when they lived in poverty, hunger, and cold, they did not lose their inner joy. Although Prince Mou had not yet reached the state of one who has attained the Dao, he already aspired to it. People of the world are deeply immersed in an artificial way of life. When they hear of the example set by Xu You and Shanjuan, they find it absurd and do not believe it. That is why the text gives one example of a sage after another, showing that they all took joy in the Dao and even forgot life and death. If some can forget life and death, then it is easier to understand how they could keep the gains and losses of the realm from harming their lives.

Yiduzhi says: Confucius’s Dao fills Heaven and Earth. How could it be constrained by hardship or prosperity?

Confucius was trapped between the states of Chen and Cai. No one above or below came to his aid, and for seven days he had nothing to eat. Yet Confucius was not distressed. He continued to play the zither and sing without pause. At the time, only Yan Hui truly understood him. Zilu and Zigong, however, could not escape the criticism that they were “unable to accept hardship calmly.” Confucius therefore summoned them and said, “Whether circumstances are difficult or favorable depends on the Dao, not on external things. Since I now hold to the Dao of benevolence and righteousness, what hardship can truly befall me? It is precisely when faced with danger and yet not losing one’s virtue that virtue reveals itself. Without encountering danger, there would be no way to see this—just as we know the pines and cypresses do not wither only after the weather turns cold. Confucius therefore considered this something to be grateful for.”

Confucius then tuned his zither and continued to play and sing. Hearing him, Zilu and Zigong suddenly understood; they picked up their shields and danced. They also understood that though Heaven is high and Earth is low, Confucius’s Dao is difficult to describe in concrete images. From this we can see that those of old who had attained the Dao could remain content and joyful whether their circumstances were difficult or favorable. But what they delighted in was neither hardship nor good fortune in itself.

Bixu’s Commentary: It is certainly fair to say that Confucius’s circumstances were difficult. But if we look only at what happened outwardly and attribute hardship and good fortune to the turn of events, we have not yet understood the root of the Dao. Pines and cypresses grow more vigorously in frost and snow; likewise, sages do not change their integrity when misfortune befalls them. The examples of Duke Huan of Qi, Duke Wen of Jin, and the King of Yue are used to explain the hardship at Chen and Cai: concrete events are made to reveal the principle. Heaven’s height and Earth’s lowliness serve as metaphors for Zhongni’s Dao. The Great Dao and virtue are as firm as metal and stone; they do not change when circumstances shift. Hardship and good fortune, by contrast, are like melodies played on the zither and lute: when one tune ends, another must begin. A person’s changing circumstances are thus as ordinary as wind and rain, cold and heat—the constant patterns of Heaven. Xu You declined Yao’s offer to abdicate in his favor and lived simply at Yingyang; Gongbo gave up his position as ruler and, in doing so, fulfilled his aspirations at Qiushou. Zhongni did not fear the hardship at Chen and Cai, standing firm between the two states like a tree trunk.

Yanzhai’s Explanation: “Not a grain” means having no rice to eat. “Ling shuo” means to oppress and bully. The pines and cypresses standing firm in cold weather conveys the same meaning as “Only after the year turns cold do we know that the pines and cypresses are the last to wither.” It was precisely because of the hardship at Chen and Cai that Confucius’s resolve to uphold the Way amid adversity was brought to light. It could serve as a standard for later generations, which is why the text says “fortunate.” “Xiao” is read as “xiao” and describes an unrestrained, free-spirited manner; “ge” describes leaping with joy. The few words spoken by Zigong express how they felt after understanding. “Shang and Zhou” refers to the site of the Zhou capital: it had once been the old territory of the Shang dynasty and was also where the former people of Shang lived.

What Zilu and Zigong discussed were the outward traces of Confucius’s life; Yan Hui understood his inner mind, and so had no need to say much. If we view hardship and good fortune from the perspective of the Dao, worldly gain and loss cannot add to or diminish the Dao. If we cannot stand firm in the Dao, then even if we never encounter hardship, we cannot say that we have truly lost nothing.

How could a person of De (Virtue) be shaken by hardship? Only in the cold at the year's end can one see that pines and cypresses do not wither, and only in the face of danger does the true character of the sage show. This is precisely the good fortune of the sage amid adversity. When Confucius turned back to play the zither and sing, he was calmly accepting his fate, and his joy was not diminished in the least. When Zilu (a disciple of Confucius) took up his shield and danced with vigor, he had grasped the principle and was so glad at heart that his hands and feet moved of their own accord. The few words spoken by Zigong (a disciple of Confucius) were praise for the vastness of the Master's Dao (the Way), which can never be exhausted. The meaning of Dao and De is confirmed here and may be compared with the preceding passage. Xu You (a legendary hermit who refused the rule of the world) and Gong Bo (a feudal lord of the Zhou period, said to have lived in seclusion and found contentment) were also able to delight in themselves because they had attained this Dao. Qiushou is the name of a mountain.

BiXu (Chen Jingyuan, a Song-dynasty commentator) collated the text against the old Jiangnan canonical edition and noted that after "the flourishing of the pines and cypresses" there are three further sentences: Duke Huan attained this Dao in Ju, Duke Wen attained it in Cao, and the King of Yue attained it at Kuaiji, which is why the commentary reads as it does. In addition, the character "zhi" (志) follows "Gong Bo attained." As for the character "Shang" in the phrase "reduced to extremity between Shang and Zhou," it makes no sense, and the commentators all pass over it in silence; only Luzhai (a commentator) mentions it.

Shun wished to yield the world to his friend Beiren Wuze (a hermit). Beiren Wuze said, "How strange Shun is! He lived amid the fields, yet went to serve at Yao's gate. That was not enough for him, and now he wants to stain me with his shameful conduct. I am ashamed to see him." He then threw himself into the Qingling Abyss (the name of a deep pool) and died.

Tang of Shang (founder of the Shang dynasty) was about to attack Jie of Xia and consulted Bian Sui (a worthy man). Bian Sui said, "This is not my affair." Tang asked, "Then who can do it?" He replied, "I do not know." Tang then consulted Wu Guang (a worthy man), who likewise said, "This is not my affair." Tang asked, "Who can do it?" He replied, "I do not know." Tang asked, "What of Yi Yin (later the renowned Shang minister)?" He replied, "He has strength and can endure humiliation. Beyond that, I know nothing." Tang then planned with Yi Yin, destroyed Jie of Xia, and afterward offered the world to Bian Sui.

Bian Sui declined, saying, "When you attacked Jie, you came to plan with me, so you must have taken me for a rebellious subject. Now that you have defeated Jie, you offer me the throne, so you must have taken me for a greedy man. I was born in a chaotic age, and a man without the Way has twice come to stain me with his shameful conduct. I cannot bear to hear any more of it." He then threw himself into the Chou River (the name of a river) and died.

Tang then offered the world to Wu Guang, saying, "The wise plan, the brave carry out, and the benevolent take the seat. This has been the principle since ancient times. Why will you not take the throne?" Wu Guang declined, saying, "To depose one's lord is not righteous. To slaughter the people is not benevolent. For others to brave the danger while I enjoy the fruit of it is not honorable. I have heard that a righteous man does not accept a salary that is unrighteous, and does not set foot on land in a world without the Way. How much less could I accept your homage?"

“I could not bear to watch this situation any longer. So I shouldered a stone, threw myself into the Lu River, and ended my life.”

Guo Xiang’s Commentary: A person of noble ambition would rather sacrifice life to uphold benevolence than preserve life at the cost of benevolence. Those of lofty purpose and a bearing that transcends worldly concerns are, from the outset, a different kind of person from those who greedily pursue gain and would risk death for it.

An old interpretation holds that people like Bian Sui and Wu Guang regarded the realm as something beyond the four quarters of the world, beyond anyone else’s understanding. This is mistaken. Someone who thinks little of the realm does not regard anything as especially important. And if nothing is especially important to them, there can be no situation worth dying for. If they regard the realm as something beyond the Six Directions, then of course they should leave it to Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang to govern. If they are detached and unburdened, go along with others, and care nothing for gain or loss, why throw themselves into the water? People like Bian Sui and Wu Guang may be said to have died for their reputations and admired purity, but they cannot yet be called truly free of attachment to the realm.

Lü Huiqing’s Commentary: See the commentary later in the text.

Yidu’s Commentary: Shun and Tang followed the same path. Shun gained the realm by going along with circumstances, while Tang seized it by attacking Jie. To go along with circumstances is to follow Heaven’s will and thereby reach the human realm; to take it by force is to overturn the ordinary way and enter into Virtue. Shun’s offer to yield the realm to his friend Beiren Wuze shows that he deeply understood the way of following Heaven’s mandate. He also said that after Tang attacked Jie and gained the realm, he offered it to Bian Sui and Wu Guang to show that he had no desire for it: he had attacked Jie for the people, not for himself. The Documents records that Yi Yin assisted Tang in attacking Jie, but there is no reliable record that Tang offered the realm to Bian Sui and Wu Guang. Zhuangzi invented these people and events to express the central theme of the “Yielding the Throne” chapter.

Bixu’s Commentary: Those who keep themselves pure regard glory and wealth as shameful. People like Beiren Wuze could be counted among the likes of Zhongwu above and Yan Guang, courtesy name Ziling, below. They would never let external things frustrate their aspirations. As for Bian Sui and Wu Guang, they simply refused to serve as ministers in a chaotic age and withdrew from it. Why would they have thrown themselves into the water at once? The story of their drowning themselves was probably made up by later writers moved by the tale.

Luzhai’s Discussion: No other text records that Shun offered the realm to his friend, so this too must be a parable. The claims that Bian Sui and Wu Guang used force, acted with purpose, and endured humiliation and disgrace are meant to explain their characters. The story of ancient recluses throwing themselves into the water cannot be verified either.

Shun was friends with Beiren Wuze. He must have believed Wuze capable of bearing great responsibility, or he would not have offered him the realm. If Wuze refused, that could have been the end of it; or he could have fled and gone away. Why throw himself into the cold, clear water? Perhaps the passage means that Shun once lived in seclusion among the fields, then later went to visit Yao’s court. If this is called an act of accepting humiliation, Shun’s aspirations become clear. As for why Shun… (The original text ends here.)

Some people do not understand that the less one expects for oneself, the more one can accomplish great things. When Tang of Shang was preparing to punish Jie of Xia, he sought the help of Bian Sui and Wuguang, two men devoted to Wuwei (non-action). It was like setting out for Yue while pointing the chariot’s shafts north.

Later, with Yi Yin’s assistance, Tang of Shang completed his campaign against Jie of Xia. After returning in triumph, he offered the realm to Bian Sui. Bian Sui not only refused, but was ashamed to have been defiled by the offer; he threw himself into the Zoushui River and drowned. Tang then offered the realm to Wuguang. Wuguang accused Tang of acting against the principles of benevolence, righteousness, and integrity. In the end, he refused Tang’s stipend, would not set foot on his land, and sank into the water with a stone tied to his back.

All three men were noble in their principles and upright in their conduct. They held fast to their convictions and would not yield. Since everyone must die in the end, what did they have to fear? The Nanhua True Classic—that is, the Zhuangzi—tells this story to encourage a society whose moral standards have declined.

Looking closely at the main point of this chapter, other books do not record the story of Shun yielding the realm. Yet the fact that he gave it away shows that his abdication was entirely proper, beyond dispute. As for Tang’s offer of the realm, it was probably not made from the heart; otherwise, he could not have escaped the judgment of the people. The stories of Bian Sui and Wuguang drowning themselves, and of the Zoushui and Lushui Rivers, seem to show that they took withdrawal from the world to its furthest extreme. These stories may be recorded as they are, without further comment.

When the Zhou dynasty was rising, two men from the ancient feudal state of Gushu, Boyi and Shuqi, said to each other, “We have heard that in the west there is someone who seems to have attained the Dao. Let us go and see him.” They traveled to Qiyang. When King Wu of Zhou heard of their arrival, he sent his uncle Shu Dan—that is, the Duke of Zhou—to meet them. He made an oath with them, promising to raise their stipends by two grades and their rank by one. To seal the oath, an animal was slaughtered and its blood smeared on their lips; afterward, the animal was buried.

Boyi and Shuqi looked at each other and laughed. “Ah, how strange! This is not what we mean by the Dao. In ancient times, when the Divine Farmer ruled the realm, sacrifices were made with great reverence, but no blessings were sought. He served the people faithfully and responsibly, bringing order to the realm without demanding anything from them. If he enjoyed taking part in government, he devoted himself to governing; if he enjoyed ruling the realm, he did all he could to govern it. He did not build himself up by exploiting others’ failures, nor raise himself by lowering others. And he did not seize private gain when circumstances favored him.

“Now the Zhou see that the Shang are in disorder and are eager to take their place as rulers. Those above them devise plans, and those below carry them out. They distribute wealth, gather troops to defend themselves, display their might, and slaughter animals to seal oaths and win people’s trust. They publicize their actions to please the masses and seek profit through killing. This is replacing one tyranny with another. I have heard that in ancient times, when scholars lived in an age of peace, they did not shirk their responsibilities; when they lived in an age of disorder, they did not cling to life at any cost. Now the realm is dark and Zhou’s virtue is in decline. If we stay among the Zhou, we will defile ourselves. Better to withdraw and preserve our integrity.”

So Boyi and Shuqi traveled north to Shou…

People like Boyi and Shuqi eventually starved to death on Mount Shouyang, where tradition says they lived in seclusion and gathered fern shoots. If they had thought that wealth and rank were acceptable so long as they could be obtained, they would not have needed to rely on noble integrity and extraordinary conduct, hold fast to their own aims alone, and withdraw from public affairs. It was precisely through such integrity that Boyi and Shuqi established themselves.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says, “Boyi and Shuqi starved on Mount Shouyang,” without saying that they died. The word “died” is used here to show that they held fast to the Dao until the end of their lives.

Lü Huiqing’s commentary says: People like Wuze, Suiguang, Boyi, and Shuqi were unwilling not only to accept another person’s realm, title, or stipend; they even considered it a stain to hear that person’s words or live in that person’s era. They would rather endure hardship and hunger until death. Such conduct—finding joy in holding fast to the Dao, even to the point of forgetting one’s life—is even harder for worldly, indolent people to believe. Yet these people were all sages, and they understood the principles of life and death. Some deaths are weightier than Mount Tai; others are lighter than a feather. The abdications of Shun and Yu later gave rise to the affairs of Zi Kuai and Zi Zhi; the events associated with the Shang and King Wu of Zhou later developed into the cases of Kui and Zhe. Could the example set by Wuze, Suiguang, Boyi, and Shuqi have been of no benefit to the world and later generations? Thus, they were not enamored of death.

Han Fei, however, says that Tang of Shang feared people would think he coveted the throne, so he offered it to Wuguang. He then feared Wuguang might accept it, and sent someone to persuade him. Tang wanted to shift the blame onto Wuguang, who consequently threw himself into the river and died. Sima Qian, too, doubted that a person named Suiguang had really existed. Han Fei understood the matter of sacrificing one’s life, and this is why he judged Tang and Wuguang as he did. Xu You, Zhifu, and Zhibo refused to trade their lives for the realm in order to teach later generations to value life and disdain profit. Wuze, Suiguang, Boyi, and Shuqi, by contrast, gave up their lives to strengthen the moral resolve of the world, teaching later generations to think lightly of life and prize the Dao. The benevolence and righteousness they put into practice were, in truth, the same.

When Zhuangzi discusses the Great Dao and argues for casting aside fame and profit, Boyi, Shuqi, and Suiguang all fall within the scope of his criticism. When he discusses yielding the throne, to warn those who endanger themselves for external things, they are all praised. Readers who understand this can look beyond the literal wording and grasp its meaning.

Yidu’s commentary says: Confucius and Mencius called Boyi and Shuqi sages, and later generations have accepted this view. The accounts recorded in the Zhuangzi come from the words of historians; their purpose was probably to correct the common failing of chasing after external things, so the language sometimes goes too far. The central aim of this chapter is to advocate noble self-restraint and distance from worldly affairs, making the greedy more upright and enabling the timid to stand firm. Yet it is not without drawbacks: the conduct of Boyi and Shuqi may allow tyrannical rulers to act as they please.

No one dared to resist them. Perhaps the time was not right, so force was used to restrain people’s actions and correct the customs of the age.

There are also factors in the world that make things turn out as they do. If one can follow the times and act in accordance with what is fitting, allowing the myriad things to follow their own patterns, there will be no trace left and no harm done.

Bixu’s Commentary: In an age of simplicity, people made offerings to the spirits without praying for blessings, and served their ruler without coveting a stipend. They took part in government simply to govern, and took part in administration simply to administer well. This was to follow human nature. Rivers and seas can rule over the hundreds of streams because they are good at staying low. Today, however, some people elevate themselves and pursue their own gain—something the sages do not approve of.

Bo Yi and Shu Qi inherited King Wen’s enterprise, yet gave up their positions as rulers of the state of Guzhu and went in search of a place where the Dao prevailed. Could they really have been seeking titles and stipends? They gathered fern shoots on the western mountain and nurtured their aspirations in secluded woods. Perhaps this was because their nature was exceptionally pure.

Yanzhai’s Explanation: “Praying for joy” is like praying for blessings; “seeking nothing” means seeking neither fame nor profit. “Taking part in government to govern” means handling affairs of state without pursuing private gain. “Urgent” carries the sense of haste. “Trading in goods” means buying people’s loyalty with wealth—in other words, recruiting worthy men throughout the land with benefits and stipends. “Relying on arms and taking perilous measures, preserving one’s power and displaying one’s might, proclaiming one’s deeds to make one’s name known” means depending on military force, resorting to dangerous schemes, maintaining one’s authority, showing off one’s strength, and publicizing one’s actions to win fame.

When Bo Yi and Shu Qi said, “We are in the same world as Zhou,” they meant that to act this way would place them in a state of disgrace. “Not relying on it, not treating it as a resource” means that the two men were not deliberately proclaiming their purity or refining their conduct to appear different from others. If wealth and status had been acceptable according to the Dao, they would have accepted them. They acted as they did because they judged them contrary to what was right.

The world was in darkness, and Shang rule was in disorder. “The De of Zhou was in decline” means that Zhou was on the verge of rising, yet its actions were already like this. Bo Yi and Shu Qi disliked the Zhou people’s use of schemes to seize the realm.

Bo Yi and Shu Qi gave up their positions as rulers and went to look toward the southern slopes of Mount Qi. They admired Zhou’s transformation through De and hoped to become subjects of a sage, sharing with everyone in the teaching of Wuwei (non-action). King Wu of Zhou sent Shu Dan to make an alliance with them, then tried to tempt them with titles and stipends. How could that have been what the two men wanted? The text therefore cites the age of Shennong as an example, to show that the present was not a fitting time.

Performing seasonal sacrifices was not a way to pray for blessings. The sacrifices to the soil deity, the La sacrifice, the suburban sacrifices, and the Di sacrifice were all ways of reverently honoring the spirits and repaying their blessings; they sought nothing else. This also shows that governing a state should be done through Wuwei. “Taking part in government to govern” means participating in public affairs without pursuing private gain; “taking part in administration to administer” means helping govern without disrupting public affairs. One should not harm others to benefit oneself, belittle others to elevate oneself, or exploit favorable circumstances for private gain. When one regards others as oneself, all things can be treated fairly.

Seeing the disorder of Shang, the Zhou people were now in a hurry to impose their own policies. They took advantage of their rival’s distress to plot its overthrow, bought people’s loyalty with wealth, shored up their authority, sought popular approval, and pursued profit. This was no different from replacing an old tyranny with a new one. The age was dark and De was in decline; Zhou belonged to that same age. Fearing that they would be tainted by it, Bo Yi and Shu Qi thought it better to withdraw and travel far north.

When they reached Mount Shouyang, Boyi and Shuqi would rather starve to death. Starvation is a calamity that befalls the body; compromising one’s integrity and betraying one’s own heart is a calamity that befalls the spirit. If the calamity of the spirit is allowed to run its course, it can lead to breaking the law and making offerings to unjust people, leaving behind boundless harm. The calamity that befalls the body ultimately affects only oneself. But holding fast to one’s integrity can stop moral standards from declining and revive moral teaching. That is why people still praise them today, and why Confucius commended them for their benevolence. Both Boyi and Shuqi sought benevolence and attained it, with no resentment or regret in their hearts.

The world is now in darkness, and the Zhou dynasty’s virtue has declined. The ancient Jiangnan edition cited in Chen Bixu’s Zhaozhao reads, “The virtue of the Yin declined.” The virtue of the Yin dynasty declined, and so the Zhou dynasty overthrew it.

Guo Xiang says: “The main purpose of this chapter is to promote noble self-restraint and distance from worldly ways. Those influenced by this outlook—even the greedy and reckless—may, while following the heavenly road into the Purple Court—that is, holding high office and drawing near to the court—still come to sigh with regret midway. How much more so ordinary people? Thus, people like Boyi and Shuqi are worthy of being ranked alongside Ji and Xie, and may also be compared with Yi Yin and Lü Shang. Those who live in seclusion in the valleys yet keep the world in their hearts may not all become ministers who assist sage rulers, but are they not still nobler than those stained by worldly dust? Their way may be difficult to put into practice, but it brings fewer harmful consequences, and is therefore worth cherishing.”

Someone asked, “What are the harmful consequences of the ways of people like Boyi, Shuqi, and Xu You?” The reply was: “The harm in Xu You’s way is that it can lead people to pretend to yield in order to advance themselves, until at last there are cases like Zizhi and King Kuai of Yan. The harm in Boyi’s way is that it allows tyrannical rulers to commit violence unchecked, with no one daring to resist. The harm in the ways of Yi Yin and Lü Shang is that it emboldens greedy and overbearing people throughout the world to usurp power and rebel. Only the sage leaves no fixed trace, and so brings no harmful consequences.”

If the ways of Yi Yin and Lü Shang are taken to be traces of the sage, then the ways of Boyi and Shuqi are traces of the sage as well. If the ways of Boyi and Shuqi are not considered traces of the sage, then neither are the ways of Yi Yin and Lü Shang. The sage follows the way things develop of their own accord and leaves no fixed trace. The sage is such that, because I leave no fixed trace to begin with, the myriad things can each reveal their own traces. Once those traces appear, people force a name upon them and call them “sage”; the name “sage” thus refers precisely to what leaves no trace to follow.

Lu Deming says: “Someone asked: ‘This chapter, Yielding the Throne, repeatedly emphasizes preserving life. Why, then, did Biansui, Wuguang, and others throw themselves into the water and die?’ The answer is: ‘The Zhuangzi advocates a return to the root, and returning to the root first requires letting go of wealth and honor. The chapter therefore praises the noble bearing of those who yielded the throne and upholds their proud resolve to rise above the world. Its purpose is to keep people from submitting to worldly ways and thereby to refine social customs, and to discourage them from coveting comforts that pamper the body and clinging to life in a merely expedient way. Though the chapter sometimes speaks of cherishing life, in the end it still leads back to relinquishing wealth and honor, thereby thoroughly clearing away the ills brought by worldly affairs. As for the lesser approach…’”

Even someone dressed in coarse cloth and living on porridge can preserve the Great Dao, rise above worldly concerns through noble aspirations, and remain peacefully content. He places himself in a realm of stillness and quiet, never allowing worldly entanglements to overcome him.

Liu Gai says: If a person will stop only when forced to, he will reject everything; if he refuses to stop when it is time to stop, he will want everything. Rejecting everything comes close to being rigidly principled; wanting everything comes close to being unrestrained. The sage follows the middle way and does not let either tendency govern him. When people cannot manage the middle way, they should weigh and correct their conduct according to the circumstances.

“Unrestrained” and “rigidly principled” are both, at root, departures from the middle way. In later times, what was called unrestrained conduct meant more than energetic ambition: sometimes it became a frantic pursuit of life and profit, or indulgence in desire. What was called rigid principle meant more than refusing to do certain things: sometimes it went so far as to wash one’s ears and throw oneself into a river, or to despise the fame of Yao and Shun. These are the ills that arise when unrestrainedness and rigid principle become extreme.

The Zhuangzi asks: Is modesty meant to win a reputation, or is it a matter of finding the proper measure between giving and receiving? A king stands at the summit of the world, yet can yield the throne; what else, then, is worth craving? The sage governs the world only when he has no choice, as the story of Prince Sou may illustrate. Prince Sou was a prince of Wu who once fled because he did not wish to rule. If the sage has nothing external in his heart, why would he trouble himself to make the world his concern? If he has no private self-interest, and the people of the world turn to him, how could he refuse them? Seen in this light, the abdications of Yao and Shun, the conquests of Tang and Wu, Yi Yin’s service to Tang, Boyi’s avoidance of the tyrant Zhou, someone’s entering the palace of Emperor Yao, and someone else’s living all his life in the fields are, in essence, no different from one another.

In his general discussion of this chapter, Master Chu says that “Yielding the Throne” records many people who gave up the throne or held fast to noble integrity, from Yao, Shun, Xu You, and Shanjuan to Prince Sou. They all valued the Dao and cherished life, refusing to let wealth and rank sway their hearts. They regarded the whole world like a worn-out shoe, unworthy of attachment. Zihua, Yan He, Zengzi, Yan Hui, and Gongzi Mou, among others, guarded their true nature and were content with simplicity. They would not alter their integrity for profit or office, and regarded wealth and rank as floating clouds. Compared with the sages, Wei Mou may seem less complete; yet as a prince of the royal house, he gave up the dignity of the throne and chose seclusion in the mountains and forests—a choice that was certainly not easy.

Thus, the example and influence of these people inspired those in high positions to value the Dao and cherish life, and helped the teachings of stillness and Wuwei (non-action) to endure. The work of the Mysterious Sage and Uncrowned King—that is, one who possessed the virtue of a sage but did not occupy the throne—was thereby made manifest. If people in the world forget themselves…

Those who are consumed by external things have narrow horizons. Even the slightest stake in gain or loss is enough to make them fight. For someone seated on the throne to yield the position can be called one of the rarest and most splendid events in the world.

As for those who embody Dao and De and are entrusted with others’ confidence, some do not wish to possess a state. They leave the world behind and live in seclusion in the mountains or on an island. Such people are not unknown. Why, then, did someone like Suiguang hasten to drown himself, needlessly throwing away his precious life?

Perhaps it is because scholars who cannot follow a centered and balanced path, but deliberately cultivate aloofness and act on their own, often fall into one-sidedness. Those who crave too much never know contentment and eventually turn to usurpation and rebellion. Those who yield too much avoid everything at every turn, and may in the end go so far as to take their own lives. This does more than show that they refuse to accept the position: it pushes their refusal to an extreme so that later generations will see it. It, too, is an excessive pursuit of fame.

Only sages who follow the middle way avoid these failings. They yield when it is right to yield and accept when it is right to accept. Whether they withdraw or enter public life, they respond to the times with ease and remain true to the middle way. Yao and Shun acted in this manner.

Bo Yi and Shu Qi yielded the position of ruler and fled to Mount Shouyang, where they lived on gathered fern shoots until the end of their lives. They did not act like those who deliberately put on an appearance of lofty purity to court a reputation. Rather, the times were dark and virtue had declined so far that they could not stand alongside other people. They resolved to distance themselves from the world and hold themselves apart, preserving the Dao they carried within. They were willing to die for it.

To yield the throne after already becoming ruler is an open and public act; to withdraw before becoming ruler is more concealed. The intention to yield is the same in both cases. Their actions differed only because the circumstances of the times were different.