《南華真經循本》Vol. 10

This passage comes from Volume 10 of Nanhua Zhenjing Xunben (A Guide to the True Scripture of Southern Florescence), with annotations by Luo Miandao and collated by his disciple Peng Xiang. It primarily discusses the "Horses' Hooves" chapter from the Zhuangzi's Outer Chapters.

The text begins by describing horses' natural disposition: their hooves can tread on frost and snow, their coats can withstand wind and cold; they eat grass, drink water, and gallop freely. Even the most magnificent ceremonial towers (ancient elevated platforms with buildings, used for court rituals) or royal audience halls hold no value for them.

It then describes Bo Le's (the ancient horse expert Sun Yang, nicknamed Bo Le for his mastery and said to be the reincarnation of the celestial Bo Le Star) methods of taming horses: branding them with hot irons, trimming their hooves, marking their bodies, cutting their skin joints, restraining them with bridles, and confining them to mangers. Such training causes twenty to thirty percent of horses to die. When combined with starvation, thirst, forced running, and whipping, the mortality rate exceeds half.

Potters boast of skillfully shaping clay into vessels—round ones matching compasses, square ones matching squares. Carpenters pride themselves on expertly working wood—curved pieces fitting curved rulers, straight ones aligning with ink lines. But was it ever the inherent nature of clay or wood to conform to these artificial measurements? Yet people praise Bo Le for taming horses, potters and carpenters for processing materials. This forceful alteration of things' fundamental nature, the text argues, mirrors the errors of those who govern the world.

The true sage ruler, it continues, would never act this way. People possess their natural disposition: weaving clothes for warmth, farming for food—this is called shared innate nature. Simple and unselfish, it's termed spontaneous freedom. In eras when the Dao and its Virtue (De) flourished, people moved with dignified composure and gazed with pure simplicity. Mountains bore no carved paths, waters carried no boats or bridges. All creatures grew together, beasts moved in herds, plants flourished freely. Humans could walk hand-in-hand with animals, peer casually into birds' nests. This was the age of perfect Virtue.

This passage describes Zhuangzi's vision of the "Age of Perfect Virtue" (zhide zhi shi) and how later society deviated from this natural state.

In the Age of Perfect Virtue, plants grew freely, humans and animals coexisted harmoniously, and one could casually climb trees to observe birds' nests. There were no distinctions between noble and common people - all maintained their simple, genuine nature without artificial desires. This state was called "plain simplicity" (supu), where human nature remained perfectly preserved.

Later, so-called "sages" emerged who forcibly promoted benevolence and righteousness (renyi), causing people to become suspicious. Just as walking on tiptoe feels unnatural, the deliberate pursuit of virtue appears artificial. Eventually, excessive music and elaborate rituals appeared, leading to social fragmentation.

The text uses several metaphors: Only uncarved wood can make proper sacrificial vessels; only uncut white jade can become ritual objects. If virtue (de) remains unbroken, why would benevolence be needed? If human nature stays whole, what use are rituals and music? Like craftsmen destroying nature's integrity by carving wood into utensils, sages damaged innate nature by imposing moral codes.

A final horse analogy illustrates this: In their natural state, horses rub necks when happy and kick when angry. But when harnessed by humans, they learn resistance tactics - anticipating restraints before armor is donned, escaping before leaving city gates. This shows artificial constraints provoke rebellion, proving natural spontaneity (ziran) superior.

The passage employs two metaphors to critique the harms of human interference. First, it describes how a narrow city gate can cause horses to bolt out of control, subtly suggesting that even the legendary horse-tamer Bole inadvertently taught horses to steal—a fault of the trainer. Then it depicts the natural state of people in ancient times under the rule of Emperor Hexu (a mythical ruler who governed through Wuwei, non-action), when they ate and drank their fill and wandered freely. But when later sages imposed rituals, music, and moral codes—hoisting up the standards of benevolence and righteousness for people to strain after—the people began scheming and competing for fame and profit. This chaos, too, was the fault of the sages’ forced teachings.

The term "xuan qi" (悬跂, "suspended tiptoeing") vividly illustrates how artificially elevating moral standards distorts behavior, like dangling something just out of reach to force people to stretch unnaturally. The core message condemns education that violates natural human tendencies, advocating instead a return to the simplicity of Wuwei governance.