《南華真經註疏》Vol. 14

Although Heaven and Earth are vast, the transformations of the myriad things within them are all alike.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Heaven and Earth do not act deliberately; the myriad things transform of themselves, spontaneously.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: Heaven and Earth shelter and nurture the myriad things, their scope vast and boundless. The forms of the myriad things are continually renewed and transformed, yet their transformations are alike. They shift from moment to moment and vanish with each passing instant, but in essence all are the same. That is why it is said that Heaven and Earth allow each thing to find its proper place.

Although the myriad things are numerous, the fundamental principle for governing them is one.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Govern them by allowing each to follow its nature and find fulfillment in itself.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: The myriad things comprise many kinds, but if each follows its nature and rests content in itself, their principle is one. “Nourishing them” means that Heaven and Earth sustain the myriad things. Hence it is also said that the myriad things and I are one.

Although the people are numerous, there is only one ruler to direct affairs of state.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: People throughout the world have different minds. Only someone free of private interests is fit to be their ruler.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: Though the people, soldiers, and servants are many, only one person directs affairs of state and occupies the ruler’s position. If the ruler acts without imposing his own will and lets things take their course, fulfilling this role appropriately, he can enable each to find its proper place.

The ruler takes De (Virtue/Power) as his foundation and thereby fulfills the Way of Heaven.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Taking De as the foundation, nothing among the myriad things fails to find its proper place. They find that place because each follows its nature and finds fulfillment in itself. In this way, they preserve what they have attained and accord with the Way of nature.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: “Origin” means foundation. A ruler who governs the myriad things must take De as his foundation. Only when each thing follows its nature and finds fulfillment in itself can it fully preserve its natural character.

Thus it is said that the rulers of antiquity governed the world through non-action, simply following the De of Heaven.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Letting nature run its course.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: “The Mysterious Antiquity” refers to the most distant past; here it means the rulers who lived before the Three Sovereigns. What, after all, did the sage rulers of antiquity do when they governed the world through non-action? Ancient examples are cited here to explain the principle of following the De of Heaven.

Observe words through the Dao (the Way), and the principles of the rulers of the world will be set right.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: To hold the ruler’s position through non-action and spontaneity is not improper.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: Use the empty, all-pervading principle to observe the ways of responding to the myriad things. If the ruler practices non-action and lets nature take its course, without adopting deviant doctrines, he accords with the Way of kingship.

Observe each person’s duties through the Dao, and the proper relationship between ruler and minister will become clear.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Each must properly fulfill their own role; only then can there be non-action. Those above act without imposing their will, while those below carry out their tasks.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: The ruler’s way is non-action; the minister’s way is to attend to affairs. Their ranks differ, as do their burdens and ease, and this is how things naturally are. It is like the head being naturally above and the feet naturally below. Observe them through the Dao, and each person’s duties will become clear.

By using the Dao (the Way) to observe and arrange people’s abilities, every official post in the realm can be filled by someone suited to it, and governance can be properly carried out. When officials each fit their own roles, they can handle the affairs entrusted to them well.

By using the Dao to observe the myriad things broadly, each thing can respond in a fitting way. Wuwei (non-action) does not mean forcibly intervening. It means following the way things are by nature, allowing each thing in the realm to run its course and respond on its own. The Great Dao gives life to and nurtures the myriad things. Though their natures differ, each can grow in keeping with its own nature: some run, some fly, and all can fulfill their functions. They do not know why they are as they are, nor do they need to be deliberately arranged. Thus, by observing everything through principle, one can see that each thing responds fully in its own way.

What connects Heaven and Earth is De (Virtue/Power). All things receive from it what each needs, and this is why Heaven and Earth can be connected. Here, De means the fundamental power shared by all things, through which Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things are connected to one another.

What moves through the myriad things is the Dao. The Dao does not block the paths proper to each thing, so each can naturally fulfill its function. The highest principle meets no obstruction: it allows all things to come and go, moving along with them. This is why it is called the Dao.

For those who occupy positions of authority and govern the people, the key is to enable everyone to do their part well. To govern the people, one should follow their nature. When each person makes use of their abilities, they can live and work in a fitting way; each matter then finds its proper means of handling, and the realm is brought into order.

Having a strength and mastering a particular ability is called a “skill.” Here, “skill” means the abilities that things possess by virtue of their own nature, not abilities imposed on them from outside; it is therefore a genuine capacity.

A skill must be put to use in concrete affairs; affairs must accord with what is right; what is right must be rooted in De; De, in turn, must be rooted in the Dao; and the Dao ultimately connects with the Way of Heaven. Here, jian means to include, relate to, and bring things to completion. Just as the arm is connected to the body and the two work together, allowing the whole body to move in harmony, so following the Way of Heaven allows both the roots and the branches of things to flow freely.

More specifically, a skill must be applied to an affair, or it has no way to be put into practice. If an affair is handled improperly, the skill is of no use. Even conduct that accords with what is right must not depart from De. And possessing De still requires taking as one’s model the Dao, which is open and unobstructed. In the end, all of this returns to the principle of following nature. Skills, affairs, what is right, De, and the Dao are connected, though they differ in function and level. Grasp the root, and it can encompass the branches. This is the movement from the shallow to the deep, and from the branches back to the root.

Thus it is said that the ancients who were skilled at governing the realm did not impose their private desires to seize what they wanted; what the realm needed was then sufficient. They did not intervene recklessly, and the myriad things were able to grow and transform naturally.

Heaven follows the natural course and therefore acts without deliberate effort. It follows the Great Dao and therefore has no desires. What, then, did the ancient emperors need to do to nurture the people and govern the myriad beings? If they had no selfish desires, the people could each find sufficiency for themselves; if they governed through Wuwei (non-action), all things would grow and transform naturally.

When the mind is deep and still, the people are at peace.

A ruler who lets his robes hang loose, folds his hands, and remains still and silent allows the people to live in peace and prosper; every household can then be worthy of praise. Thus the Laozi says, “I cherish stillness, and the people naturally set themselves right.” The Record says, “Once one has grasped the One, all things can be understood.”

The “One” is the Dao. All things arise from its principle, and that principle necessarily encompasses them all. Grasp the root, and you can govern the branches. Thus, once one has grasped the One, all things can be understood. This saying appears in the Scripture of Western Ascension (Xisheng Jing), which Zhuangzi cites as evidence.

When the mind is free of attachments, even spirits and gods show reverence.

[Commentary] If one acts through Wuwei, all affairs and principles can be handled properly.

Though a person lives in the ordinary world, their actions accord with the natural order. They probe things to their source, understand them to their utmost extent, and attain a state of subtle and profound insight. In the eyes of the world, such a person is one to whom people turn for guidance; in the unseen realm, they can also command the reverence of spirits and gods.

Laozi says, “The Dao envelops and sustains all things—how vast it is! A noble person must clear away attachments from the mind.”

[Commentary] Attachment obstructs one’s natural nature, so it should be cleared away.

The “Master” mentioned here is Laozi. Zhuangzi regarded Laozi as his teacher, and so addresses him this way. “Hollowing out” means cutting away and clearing; in other words, making the mind empty, still, and open. The Dao, empty, still, and open, encompasses everything and has no boundaries. Heaven and earth rely on it to envelop and sustain all things, and all things are brought to life and transformed through it. Nothing does not come from the Dao. Here, the vastness of the Dao is praised, while the rulers of the age are urged to emulate its Wuwei and wash away the burdens of selfishness and attachment.

To achieve something without deliberate effort is called Heaven.

[Commentary] When one does not deliberately bring something about, yet it happens naturally, this is the Way of Heaven.

[Exegesis] Follow one’s nature and refrain from contrivance; then the workings of Heaven will proceed of themselves. This is why it is called “Heaven.” This is how Wuwei can accomplish things.

To say nothing deliberately, yet answer appropriately, is called De (Virtue/Power).

[Commentary] When one does not deliberately arrange one’s words, yet speech arises naturally, this is true De.

[Exegesis] The mind is still and does not initiate discussion, yet it responds to each situation and can meet every demand. It is like a bright mirror hanging in a great hall: when something appears, it reflects it naturally. Whether speaking or remaining silent, one does not contrive; this is why it is called “De.” This is how one can answer without deliberately speaking.

To care for people and benefit all things is called benevolence.

[Commentary] This means allowing each thing to follow its own disposition and inborn nature.

[Exegesis] Compassion moves across the sky like clouds, and grace falls upon all things like rain. With no selfishness or attachment in the heart, one’s beneficence can extend widely.

Caring universally for the lives of all things is called “benevolence.”

Not erasing the differences among them is called “greatness.”

Commentary: All things have different forms and each keeps to its proper place. Greatness comes from not insisting that they all be the same as oneself.

Exegesis: All things differ in appearance, and their dispositions differ too. Letting them follow their original nature, so that they come together naturally without being divided, is called “greatness.”

Conduct that does not appear eccentric or extreme is called “broadness.”

Commentary: When one is fully connected with all things, without distinction between self and others, all things can dwell at ease; the heart is therefore spacious.

Exegesis: Restrain your sharpness and conceal your traces; blend into ordinary life and live among the people. Cultivate virtue without setting yourself apart from others, and conduct yourself without deliberately distinguishing yourself from all things. Let the heart have no boundaries, like a vast marsh that can contain forests, fields, and living beings. This is called forbearance.

Having the distinct qualities of all things is called “wealth.”

Commentary: I reject no differences, and so I alone can possess this great variety.

Exegesis: Seated as ruler, governing a great feudal state with ten thousand chariots, allow all things to remain different. Follow the differences among living beings and let every nature unfold. In this way, one can be rich in all under Heaven.

Thus, being able to uphold virtue is called “the guiding principle.”

Commentary: Virtue is the guiding principle by which a person conducts and establishes himself.

Exegesis: By upholding the virtue one possesses, one can become the guiding order that governs all things.

When virtue is cultivated to completion, it is called “establishment.”

Commentary: Accomplishment without virtue cannot be called true establishment.

Exegesis: Only after virtue has been cultivated can one establish achievements and bring aid to all things.

Following the Great Way is called “completeness.”

Commentary: The Great Way does not favor any thing.

Exegesis: “Following” means going along with. Only by following the unobstructed, open Great Way can virtue be complete.

Not allowing external things to weaken one’s resolve is called “wholeness.”

Commentary: This is contentment within the heart.

Exegesis: “Weaken” means to diminish or bend. Treat disgrace and praise alike, and do not let worldly things harm your integrity; then virtue can remain whole.

When a noble person understands these ten principles, he can calmly embrace all affairs and keep a broad heart.

Commentary: The heart is spacious, so there is nothing it cannot embrace.

Exegesis: “Embrace” means to contain. If noble and worthy people can accomplish the ten things described above, they can contain all affairs and keep a broad nature.

The virtue of a noble person is abundant, and all things turn toward him.

Commentary: His virtue spreads far and wide, allowing all things to go wherever they will.

Exegesis: “Go” means to proceed. Because his nature is at ease and his virtue is abundant, all living beings turn toward him.

Such a person is like someone who stores gold in the mountains and pearls in the depths.

Commentary: He does not prize rare treasures.

Exegesis: If one can accomplish all that has been described above, this is Wuwei (non-action). Since one does not covet glory and wealth, naturally one will not…

He does not regard jewels and wealth as precious. Pearls are born in the water; no one needs to seek them out, for they naturally lie hidden in the depths. Gold comes from the mountains; no one needs to claim it, for it naturally lies hidden in the high peaks.

He does not covet wealth or profit.

Note: If one can forget oneself, how much more readily can one forget wealth?

Commentary: Even when he obtains pearls and jade, he does not covet them as a means of sustaining himself. How, then, could he use the things he ordinarily handles to pursue profit?

He does not draw near to the eminent and wealthy.

Note: They may come and go with him naturally, but in his heart he always keeps his distance from them.

Commentary: He lets comings and goings follow their natural course, without sorrow or joy. Thus he keeps his distance from high officials and nobles outwardly, and does not draw near to the wealthy inwardly.

He is not glad at a long life, nor grieved by an early death.

Note: This is what is called “release from hanging upside down”—freedom from a predicament that holds one in torment.

Commentary: If his life is long, he does not take it as cause for rejoicing. If it is short, he does not take it as cause for grief.

He takes no pride in rising to prominence, nor shame in falling into hardship.

Note: If he does not concern himself even with longevity or early death, how much less would he be troubled by changes between hardship and prominence?

Commentary: Wealth and high status are no cause for pride; poverty and low status, or being thwarted, are no cause for shame. If he does not concern himself with the length of his life, how could feelings of honor and disgrace remain in his heart?

He does not claim as his own the benefits of an entire age.

Note: He entrusts these benefits to all things.

Commentary: Even if he shines across the world and rules over the four seas, with all its treasures belonging to one person, he still does not covet wealth. He gives it to the people of the realm. How could he claim it as his own private property?

He does not regard ruling the world as a mark of honor in his exalted position.

Note: Even when splendor falls to him, he remains wholly unaware of it.

Commentary: Even as ruler of the world, governing the people, he credits his achievements to all things and forgets his own wealth and status. Thus he does not take pride in his exalted position.

When prominent, he acts openly; when not, he grows still and does nothing.

Note: When he is not prominent, he falls silent and comes to rest.

Commentary: “Openly” means to make manifest. Even if, like one stationed at Fenyang, he holds high office, yet loses the realm, he can still display his abilities. How, then, could this be called concealing his light?

All things return to one, and the forms of life and death are no different.

Note: He is free and unattached, with nothing to bind him.

Commentary: By forgetting the distinction between self and things, he can regard all things as one. By seeing through change, he understands that life and death are no different in form. Changes between life and death cannot affect him; how much less could differences between hardship and prominence, or early death and longevity?

Confucius said, “The abode of the Dao is deep and mysterious, clear and pure.”

Commentary: The highest principle is profound and mysterious, like a deep pool or the sea. It is also clear and pure, bright enough, it seems, to reveal even one’s eyebrows. Calling it “deep” praises its stillness and profundity; calling it “clear” praises how, even amid change… (The original text ends here.)

The heart remains pure at all times. In some editions, “pure” is written as “lord” instead.

Metal and stone make no sound unless struck.

Note: Sound emerges from silence.

Commentary: A ringing sound emerges from silence, while a response arises from a true inner foundation.

Thus, although metal and stone can produce sound, they do not ring unless struck.

Note: This is a metaphor for those who embody the Dao: they respond only after being moved by external things.

Commentary: “Struck” means hit. Metal and stone inherently contain the notes gong, shang, and the other musical tones, but they make no sound unless struck. This is like the mind of a perfected person—a person of profound virtue—which inherently holds sagehood. Unless external things move that person, their response cannot appear. Earlier, deep water was used to illustrate the profound Dao; here, metal and stone reveal the sage’s mind.

Among the myriad things, who can prescribe in advance how they will respond?

Note: There is no fixed rule for how to respond to external things.

Commentary: This is like a clear mirror or an empty valley: when things arrive, the mirror reflects them and the valley echoes them, but neither makes a response with deliberate intent. External things have endless lengths and shapes, so responses likewise have no fixed boundaries or forms.

One who possesses the virtue of a ruler acts in accordance with innate nature, yet is ashamed to be versed in worldly affairs.

Note: This person simply follows their nature; they do not deliberately seek to become versed in worldly matters.

Commentary: “Plainness” refers to one’s innate nature, and “to go” means to proceed or act. A person of great virtue is neither proud nor boastful, but simply follows their innate nature. Because they hold fast to simplicity, stillness, and purity, they do not wish to set their mind on worldly affairs.

They take their stand on the root and bring their understanding through to the realm of the mysterious.

Note: Once the root is established, understanding will not go against the principle of things.

Commentary: “Spirit” refers to an efficacy that is difficult to fathom. It always takes principle as its root, while adapting flexibly in response to external things. Mysterious understanding can penetrate things, but its wondrous efficacy must rely on the root. The point here is that the root gives rise to efficacy, and efficacy does not depart from the root.

Therefore, their virtue is vast.

Note: When one follows innate nature and reaches through to the mysterious, virtue becomes even greater.

Commentary: The heart is still and simple, without deliberate action; one follows innate nature. Understanding can reach through all things while remaining grounded in the root. Efficacy does not depart from its source, and action does not disturb inner stillness. Is such virtue not vast and profound?

Their inner heart becomes manifest because external things seek something from them.

Note: Their heart appears only when external things make an appeal to them; they do not initiate action ahead of those things.

Commentary: “To gather” means to seek or obtain. The utmost sage is open and receptive like an empty valley. When external things encounter them, they receive a natural response. Without anything external seeking a response, their sage virtue would have no occasion to appear. Their intention is expressed precisely because external things have moved them to respond. This shows that they follow external things without speaking first or placing themselves ahead of them.

Therefore, without the Dao, the body cannot come into being; without De, life cannot be made manifest.

Commentary: “Form” refers to the human body, “life” to the course of a lifetime, “De” to the wisdom that clarifies the principles of things, and “Dao” to the realm one can reach. The Dao enables life and the myriad things to flow through one another.

Without the Dao (the source of all things and the principle by which they operate), the myriad things could not come into being and flourish. Without De (the Dao as it is embodied and active in all things), one could not clearly discern or see into the root of things. The Laozi says, “The Dao gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things; De stores up and nurtures them.”

Follow each body’s original form, whether beautiful or ugly. Let each live out its allotted years, whether its life is short or long. Establish abundant De to meet the affairs of the world, and let the utmost Dao run through the myriad things. Is this not the De of one who possesses kingly virtue?

“Vast and level” describes something broad and even. “Suddenly” and “spontaneously” both describe responding without intention: when one acts or manifests without deliberate intent, the myriad things follow. This is the De of one who possesses kingly virtue. To be without intention means not to control things deliberately, but to respond to them and let them follow their own nature. In this way, each thing finds its proper place, as though all virtues were present together.

He looks into the deep darkness and listens where there is no sound. The utmost Dao is profound and mysterious; the sage’s mind is settled in stillness. It has no form or color for the eyes to see, and no sound for the ears to hear.

Yet within the darkness, it alone perceives and understands; amid silence, it alone hears harmony. If, when looking and listening, one cannot let the mind rest in stillness, one will fall into confusion and fail to respond harmoniously to the myriad things. Though the utmost Dao has neither form nor sound, it can bring forth the myriad forms and harmonize the many sounds. This shows how the activity of responding to things arises from fundamental stillness.

Thus, only by entering the deepest depths can one bring the myriad things to completion; only by reaching the most mysterious subtlety can one grasp what is most refined. Only by tracing things back to their source can one bring them to completion and respond to them in all their variety. “Spirit” means what cannot be fathomed. Stillness and responsiveness are joined: both Nonbeing and Being are accessible. It cannot be said to be measurable, nor can it be said to be wholly beyond measure. This is what is meant by mysterious subtlety. Only by reaching the utmost accord with nature can one grasp what is most refined.

Therefore, when he engages with the myriad things, he remains in a state of utmost emptiness, yet can meet their needs. He firmly keeps to his own emptiness and stillness, leaving everything to the other; the needs of the myriad things are then met of themselves. By continually letting go of attachments until one reaches utmost emptiness, one can respond to the myriad things without constraint, answering each in accordance with the moment. Needs of every kind can be met, like the bright mirror hanging in a lofty hall…

All things come here, and their nature can be seen.

Let them run their course according to the circumstances of the moment, and grasp the point where they finally converge. Whether they are great or small, long or short, near or far, you can respond to them all.

Note: Let things develop naturally; it is enough to grasp where they ultimately arrive.

Commentary: “Run their course” means to let them proceed freely; “converge” means to come together. Those who understand the root of the Dao are utterly empty and still in mind. They can therefore follow the conditions of the moment, let things take their natural course, and respond to the differing needs of all things. What they seek to grasp is the point at which each thing finds its proper place, without becoming fixed on any single method. Thus things may be great or small, short or long, even winding and far-reaching. Whatever comes, they respond to its circumstances and needs, treating it like an illness with its fitting remedy, and nothing is handled inappropriately.

The Yellow Emperor was traveling on the northern bank of the Red River. He climbed Mount Kunlun and gazed southward. On his way back, he lost his Dark Pearl, a treasure that symbolizes the true nature of the Dao.

Note: This story illustrates how one may attain the truth.

Commentary: Red is the color of the south, and the heart belongs to the south. Water is fluid and is associated with the north. The “northern bank of the Red River” is used here to symbolize the heart losing itself in external things, sinking into such obscurity that it can no longer see clearly. Mount Kunlun represents the body. The south is the direction in which light becomes visible, and “gazing” means looking and perceiving. “Dark” suggests what is remote and profound; a “pearl” is a precious treasure. The point is that most people in the world are deluded in body and mind: they chase after and become absorbed in external things without realizing it. They are dark like the north and restless like flowing water, and so lose their true nature and the Dao. Now they must return to the root and source, seeking their true nature and searching for the Dao. Thus the Yellow Emperor gazes southward to represent seeing clearly, while losing the Dark Pearl represents losing one’s original truth. The text first explains how the truth is lost, then goes on to describe how the Dao may be attained; the details follow.

The Yellow Emperor sent Zhi (the mind’s faculty of knowing) to search for it, but Zhi could not find it.

Note: This means that the true nature cannot be attained through the mind’s powers alone.

Commentary: “Search” means to look for. The true nature cannot be sought through the calculating mind.

The Yellow Emperor sent Li Zhu, whose eyesight was said to be exceptionally keen, to search for it, but he could not find it either.

Commentary: The true nature cannot be obtained by looking for it among visible forms and colors.

The Yellow Emperor sent Chikou, a skilled debater, to search for it, but he could not find it.

Note: However clever and eloquent one may be, such qualities can lead one ever farther from the true nature.

Commentary: “Chikou” refers to verbal argument and debate. The true nature cannot be sought through argument.

Then he sent Xiangwang, a symbol of being without mind or trace, to search for it, and Xiangwang found the Dark Pearl.

Commentary: “Wangxiang” refers to a state without mind. By turning away from sights and sounds and ceasing to deliberate, one is no longer drawn along by external things like Li Zhu, nor does one struggle to obtain the truth through argument like Chikou, thereby losing it. Only Xiangwang, empty of mind, found the Dark Pearl on his own.

The Yellow Emperor said, “How extraordinary! Could Xiangwang really have found it?”

Note: This explains that attaining the truth does not depend on deliberate effort of mind. Xiangwang’s state of being without mind or trace is precisely what accords with the true nature.

Li Lou, the legendary sharp-eyed man, lost his true nature because he relied on his eyesight and, as a result, lost the Dao. The Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, grasped the principle and lamented that he was like Wangxiang: by relying on neither cleverness nor skill, he had found the pearl. This is an exhortation to those who seek learning: there is no need to abandon the body or cast off wisdom in order to understand the truth. The key is to curb excessive cleverness and avoid being led astray by distorted views.

Yao’s teacher was Xu You; Xu You’s teacher was Nie Que; Nie Que’s teacher was Wang Ni; and Wang Ni’s teacher was Bei Yi.

Commentary: These four were all recluses in Yao’s time. They rejected the corruption of worldly life, cherished the Dao and De, remained upright and pure, and refused to go along with common ways. Yao knew they were worthy and wanted to yield the realm to them. Zhuangzi sets out this line of teachers and students to show that the Dao was passed down.

Yao asked Xu You, “Could Nie Que take the place of the Son of Heaven? I would like to enlist Wang Ni’s help in inviting him.”

Note: Here, “matched with Heaven” means becoming the Son of Heaven. “Enlist” means to rely on someone or seek their help. Yao wants to approach Nie Que through his teacher, Wang Ni, and persuade him to enter public service.

Commentary: Yao considers Nie Que worthy, with the De needed to take the throne. Hoping to use Wang Ni’s connection to make a tactful request that Nie Que accept, he asks Xu You for advice.

Xu You said, “I fear that would bring disaster. To hand the realm to Nie Que would be dangerous; the signs of calamity are already close at hand.”

Note: “Ji” means danger.

Commentary: “Dai” means near, and “ji” means peril. If Nie Que were to accept the realm and govern a state of ten thousand chariots, it would likely bring ruin; the danger is already close.

Nie Que was intelligent and discerning, quick to respond, swift in thought, and naturally more gifted than ordinary people.

Note: Excessive cleverness can make people admire and follow someone, often to the detriment of the people.

Commentary: “Rui” means discerning, “gei” means quick, and “min” means swift. When a sage governs the realm, the hanging strands of the ceremonial crown obscure his sight, and yellow silk plugs his ears. These symbolize not relying too much on the acuity of the eyes and ears, or craving too much information and knowledge. Nie Que, however, possessed inner sage wisdom and displayed outward cleverness. He spoke quickly and argued skillfully; his plans were far-reaching, and his abilities and conduct surpassed those of ordinary people. Displaying his talents in this way could invite disaster and bring ruin.

What is more, he wants to use human intelligence to restore people’s natural nature.

Note: People have been separated from their original nature for a long time, yet he wants to use the mind and methods to return them to their original state. This would only take their natural nature farther from what is true.

Commentary: He is clear-sighted about how to prevent faults, but does not know where they come from.

Note: Faults arise from excessive use of cleverness and intelligence. Trying to suppress them by force through schemes and stratagems only makes them worse. The key to avoiding faults is to remove excessive cleverness, not to restrain them by force.

This passage says that people’s faults often arise from knowing too much and clinging to what they know. Jie Que, a figure in an ancient parable, knew only how to inspect and prohibit the people’s wrongdoing, but not where such wrongdoing came from. If he were granted the position of ruler and governed the world, he would rely on human intelligence instead of following the natural Dao.

If the world were entrusted to such a person, he would make later generations depend on the mind to govern all things, causing them to lose their original nature. He would take himself as the standard and make all things change shape and conform to him. The commentary explains that the sage does not impose his own will, but follows nature and lets each thing develop in its own way. Jie Que, by contrast, takes himself as the foundation and leads all things to submit to him. This makes them lose their nature, and the troubles that will beset the world begin here.

He would also exalt cleverness, making people rush after it as urgently as fire spreads. In doing so, he would set in motion the affairs and forced labor of later generations, and lead people to restrain and control all things. He would travel in every direction, issuing commands and making people throughout the land answer to his decrees. He would then use his own intelligence to meet the many needs of the people, finding it difficult to respond to things without a controlling mind; he would therefore be bound to fall into danger.

As a result, later generations would chase after external things and change with them, unable to remain inwardly at ease.

The Subcommentary (clarifying explanation) says: To impose one’s own views on everyone is to want all things to change in accordance with them. Yet once things lose their inherent nature as a result, I myself have gained nothing of real value. This way of acting has never produced lasting results.

The Note says: Such measures merely meet the needs of the moment. People may enjoy their benefits today, then suffer their harms tomorrow. That is why they produce no lasting results.

The Subcommentary says: Governing all things through schemes and cleverness sends orders in many different directions. People first receive the benefits, then later suffer the harms. This departs from the simplicity of ancient ways, and so cannot last.

How could this way of acting be enough to accord with the Way of Heaven? Still, among the kinds of things it involves, there are roots worthy of emulation.

The Note says: In the principles it touches on, one can still find roots that are worthy of emulation.

The Subcommentary says: “Thicket” means a place where trees and shrubs grow in dense clusters. Nie Que lived in seclusion in the mountains and forests. His aspirations were lofty, and he refused to mingle with worldly society. He was not yet able to accord with the Way of Heaven, but few among ordinary people were like him. His elevated and far-reaching aspirations were indeed worthy of emulation.

He might serve as a teacher to the people, but he could not yet become a “teacher of teachers.”

The Note says: “Teacher of teachers” refers to an outward title and visible conduct.

The Subcommentary says: Here, “father” carries the sense of ruler and teacher. Nie Que prized what was lofty and distant, practiced Wuwei (non-action), and refused to follow custom. His Way could be passed on, so he could serve as a teacher to the people, but he could not yet become a “teacher of teachers.” Yao was the “teacher of teachers”: though he stood above all things, his mind longed for Mount Gushe; when he went to visit the four recluses, he was at Fenyang. Yao could act amid stillness and remain still amid action. He could practice Wuwei and also act, bringing action and non-action, being and nonbeing, into unity, so that movement and stillness were inseparable. Thus he could be a ruler among rulers and a teacher among teachers. To exhaust the principles of things, give full expression to one’s nature, and reach a state of mystery upon mystery, thereby becoming a teacher to all beings—this was what Yao was suited to do. Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “ ‘Teacher of teachers’ refers to an outward title and visible conduct.”

This, too, is a root cause by which an age of order turns into an age of disorder.

The Note says: This can become not only the guiding principle of governance, but also a source of calamity and disorder.

The Subcommentary says: “Lead” means to guide. If one governs all things through schemes and cleverness, this may bring peace for a time, but it will inevitably give rise to disorder later on. In both cases, cleverness is the guiding force.

This is the calamity that befalls ministers when they occupy the ruler’s position.

The Note says: Jie and Zhou did not personally kill worthy ministers; they used the name and methods of sagehood and wisdom to harm them.

The Subcommentary says: Jie and Zhou killed worthy ministers in the name of sage wisdom, so sage wisdom became a calamity for ministers.

This is the calamity that befalls those who occupy the ruler’s position.

The Note says: Tian Heng did not kill the ruler through his own strength; he usurped the ruler’s position in the name of benevolence and righteousness.

The Subcommentary says: Tian Heng killed the ruler in the name of benevolence and righteousness, so benevolence and righteousness became a calamity for rulers. Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “Tian Heng did not personally kill the ruler; he harmed him in the name of benevolence and righteousness.”

When Yao traveled through Hua to inspect the region, the man guarding its borders exclaimed, “Please allow me to offer a blessing to the Sage.”

Commentary: Hua is a place name, corresponding to what is now Hua Prefecture. “Border guard” refers to the man who watched over Hua’s boundaries. “Ah!” is an exclamation. Seeing that Yao possessed the De (Virtue) of a Sage and that his beneficence reached throughout the realm, the guard wished him lasting prosperity, abundant blessings, and a long life.

Yao declined each wish in turn: he declined the wish that the Sage be prosperous, and he also declined the wish that the Sage have many sons.

Commentary: Prosperity, longevity, and many descendants are among the wishes people prize most. But those who truly understand the Dao (the Way) of Wuwei (non-action) let go of such pursuits. The dialogue between the border guard and Yao is used to show the troubles these three things may bring. The reason for Yao’s refusals will become clear below.

The guard asked, “Long life, prosperity, and many sons are all things people desire. Why are you the only one who does not want them?”

Commentary: The three things mentioned above are among people’s greatest wishes. Unable to understand why Yao declined them, the guard asked him to explain.

Yao replied, “If you have many sons, you have many concerns. If you are prosperous, you have many affairs to attend to. If you live a long life, you may suffer many hardships and humiliations. None of these three things can nurture De, so I decline them.”

Commentary: With many children and grandchildren come many worries. Abundant possessions bring a multitude of affairs. A longer life may also bring hardship and disgrace. These three things do not nurture the De of Wuwei; instead, they may add to the burden of human striving. That is why Yao declined them all.

The border guard said, “At first I thought you were a Sage. Now I see you are merely a gentleman.”

Commentary: The guard says that he had thought Yao possessed unsurpassed insight and had truly realized the Dao. But seeing him set aside practical affairs and turn instead toward Wuwei, he concludes that Yao is only a worthy gentleman.

Yao said, “Heaven gives life to the people, and surely assigns each of them a fitting role. If I have many sons, let each have a role to fulfill. What is there to worry about?”

Note: When each thing finds its proper place, the mind can be at peace.

Commentary: Heaven and Earth bring forth all things, each with its own abilities. If people are assigned roles according to their abilities, what is there to worry about?

Yao continued, “If I am prosperous, let everyone share in that prosperity. What affairs are there to trouble me?”

Note: If wealth is shared among all under Heaven, there is nothing for oneself to manage.

Commentary: When the people are prosperous and the four quarters are abundant, wealth can be entrusted to everyone rather than kept for oneself. In this way one can practice Wuwei and have few affairs to attend to.

The Sage roosts like a quail and feeds like a fledgling.

Note: “Roosts like a quail” means making no deliberate arrangements and seeking only comfort. “Feeds like a fledgling” means relying on what is provided by others and being content with it.

Commentary: Quails rest outdoors and have no fixed dwelling, while fledglings rely on their mother to feed them. The Sage lives simply, finding ease in nature like the quail and remaining content with whatever sustenance is provided, like the fledgling.

However much food has been prepared, it is served only as needed. Now, when it comes to a newly hatched bird, which has no interest in luxury or abundance, how could it care about the taste of its food?

The bird flies without leaving a trace.

Commentary: It acts in accordance with its nature and leaves no trace of deliberate contrivance.

Explanation: Here, “showing” means becoming visible or leaving a trace. The sage casts aside selfish thoughts and clever schemes, merging with all things like a bird passing through the sky without leaving a visible trace.

When the Way prevails in the world, one flourishes together with all things.

Commentary: This means acting in accordance with one’s nature and naturally conforming to the Dao.

Explanation: When the world is peaceful and well governed, the sage administers the realm and brings stability and prosperity to the people. When all things respond and come forth, the sage follows the course of events. Guo Xiang’s commentary interprets this as “acting without restraint,” but that likely does not accord with the original meaning.

When the Way does not prevail in the world, one cultivates De and withdraws to live apart.

Commentary: Even when people rise up and act, as Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou did, they do not go against the Dao so long as they follow Heaven’s mandate and respond to the people’s wishes.

Thus, “Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing is left undone” does not mean that one must always withdraw and remain inactive when disorder reigns.

Explanation: The character “jian” is read as “xian,” meaning to dwell quietly in seclusion. When disorder prevails, the sage blends into the world, conceals his radiance, cultivates De, and hides his traces, preserving both life and the Dao. At times he withdraws into seclusion; at others, he enters public life and rises to prominence. In either case, he follows the circumstances of the time.

After living for a thousand years, weary of the world, he leaves the human realm and ascends to immortality.

Commentary: The Perfected One, having enjoyed the full span of a long life, can also let all things change as they will. In life, he follows the natural course; after death, he changes along with all things. Hence it is said that he grows weary of the dusty world and departs as an immortal.

Explanation: The sage understands that life and death are no different and sees that the transformations of all things are one. He therefore follows nature, whatever the length of his life. Weary of the world’s clamor, he dissolves and rises into the heavens. The story of ascending to immortality is not limited to the Yellow Emperor’s ascent to Heaven at Dinghu; An Qisheng’s longevity, too, was described as lasting “a thousand years.”

Riding the white clouds, he reaches the dwelling place of the Heavenly Emperor.

Commentary: Once Qi has dispersed, there is nowhere it cannot reach.

Explanation: His vital essence rises into the heights and merges obscurely with the Great One, the Dao understood as the source of all things. Riding the clouds and harnessing Qi, he reaches the Heavenly Emperor’s dwelling.

None of the three afflictions can befall him, and his body is always free of calamity. What, then, could bring him disgrace?

Explanation: The “three afflictions” here are wealth and rank, long life, and many children. The sage masters all things and comes and goes freely, roaming at ease amid transformation. In his view, these three afflictions are unreal from the outset. Since the human body is not eternal, what meaning can calamity or disgrace have?

The border warden took his leave. Yao followed after him and said, “Please let me ask…”

Explanation: After finishing what he had to say, the border warden departed. Only then did Yao realize that he should not have pressed him with questions, and he wanted to ask for his guidance.

The border warden said, “Go back. Your doubts have been resolved.”

Explanation: What puzzled him was now clear, so he should hurry back.

When Yao governed the world, Bocheng Zigao was appointed a feudal lord. Later, Yao passed the imperial throne to Shun, and Shun in turn passed the throne to…

Yu Declines the Feudal Lordship, and Bocheng Zigao Returns to the Fields

Commentary: We do not know where Bocheng Zigao came from. He was probably a man of the Dao.

Yu went to visit him and found him plowing in the fields. Yu hurried to the downwind side of him, stood respectfully, and asked, “In the time of Yao, when he governed the realm, you were appointed a feudal lord. Later, Yao handed the realm to Shun, and Shun handed it to me. Yet you gave up your lordship and returned to the fields to farm. I venture to ask: why?”

Commentary: In the time of Yao and Shun, the ruler sat facing south and called himself “the solitary one.” By the Xia dynasty, Bocheng Zigao had withdrawn to the fields to farm. These approaches to public service and withdrawal were entirely different. What principle accounts for the difference?

Bocheng Zigao said, “In the past, when Yao governed the realm, the people worked diligently and turned toward goodness without rewards; they held reverence in their hearts without punishments.”

Commentary: Rewards and punishments are meant to teach people what to strive for and what to fear. Yao, however, governed the realm through Wuwei (non-action), allowing the myriad things to develop according to their own transformations. So the people did good of their own accord without waiting for rewards, and feared wrongdoing without needing punishments to be imposed; they did not dare to act recklessly. This shows how lofty Yao’s De (Virtue/Power) was.

“Now you govern the people with rewards and punishments, yet they remain unkind. De has declined, and punishments have been established; the disorder of later generations began from this point.”

Commentary: Rewards and punishments have become widespread, yet the people remain unkind. Since the highest De has declined, the statutes of punishment have multiplied. Thus the calamities and disorder of later generations began here.

“Sir, please leave now. Do not hold up my farming.” Bocheng Zigao bent over his work, intent on plowing, and did not look back at Yu.

Note: In Yu’s time, three sage kings had governed the realm in succession. The realm was already settled, and De had reached completion. The accomplishments of the sage kings had gradually receded into the past, so the historical records left no account of them, and Confucius had no way to investigate. Thus, although Yu possessed the realm, he took no part in this discussion: he was “as if he had nothing.” Judged by the times, Yu was the most outstanding; judged by their character, only Yao among the three sage kings could be called a sage. By Yu’s time there were no sages left, and so the people of the realm suddenly turned their allegiance to Qi.

Yu occupied the position that was his due with public-spiritedness, and handed the realm over to the people. Neither accepting nor relinquishing the realm was for his own sake. So he did not seek to recover what he had lost, nor refuse what he had gained; coming and going were natural to him. It is therefore no surprise that men who prized integrity and fidelity criticized him, while he was counted among the Three Kings.

Through this story, Zhuangzi suggests that the flaws in Yao’s way of governing were already taking root in his time. They began with Yao and grew into calamity by Yu’s time; it is easy to imagine how matters became worse in later generations, when there were no sages at all. Through the image of Bocheng Zigao withdrawing from public life and refusing to govern the world, Zhuangzi conveys the ideal of casting aside sage wisdom and returning to undivided wholeness, forgetting cleverness and intellectual contrivance, and abiding in stillness and clarity. Yet these claims may not rest on any firm evidence. Zhuangzi’s words here…

One cannot interrogate on the basis of a single clue, nor use the deeds of the Yellow Emperor to erase the accomplishments of Yao and Shun. Does this mean that we should honor Yao while looking down on Yu? We should therefore set aside the particular people and eras to which these deeds belong, and record instead the idea they convey: “cast off the name of sage and lay aside cleverness.”

Commentary: What does “he” mean? It means to abolish or lay aside. “Yi-yi” describes the manner of plowing. Bocheng Zigao said to Yu, “Yu, why haven’t you left yet? Don’t get in the way of my farming.” He then kept plowing with all his strength and did not look back. The three sage kings—Yao, Shun, and Yu—succeeded one another, and were originally equal in worth. It was only that the age changed from simple and honest to degenerate, so their ways of acting differed. Guo Xiang’s commentary says, “The trouble began with Yao; by Yu’s time, it had grown into a calamity.” This is meant to show that having a sage govern is worse than having no sage, and acting is worse than Wuwei (non-action). Thus, the text praises the deeds of more remote people of antiquity in order to explain the principle of “casting off sages and abandoning cleverness.”

In the Great Beginning there was nonbeing; there was neither being nor name.

Commentary: Without particular things, there is nothing to name.

Commentary: “Great Beginning” means the very first beginning. When Qi first stirred into motion, it was called the Great Beginning. Here, it is described as vast and expansive, the root and origin of all things, and therefore called the Great Beginning. At that time there was only “nonbeing,” not yet “being.” Since “being” had not yet appeared, what could a name attach to? Hence the phrase “there was neither being nor name.”

From the One’s beginning, there was the One, but it had not yet taken form.

Commentary: The One is the initial state of being, so subtle and refined that it had not yet taken the form of any particular thing. The beginning of the One comes from the Supreme One; it does not arise from “nonbeing.” Why, then, does Zhuangzi often speak of “nonbeing” as the beginning? Because at the beginning, things had not yet come into being, yet life arose naturally. The emergence of life is no easy matter, but it depends neither on “nonbeing” nor on cleverness: suddenly, it comes into being of itself. Once life has arisen naturally, why deliberately manage it and thereby lose its natural growth?

Commentary: The One must be the Dao. At this point, although the names “nonbeing” and “One” exist, the myriad things do not yet have their own distinct forms. From this, the myriad things come into being; this is called De (Virtue/Power).

Commentary: “Nonbeing” itself cannot produce the myriad things. To say that the myriad things come into being is to show that each arises naturally in its own way. Letting them follow their nature may be called De.

Commentary: De means “to attain”: each thing attains its proper place. The myriad things come into being without depending outwardly on anything else or being arranged inwardly by their own will. They rely neither on “nonbeing” nor on “being”; they are caused neither deliberately by themselves nor imposed by external things. Since no one knows why they arise as they do, this is called De.

What has not yet taken form has its own allotted share; existing naturally and without interruption is called life.

Commentary: Although things have not yet taken on distinct physical forms, each has already received its own allotted share. To exist in this natural way, without interruption, is called “life.” (The original text ends here.)

The length or brevity of life, and whether it is substantial or slight, all take shape through change, without any interval. This is therefore called “life.”

Stillness and movement act upon one another, and all things arise from this. When all things take on the patterns of life, this is called “form.”

Commentary: To remain is to be still. Yang Qi moves, while Yin Qi is still. The two Qi blend, rise, and descend, spreading out to form the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. All things are born from this process, each taking shape and possessing the patterns of life. This is called “form.”

The body gives the spirit a place to dwell, and each has its own distinguishing standards. This is called “nature.”

Note: The names De, form, nature, and life are all established in accordance with change. In terms of what they are in themselves, they are actually one and the same.

Commentary: To receive a body that gives the spirit a place to dwell and be preserved is called “form.” Bodies differ in beauty and ugliness, and spirits in foolishness and wisdom. Beyond this, the standards suited to each also differ. Once a person’s innate endowment has been fixed, it does not change; this is called “nature.”

By cultivating one’s nature, one can return to De. When De reaches its utmost, one becomes the same as things were at their beginning.

Note: One acts without deliberate effort from beginning to end, and things are naturally attained.

Commentary: By following the nature one has received, one returns to the De present at the beginning of life. When De reaches this state, it is the same as the Great Beginning.

Being the same as the Great Beginning, the mind becomes empty. When the mind is empty, its scope becomes vast.

Note: If one cannot become the same as the Great Beginning and instead acts deliberately midway along the Way, something will remain in the mind. When the mind holds something, its capacity to embrace all things becomes smaller.

Commentary: Being the same as the Great Beginning, the mind becomes empty, clear, and open. Once the mind is empty, it can embrace things broadly.

It accords with the cries of birds.

Note: The mind does not cling to speech, yet words arise naturally, like a bird calling of its own accord.

Commentary: The beak is a bird’s mouth. When the mind is empty, one’s conduct also merges with all things, and speech is like the cry of a bird. A bird’s cry makes no deliberate distinction between right and wrong. How, then, could a sage’s words carry feelings of aversion or affection?

When one’s speech accords with the cries of birds, one accords with Heaven and Earth.

Note: Heaven and Earth, too, have no intention, yet they move naturally.

Commentary: When speech accords with the cries of birds, one’s De also accords with Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth have no intention, yet naturally cover and sustain all things. The sage has no intention, yet speaks naturally, and so can accord with Heaven and Earth.

This accord is seamless and without trace, seeming foolish, as if dim-witted.

Note: Through “sitting in forgetfulness”—a state of cultivation in which the self and distinctions are forgotten—the sage naturally accords with the Dao. This accord is not achieved through observation or planning.

Commentary: Min means “to accord.” The sage’s inner nature is in harmony with ultimate principle, while outwardly they respond to living beings. Their original nature and their conduct are both entirely in accord, so it is said that they “accord seamlessly.” They blend with ordinary society and live among all things, appearing foolish or dim-witted. Another interpretation is that, since speech is like the cries of birds and accords with Heaven and Earth, this can also be described as an accord that is seamless and without trace.

This is called “Mysterious De,” which accords with the Great Dao.

Note: De is profound and mysterious, and the realm with which it accords is vast.

[Commentary] The passage as a whole praises people whose virtue is so deep and mysterious that they can accord with the Great Beginning—the primal state before Heaven and Earth were divided—and bring all under Heaven into great harmony.

Confucius asked Lao Dan, “If someone governs through the Dao and insists that others imitate him, believing that whatever he approves of they should approve of, and whatever he considers right they should consider right, is that the right way to act?”

[Note] To force one’s views on others—to call feasible what one considers infeasible, and right what one considers wrong—is to distort their inborn nature and disposition.

[Commentary] Confucius often sought instruction from his teacher Lao Dan by asking general questions, without referring to any particular matter. Here the question concerns someone who enforces policies and instructs the people by demanding that they act according to his example. This causes all things to lose their own nature. What one person considers feasible may not seem feasible to another; what one considers right may not seem right to another. Conversely, one may not agree with what others consider feasible or right.

A disputant said, “The argument that the hard and the white are distinct is as plain as something suspended high in the sky.”

[Note] This means that the argument is elevated and conspicuous, easy to see.

[Commentary] “Hard and white” refers to the doctrine advanced by Gongsun Long, which the followers of Kong Chuan upheld. In their time, they stood unrivaled in the world, seemingly without anyone able to defeat them. The disputant now claims to be able to distinguish the argument about the hard and the white clearly, with forceful and orderly reasoning, like the sun and moon suspended high between Heaven and Earth. Guo Xiang’s commentary therefore says, “This means that the argument is elevated and conspicuous, easy to see.”

“Can someone like this be called a sage?”

[Commentary] This follows from the earlier question: can such a person be considered a sage?

Lao Dan said, “Such people merely struggle with one another over right and wrong, bound by their clever techniques. They exhaust their bodies and leave their minds fearful and unsettled.”

[Commentary] “Each other” means mutually. Lao Dan is saying that they use disputes over right and wrong to contend with one another and change one another’s views. They bind themselves through these techniques, leaving their bodies exhausted and their minds fearful and uneasy. This answers the earlier question. Some editions write “branches” instead of “techniques”: the disputes over right and wrong branch out like leaves, forming rival schools that contend with one another.

A dog that hunts foxes grows miserable; a monkey loses its agility when it is taken from the mountains and forests.

[Note] This means that each has lost its original state.

[Commentary] “Monkey” here means macaque. A dog that hunts foxes is often restrained by a neck rope and cannot move freely, so it grows miserable. A macaque lives naturally in the mountains and forests, where it moves freely and nimbly. Once taken away, it loses its proper habitat, even if it remains skilled at climbing, grasping, and leaping. In some editions, “fox” is written as “cat”; here it refers to the bamboo rat.

Confucius said, “I will tell you of a principle that you cannot hear or speak: there are many things with heads and feet, yet without minds or ears.”

[Note] “Head and feet” means beginning and end. “Without minds or ears” means that the myriad things follow natural change, without needing to apply the mind deliberately or cling to the act of hearing and distinguishing.

[Commentary] “You” and “your” both mean “you.” “Head and feet” means beginning and end. Once a principle exceeds what words and debate can express… [The original passage ends here unfinished.]

You cannot hear these words with understanding, nor grasp them through thought alone; what the ears hear is only sound.

“Multitude” refers to the myriad things. The myriad things cannot be fully expressed in words, nor can they be entirely understood by thought alone. Why go on exaggerating the abilities of apes and macaques, as the ancients called them, and making such a show of words hung high and far away? Is it not excessive for all things now to imitate themselves?

All things that have form, and all things that exist without form or shape, ultimately offer nothing to which one can cling.

Note: Things with form change easily and cannot endure forever alongside things without form or shape. Therefore, those skilled in governing and observing the Dao do not hold fast to themselves through old preconceptions; they simply respond to ceaseless change.

Commentary: What has form is the body; what has no form is the mind. You say that mind and body both exist, but when I observe them through reason, I see only emptiness. Their movement and stillness, life and death, decline and flourishing are not brought about by human design.

Note: Movement and stillness, life and death, prosperity and decline, abandonment and flourishing are never constant. They occur naturally, and no force deliberately brings them about. So let things follow their natural course, and each thing will find its proper place.

Commentary: In the world there is movement and stillness; among the myriad things there is life and death; and affairs flourish or fall into disuse. These six changes are all part of the natural order, and people do not know why they happen as they do. How could they be brought about by human feelings, thoughts, or imitation? Simply let things follow their natural course and respond to change, and each thing will return to its proper place.

The way to govern lies in responding to things, not in a ruler’s arbitrary actions.

Commentary: Each person acts according to their own nature, and their innate capacities appear of themselves. This is not because a ruler has taught them to act that way. To forget external things and forget the Way of Heaven is what is called “forgetting oneself.”

Note: When Heaven and external things are both forgotten, one has forgotten more than oneself. What else, then, is there to cling to?

Commentary: It is not only the affairs of daily life that are empty; the principles of Heaven are not truly substantial either. Only by forgetting both affairs and principles can one reach a state of clinging neither to existence nor to nonexistence.

One who can forget oneself is said to “enter into Heaven”—to merge with the natural Way.

Note: The hardest thing for people to forget is themselves. If even oneself is forgotten, what could one still cling to or know? This is freedom from distinctions and deliberate knowing, and a merging with nature.

Commentary: “Enter” means to unite. Nothing in the world is harder to forget than oneself. If one can forget even oneself, what in the world is worth keeping or clinging to? Only by forgetting both things and self can one merge with the natural Way.

Jiang Jianmian went to see Jiche and said, “The Lord of Lu told me, ‘Please accept my instruction.’”

“I have already passed your command on to Ji Che, though I do not yet know whether he agrees. Please allow me to relay his words to you.”

Commentary: “Jian” means to present or relay. Jiang asked a man surnamed Ji, whose given name was Che. The backgrounds of these two worthies can no longer be established. The Lord of Lu was the Marquis of Lu, a descendant of Boqin, though it is impossible to determine which ruler of Lu he was. When Meng met the Lord of Lu, the ruler asked him to explain the Way of governing a state. Unable to refuse, Meng spoke as he had been asked. He said, “I worry that it would be inappropriate to speak plainly about how to govern a state. So I will venture to pass on what I have heard. You might try putting it into practice; if it proves unsuitable, please correct me.”

I said to the Lord of Lu, “If a ruler truly acts with reverence and frugality, and appoints people who are fair and loyal, without favoring anyone, who among the people would not live in harmony?”

Commentary: “Ji” is read as “ji,” meaning to gather in harmony. “A” means to show favoritism or give someone special treatment. “To govern a state, a ruler must first embody reverence and frugality, remaining upright and plain in conduct. Then he should appoint fair, loyal, and honest people to govern the people alongside him. In this way, the borders will be secure, the country will be at peace, and the people will live and work in contentment. Who would not live in harmony?”

Ji Che bent forward and gave a faint laugh. “Sir, if these words are meant to describe the virtue of an emperor, they are like a praying mantis raising its forelegs to stop a cart wheel. They could never bear such a great responsibility.”

Note: “Truly acting with reverence and frugality” and “appointing people who are fair and loyal” do not mean letting go of the deliberate pursuit of reverence, frugality, and loyalty. Thus, even without favoritism, such conduct is still inadequate to deal with affectation and deceit.

Commentary: “Ju ju” describes bending forward with a laugh. Acting with reverence and frugality and appointing fair and loyal people are still deliberate performances; they do not involve forgetting clever contrivance and following things as they naturally unfold. To use such words to describe an emperor’s virtue is like a praying mantis raising its forelegs against a cart wheel: it is a small force confronting something immense, and plainly cannot meet the task.

“Besides, acting this way puts you in a dangerous position, like a viewing tower…”

Note: This means placing yourself high up and in full view, like a viewing tower, where you are easy for others to see.

Commentary: If fairness, frugality, and loyalty do not arise from letting go of clever contrivance and following things as they naturally unfold, they will only make a person stand out and display himself to the crowd. A high position invites a fall. Like a towering viewing platform, it attracts people’s gaze but is perilous and difficult to maintain for long.

“Many things will come flocking…”

Note: This will keep the myriad things from resting in their own nature. Each will put on an act and strive to show itself as more than it is.

Commentary: A viewing tower rises high, and everyone vies to look at it. People compete to show themselves off, and the myriad things, too, compete to gather around…

Everyone is eager to rise on tiptoe and leave their footprints, hoping to make themselves famous. As a result, few are content with their proper place, and many rush about everywhere.

After hearing this, Jiang Lümian said in surprise, “I listened to what you just said, sir, but I am completely at a loss.”

“Xi xi” describes a startled expression; “mang” means being unable to see clearly, bewildered and ignorant. When he first heard these profound remarks, he was taken aback. He thought them over carefully but still could not grasp their meaning, and so was left bewildered and unsure what to do.

“Even so, I still hope you will say a few words, sir, to serve as a guiding principle for educating the world.”

Here, “feng” means education. Jiang Lümian felt that the reasoning he had presented earlier was quite unsuitable, and so hoped the Master would offer a few words as a rule for people to follow.

Ji Che said, “When a great sage governs the world, he follows the rises and falls of the people’s feelings, allowing education to take shape of itself and customs to change naturally. He removes from people every impulse to harm others and lets each person’s distinctive aspirations develop. Then people act as though following their nature spontaneously, without knowing how any of it came about.”

A commentator explains: Each person’s aspirations and interests differ, and people cannot simply imitate one another. The sage guides them by following the natural fluctuations of their hearts. Though this may seem to involve stirring things up, it is not forced action. He puts education into practice by following changes in people’s circumstances. Though this may seem to bring about change, it is not deliberate coercion. In this way, the impulse to harm others disappears of itself, each person’s aspirations develop of themselves, and education takes shape and customs change without leaving any obvious trace. People live according to their nature and act on their own, without knowing why; they simply feel that everything happens naturally. “Ju” means “all” or “every.”

The subcommentary explains: When the sage governs the world, he follows the nature of all beings, using the natural fluctuations of the people’s hearts to establish laws and following changes in their circumstances to shape education. Education is thus established without any obvious trace, and customs change without people noticing. The sage removes every impulse to harm others and encourages people to cultivate their distinctive aspirations, free from the influence of external things. Acting according to their nature, people do not know why they act as they do. “Ju” means “all” or “every.”

“If that is truly so, should we still hold the ways in which Yao and Shun educated the people in special esteem and revere them as elder brothers?”

A commentator says: Here, “ming xing” conveys the sense of being supremely exalted. The point is that there is no need to give Yao and Shun special honor or raise them to the status of elder brothers.

The subcommentary explains: If the people can be educated in the way described above, so that governance returns to the simplicity of ancient times and all things each attain their own nature, why revere only Yao and Shun and honor them as elder brothers? The point is that the custom of yielding to others and following nature is no less worthy than the ways of Tang Yao and Yu Shun.

“To be in accord with Dao and De, the mind should be at rest.”

A commentator says: “Ju” means that the mind is settled and does not chase after things outside itself. If the mind cannot rest, one’s De cannot be in accord with Dao.

The subcommentary says: “Ju” means settled. If the mind races outward, it comes into contact with external things… The original text ends here unfinished.

When the mind is empty, quiet, and at peace, the many and varied realms of things return to oneness. Though these realms appear different, what matters is whether a person’s mind is still or in turmoil. So anyone who hopes to possess the lofty virtue of Yao and Shun must first bring their own mind to rest.

Zigong traveled south through Chu. On his return to Jin, he passed the southern bank of the Han River and saw an old man tending his vegetable garden. The man had dug a channel to the well. He carried a water jar down into the well to draw water, then carried it back out to irrigate the garden. He worked so hard he was panting, yet accomplished little.

The commentary explains that “south bank” means the southern side of a body of water; a place where vegetables are grown is called a garden, and a plot of farmland divided into sections is called a bed. “Tunnel” refers to a passage dug into the ground; “laboriously” describes strenuous effort; and “old man” is a respectful form of address for an elderly person. Zigong was traveling south through the region of Jing and Chu when he encountered the old man on the southern bank of the Han River. The text uses their exchange to show how attachment to clever contrivances can lead people away from the natural state of undifferentiated simplicity.

Zigong said, “I have a device that can irrigate a hundred garden beds in a day. It takes little effort and achieves a great deal. Would you like to try it?”

The commentary explains that “device” means an implement. Seeing that the old man was putting in great effort for little result, Zigong introduced the device in the hope that he could accomplish more with less work. He offered his advice without first knowing whether the old man would accept it.

The gardener looked up at him and said, “How does it work?”

The commentary explains that “how” here asks for the specific method.

Zigong said, “Shape a piece of wood into a lever, heavier at the rear and lighter at the front. Then you can raise water, and it will pour out as swiftly as boiling water surging up. This device is called a gao (a counterweighted lever for drawing water).”

The commentary explains that “mechanism” refers to the device’s moving parts. Drawing water with a lever is like pumping it up; it works quickly, as if boiling water were surging forth. The text’s phrase “light at the front and heavy at the rear” refers to the counterweighted lever still used today.

The gardener’s expression darkened, then he smiled and said, “I have heard my teacher say that when people have mechanical devices, they also come to rely on machinery to get things done. Once such tasks arise, clever calculation follows. When cleverness settles in the heart, the natural simplicity and clarity of one’s nature can no longer remain whole. When one’s nature is no longer whole, the spirit cannot be at peace. A person whose spirit is unsettled cannot be sustained by the Dao. It is not that I do not know about this device; I consider it shameful, and so I do not use it.”

The note says that using devices in response to present needs is a state of complete sufficiency. But this man wants to cultivate the virtue of completeness and clings single-mindedly to old ways, without grasping their essential meaning.

The commentary explains that owning mechanical devices leads to tasks that rely on ingenuity; such tasks give rise to a calculating, adaptive mind. When this calculating mind takes hold in the heart, one’s pure, unadorned nature can no longer be fully realized. The original text continues beyond this point.

Without a foundation in self-cultivation, a person’s spirit rises and falls with changing circumstances, appearing and disappearing without constancy. When the mind and spirit are unsettled, they cannot bear the Great Dao. So Zigong felt ashamed and did not respond. He had not yet understood true self-cultivation, and still clung to fixed ideas.

Zigong lowered his head in shame and did not answer.

Commentary: “Ashamed” describes his embarrassment. Zigong knew that what he had just said would not hold up, and did not know how to reply.

After a while, a man tending his vegetables asked, “What are you doing here?”

Note: “After a while” means some time had passed; “what” is the question word. The gardener was asking whose follower Zigong was and what he studied.

Zigong replied, “I am a disciple of Kong Qiu.”

Commentary: That is, he was a student of Confucius.

The gardener said, “Aren’t you the man who has read widely and learned much, hoping to make yourself comparable to a sage; who tries to outdo others through flattery and ingratiation; and who plays the zither and sings alone, sighing and lamenting, to win fame throughout the world?”

Commentary: “Ingratiating” means flattering others to curry favor. The gardener was saying that Zigong had learned much and hoped to become like a sage, yet relied on pleasing others to surpass them. He played the zither and sang alone, raising and lowering his voice in sorrowful sighs, using the name of a sage to gain renown as he traveled among the states and went about the world.

“You should forget your own spirit and Qi, and free your mind, body, and form from all constraints. Only then might you draw near to the Great Dao.”

Note: If you cannot forget your attachments or let go of your constraints around the body and self, there is no hope of drawing near to the Great Dao.

Commentary: “Draw near” means to approach. Only by forgetting your attachment to spirit and Qi, and letting go of constraints on the body, can you free mind and body from their burdens and perhaps draw near to the Great Dao.

“You cannot even put yourself in order, so how could you find time to put the world in order? Go away, and don’t get in the way of my work.”

Commentary: “You” is the form of address here, and “get in the way” means to delay or hinder. When all things settle themselves, the world naturally comes into order. Trying to govern all things by one’s own effort instead brings great disorder. Someone like Zigong, whose own self-cultivation is inadequate, should not seek a post governing the world. He should leave at once and stop interfering with the gardener’s work.

Zigong’s face changed with shame, and he looked dazed and ill at ease. He had walked thirty li before he gradually returned to normal.

Commentary: “Abashed” describes his shame; “dazed” describes someone bewildered and at a loss. After being rebuked, Zigong’s expression changed, and it took him thirty li to regain his composure.

His disciples asked, “What sort of person was that man? Why did you change color when you saw him, and remain unable to return to your usual state for the whole day?”

Commentary: “Return” means to recover. Zigong’s disciples addressed him as their teacher. Wondering what had happened, they asked what skill the man practiced that could leave their teacher so shaken after meeting him, unable to recover even by the end of the day.

“At first, I thought Confucius was the only person in the world who understood these principles,” Ziqong said. “I never imagined there could be someone like you.”

Note: “That person” here refers to Confucius.

Commentary: In the past, I traveled the world to study, believing that Confucius was the only such person. Now that I have met this old man, I realize his moral insight reaches even further. I feel ashamed, then, and cannot presume that I am right. I still do not understand what is true and what is false, yet I do believe this old man to be wiser than Confucius.

“I once heard my teacher say: In carrying out a task, one should choose the right moment; one’s work should be brought to completion. To achieve a great result with little effort—this is the way of the sage.”

Note: The way of the sage means following the people’s natural inclinations.

Commentary: A task is “appropriate” when it is done at the right moment; work is “complete” when it reaches its end. Achieving much with little effort is precisely what makes the timing right and brings the task to completion. Ziqong is repeating what he heard in the past, believing that this is the way of the sage.

But this is not how it is. Those who hold to the Dao have complete De. Those whose De is complete preserve their bodies; those who preserve their bodies keep their spirits undivided; and those whose spirits are undivided accord with the way of the sage. They dwell among people and live alongside them, yet do not know where they are going. Their realm is deep and seamless, their De simple and whole; they do not set store by profit or cleverness.

Note: This is the way of the sage kings, not the kind of way ordinary people speak of. Ziqong heard of a method based on deliberate practice and was convinced by it, without knowing that those who are truly simple and practice Wuwei also live among ordinary people.

Commentary: What this old man is asking me about now is not that approach. Those who hold to the Dao suffer no loss in their De. Those whose De is complete are not harmed in body; those who preserve their bodies keep their spirits undivided. Such people dwell among human beings and live alongside all things, yet do not know where they are going. They are profound and unfathomable, gentle in conduct, and complete in their virtue and De. Their state of mind cannot be explained in terms of profit or cleverness. This is the way of the sage, not a method acquired through deliberate practice. Ziqong has not understood this, which is why he spoke so rashly.

As for that kind of person, he will not act if something goes against his purpose, or if it goes against his heart. Even if everyone in the world praises him, he remains proudly unmoved if their praise does not accord with what he takes to be right. Even if everyone condemns him, he remains calmly untouched if their condemnation does not accord with what he takes to be right. The praise or blame of the world can neither add to nor diminish him. Only such a person can be called complete in De. I am speaking of someone like this, yet he regards me as someone swayed by the world and affected by outside influences.

Note: This kind of person is like Song Rongzi and still cannot be called complete in De. Ziqong has been taken in by such a person, just as Liezi was once captivated by Jixian.

The commentary says, “An arrogant, unrestrained manner” probably refers to someone who acts without deliberate affectation. The elder is simple in mind, avoids cunning, has few desires, and does not deliberately set out to accomplish anything. Even when everyone praises him and commends his virtue, he knows such praise is of no benefit and never takes it to heart. Even when everyone disparages him and damages his reputation, he understands that this causes no harm and pays it no heed. Neither praise nor blame can unsettle him; he may be called a person of complete virtue.

Water is naturally clear and calm, but when wind strikes it, waves arise. My mind and spirit are unsettled, like ripples spreading across the water’s surface, so I call myself “a person of wind and waves.”

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: This person is like Song Rongzi, and still cannot be considered to have complete virtue. Zigong, a disciple of Confucius, was once taken in by someone like him, just as Liezi, a Daoist figure, was once captivated by the skills of Jixian, a man skilled in physiognomy.

Zigong traveled from the state of Lu to Chu. When he returned to Lu, he told Confucius about what had happened. Confucius said, “That man merely pretends to practice the arts of Hundun.”

The commentary says: He turns away from the present and longs for antiquity, taking pride in being at odds with ordinary ways. From this, we can tell that he is not truly Hundun.

The commentary says: “Hundun” means having no mind of discrimination. He turns away from the present and longs for antiquity, so he is not truly Hundun.

“He knows one side, but not the other.” The commentary says: He knows only how to imitate the ancients and cling to a simple life, like watering plants, but does not understand how to respond to the times and adapt to things as they change. The subcommentary says: “Knows one side” means that he clings to the ancient way and refuses to change. “Does not know the other” means that he cannot respond to the present or adapt as circumstances require.

“He cultivates his inner self, but not his outward conduct.” The commentary says: A truly Hundun-like person does not deliberately cultivate either the inner or the outer. Why would he cultivate only his inner self? The subcommentary says: Clinging to the Dao and preserving simplicity is cultivation of the inner self; failing to adapt as circumstances change is a failure to cultivate the outer.

“His understanding is clear, and he returns to simplicity; through Wuwei (non-action) and detachment, he returns to what is plain. He realizes his original nature and preserves his spirit. Living among ordinary people, would you really be surprised?”

The commentary says: This is what it means to be truly Hundun. He goes along with the world without losing himself; even among ordinary people, he leaves no deliberate traces. Why should you be surprised?

The subcommentary says: His understanding is clear, and he grasps the root of simplicity; through Wuwei and detachment, he returns to the source of what is plain. He realizes his true nature and preserves his pure, harmonious spirit as he lives in the troubled world. Such a person lives among rivers and seas, mountains and forests, and all things, without frightening birds or beasts. Why, then, should people be surprised? The words “would you really be surprised?” show precisely that he should not be a source of surprise.

“How could you possibly understand the Daoist arts of Hundun, the Primordial Chaos—symbolizing a state in which all things are undivided, without intention or awareness?”

Note: There, things are themselves; here, things are themselves. Hundun is mysterious and indistinguishable from the myriad things. Who could know it? What people know is often no more than the signs it reveals.

Commentary: Hundun is without intention, its subtlety beyond the reach of cleverness and calculation. Even if the sages of that time had understood the Great Dao, how could they have known it? It appears and disappears, indistinct and elusive, profound and mysterious. Thus it lies beyond the grasp of feelings and thought.

Chunmang traveled east toward the Great Hollow—the sea—and met Yuanfeng on the eastern shore.

Commentary: “Chun” means simple and sincere. “Yuan” means a light breeze, though some take it to mean a mighty wind that rises in a whirlwind. “Shore” means the water’s edge, and the Great Hollow is the sea. Chunmang and Yuanfeng are both figures in a fable. Zhuangzi uses them to suggest that they understood the Great Dao, imagining host and guest meeting by the sea.

Yuanfeng said, “Where are you going?”

Commentary: “Where” means to what place, and “going” means setting out for. Yuanfeng asks Chunmang where he intends to travel.

Chunmang said, “I am going to the Great Hollow.”

Commentary: That is, he is going to the Eastern Sea.

Yuanfeng said, “What are you going there for?”

Commentary: He asks again what Chunmang hopes to find there.

Chunmang said, “A place like the Great Hollow is never filled, though a hundred rivers flow into it, and never runs dry, though water is drawn from it by the ladle. I am going there to wander.”

Commentary: The sea is vast and deep, beyond measure. A hundred rivers empty into it, yet it does not overflow; the Tail Drain—the legendary outlet through which the sea’s waters flow away—continually carries off its waters, yet the sea does not run dry. The sea here is a metaphor for the highest principle, and the meaning is the same. So although Chunmang says he is going to the sea, what he really means is that his mind and spirit will wander through the Great Dao.

Yuanfeng said, “Sir, do you not care about the common people? I would like to hear how the sages govern the world.”

Commentary: Of the Five Phases, only human beings have eyes that grow horizontally, so they are called “the people with horizontal eyes.” Chunmang traveled east and came to the shore, where he gazed at the sea’s depth and boundlessness. Sensing his state of mind, Yuanfeng asked: “Sir, do you not care about the people? I hope to hear how the sages teach and govern the world.”

Chunmang said, “The sages govern by appointing officials and issuing decrees appropriately, and by selecting and recommending capable people without overlooking their abilities.”

Commentary: They establish offices and put decrees into effect appropriately, and promote and recommend people without failing to recognize their talents. When these principles are understood, the world can be at peace and social order can be maintained. This is how the sages govern the world.

“They fully understand people’s circumstances and affairs, then follow their nature in carrying things out.”

Note: In all things, follow what is inherent in them and let them unfold naturally.

Commentary: Affairs in the world often differ from one another, so the measures taken in governing must also vary with the times. The age itself may be marked by simplicity or by decline. Therefore, those who govern the world should first follow the way things are. They must first understand the actual circumstances of things…

This scripture expounds the Daoist ideal of sagely governance and the cultivated state of virtuous individuals (De ren).

Regarding sagely governance, the key lies in following the natural tendencies of all things without imposing interference. The sage ruler need only gesture lightly, and the people will spontaneously gather, with subjects from all directions coming to pay homage. This method of governance succeeds because it fully adheres to the principle of "governing through non-action" (Wuwei), allowing all beings to develop according to their own patterns. The text describes three levels of governance: the highest is sagely rule, followed by virtuous rule, and then spiritual rule.

Concerning the cultivated state of virtuous individuals, these De ren dwell without distracting thoughts and act without calculation, completely following what is natural. Their minds maintain no distinctions between right and wrong, good and evil, taking the benefit of all under heaven as their benefit, and the peace of all people as their peace. They bestow blessings upon the people without self-awareness, as innocent as an infant separated from its mother, and as detached as a lost traveler. Their material abundance seems to come from nowhere, their nourishment fulfilled without concern for its source—this state of natural simplicity constitutes the true demeanor of virtuous individuals.

The commentary particularly emphasizes that virtuous individuals achieve this state through complete attunement to the Dao (Dao). With minds empty and luminous, they transcend both self and objects. Their beneficence to the world is not deliberate but flows naturally, thus realizing the ideal state where "all within the four seas share in benefit" and "the whole world finds common peace."

Note: De (Virtue/Power) is the trace left behind by a spirit-person—one who has attained the Dao and transcended ordinary people—so it is called “bearing.”

Commentary: Because they have few desires and know contentment, they have more than enough resources for their needs. Because they do not crave delicacies, they eat only to satisfy the body’s needs. Because they seek nothing beyond what life and nature already provide, they do not investigate where these come from. This sums up the preceding ideas, and so it is called “the bearing of a person of De.”

Question: I would like to hear what a spirit-person is like.

Note: This is a wish to know the source of the traces left by a person of De.

Commentary: De is simply the trace left behind by a spirit-person. What is being asked now is the source of why the spirit-person is as they are.

Answer: The highest spirit-person rides upon light and dissolves even their own form.

Note: To ride upon light means to have no light left to cling to.

Commentary: “Ride” means to make use of; “light” refers to wisdom. The highest spirit-person uses wisdom to illuminate all things. Even when the light of wisdom shines as brightly as the sun and moon, they can dissolve it after it has illuminated all things. They discard the body and set aside keen hearing, so that neither mind nor form clings to anything. Hence the phrase “dissolves even their own form.”

This is called “Illumination Vast and Open.”

Note: With no attachment to self, they let all things follow their own course. Their mind is empty and free of concerns; this is not darkness or obstruction.

Commentary: Wisdom reaches throughout all things, shining more brightly than the sun, moon, and stars, with no dark place beyond its reach. Is this not vast and far-reaching?

When one exhausts the natural course of nature and life, and fully understands the principles of feeling and reason, one can share the joy of Heaven and Earth, and all affairs dissolve.

Note: When the principles of feeling and reason are exhausted and nature and life reach their natural course, one shares the joy of Heaven and Earth. If affairs do not hinder joy, it is as though there were no affairs.

Commentary: One investigates the root of nature and life and fully understands the principles of arising and transformation. Though dwelling between Heaven and Earth, one remains free and joyful. Once one understands that all things and the self are illusory, all affairs dissolve.

When all things return to their original state, this is called “Mingling in the Dark.”

Note: When the principles of feeling and reason return to their original state, they merge into obscurity and leave no trace.

Commentary: One forgets the deliberate act of illumination yet still sees clearly; this clarity is as brilliant as the sun, moon, and stars. One forgets attachment to life yet still follows its course; in this way, one can share the joy of Heaven and Earth. Thus, one sees all things return to their source and every form of life return to its nature and life. In the end, one joins with the undivided state of primordial chaos and, in quiet obscurity, becomes one with the Dao.

Men Wugui and Chizhang Manji watched the army of King Wu.

Commentary: Men and Chizhang are surnames; Wugui and Manji are given names. “Army” refers to the troops. When King Wu campaigned against Zhou, his troops crossed the Meng Ford, and these two watched together.

Chizhang Manji said, “Were they not inferior to the Youyu clan—that is, Shun? That is why they met with this calamity.”

Commentary: “Meet with” means to encounter. Shun governed the realm by yielding the throne, while King Wu used arms to rescue the age. The two methods differ greatly in their merits. From this perspective, they can be compared, with each falling short in some respect. Moreover, weapons are inauspicious things; that is why they met with the calamity of slaughter.

Men Wugui said, “If the world is already at peace, why must the Yu clan govern it? Or did the world fall into disorder first, and only then did he govern it?”

The commentary says: Both sages came forward to govern because the world was in turmoil. Whether they governed through abdication or by force depended only on the circumstances of the time; neither way was superior or inferior to the other.

The explanatory gloss says: “Even” means level or at peace. If the world were peaceful and all things followed their proper course, why would Yu Shun need to trouble himself with establishing laws and governing it? He was called to govern because Yao was growing old and his virtue was declining. Yao therefore yielded the imperial throne to Chonghua—that is, Yu Shun—so he could continue to bring order to the world.

Chizhang Manji said, “Peace throughout the world is everyone’s shared wish. Why, then, make plans to have the Yu clan govern it?”

The commentary says: With peace throughout the world, everyone’s wish has already been fulfilled. Why, then, assess the Yu clan’s virtue and appoint him ruler? Xu Wugui’s argument is right.

The explanatory gloss says: If the world is settled and everyone’s wishes have been fulfilled, why assess the Yu clan’s virtue and appoint him ruler? This agrees with Chizhang Manji’s understanding of Wugui’s words and finds his reasoning sound.

Only when the world develops sores and illness does it seek medicine from the Yu clan.

The commentary says: The people of the world were all afflicted by the “sores” of turmoil, and so they needed the Yu clan to govern them.

The explanatory gloss says: “Sore” refers to a wound on the head. A person seeks a doctor only when a sore appears on the body; likewise, a sage is needed to govern only when society is in disorder. Without illness, there is no need for a doctor; when the world is not in turmoil, there is no need for a sage.

Only the bald wear wigs, and only the sick seek doctors.

The explanatory gloss says: Those with thick, cloudlike hair have no need of wigs; when the body is free of illness, what use is a doctor? From this we can see that when the world is at peace, there is no need to burden a great sage. These two lines sum up the preceding examples.

A filial son carries medicine to treat his loving father, looking anxious and worn; the sage regards this as a source of shame.

The commentary says: This shows that governing the world is not done to gain glory.

The explanatory gloss says: “Carry” means to hold, “treat” means to heal, and “anxious” describes a worn and haggard appearance. A filial son does not boast of his achievements when treating his loving father. How, then, could a sage boast of rescuing the world from calamity and disorder as a source of glory? Such work is done only because circumstances leave no choice, and the sage feels ashamed of it.

In the age of utmost virtue, people did not exalt the worthy and capable.

The commentary says: Worthy people naturally occupied fitting positions; they were not specially elevated above others.

The explanatory gloss says: People of little ability and people of great ability alike accepted their proper place. They were not ranked by exalting the worthy.

Nor did people deliberately appoint those with particular abilities.

The commentary says: Those with abilities naturally put their strengths to use; others did not specially assign them tasks.

The explanatory gloss says: People were content with their own nature. They did not praise one another or compete with one another. The world was not governed by exalting the worthy and appointing the capable.

Those in positions above others were like the tips of tree branches.

The commentary says: Though situated above all things, they did not regard themselves as superior.

Although the ruler stands above the people, he remains quiet and tranquil, humble and selfless, like the branches of a tall tree, paying no heed to wealth, rank, or fame. The people, meanwhile, are like wild deer: free and unrestrained, content in their own way.

When those above govern through Wuwei (non-action), the people, too, remain simple and natural, like wild deer, unconstrained by the ruler’s rites and laws. Their hearts are upright, but they do not know to call this “righteousness.” They care for one another, but do not know to call this “benevolence.”

They act sincerely and honestly, but do not know to call this “loyalty.” Their conduct accords with what is reasonable, but they do not know to call this “trustworthiness.” They do these things by following their nature, spontaneously and naturally, not because they understand names or principles.

All things act of their own accord and work together, without seeing this as a favor granted by anyone. “Things that stir” refers to the myriad things in motion; here, it can be understood as beings that each have their own vitality and capacity to act. They move one another and each fulfills its function simply because this is natural. It is like a person’s arms and legs, ears and eyes: each has its own use. Since none acts with deliberate intent, none feels indebted to another for a favor. The same principle applies to governing all things through Wuwei.

Thus, after acting, one leaves no deliberate trace: when the ruler allows the people to live as they will, things happen naturally, with no trace to be found. Nor does one leave behind deeds for others to recount: all things settle into their proper places, like the head and feet, each with its own role; there is no need for them to teach or imitate one another. When their actions are not conspicuous, they gradually pass out of people’s stories.

A filial child does not flatter their parents, and a loyal minister does not fawn on the ruler: these are virtues expected of children and ministers. “Flattery” means insincerely agreeing with someone to please them; “fawning” means seeking to win another’s favor by improper means. For children and ministers to serve their parents and ruler without flattery or deception, and to fulfill their filial and loyal duties, is a worthy virtue.

Yet if children agree with everything their parents say and praise everything they do, common opinion calls them unfilial. If ministers agree with everything the ruler says and praise everything he does, common opinion calls them disloyal. But is this judgment of common opinion necessarily correct? The commentators hold that this passage concerns conduct that goes against common assumptions by following the wishes of rulers and parents; for this reason, society calls such people unworthy. Where the truly appropriate standard lies, however, still needs to be clarified.

“Unfilial” means not resembling one’s ruler or father. Here it refers to people whose words and actions make no distinction between good and bad, but simply follow the customs of the time. They never think to offer remonstrance or argue against what is done. So the world calls such people “unfilial,” though people may not understand the reason behind the label or be able to judge whether it truly fits.

Whatever the world considers right, they consider right; whatever the world considers good, they consider good. Are such people not simply flattering the customs of the age and guiding the crowd along with them? If so, is the world more worthy of reverence than one’s father, or more deserving of respectful treatment than one’s ruler?

The commentary says: People of the world refuse to regard their ruler and father as more important than worldly custom. Instead, they follow the customs of the time without thinking they are flattering anyone. They believe that dignity alone is not enough to make people obey; to secure obedience, one must also go along with worldly custom. Thus the sage never deliberately sets himself apart from other people, but adapts to the changing times and acts as circumstances require. In an emperor’s age, he does what accords with the way of emperors; in a king’s age, he does what accords with the way of kings. How could he turn against worldly custom and act only according to his own ideas?

The subcommentary says: Here, “reverence” means respect. This passage explains that there is no fixed rule for either opposing or following worldly custom. When the world considers something right and good, offering remonstrance and argument is then appropriate. If one opposes worldly custom and follows one’s father, one is called a flatterer. But if one opposes one’s father and follows worldly custom, is that not also flattery? Since both following and opposing have their own justifications, right and wrong become blurred. Where, then, is the true principle? And how can opposing one’s father while following worldly custom count as respect for one’s ruler and father?

If someone says they are guiding the crowd, they flare up in anger. If someone says they are flattering others, they also become angry.

The commentary says: People of the world often take what most people approve of to be right. So when they are accused of “flattering and guiding” others, they become angry and refuse to accept the charge.

In fact, they spend their whole lives guiding others and their whole lives accommodating them.

The commentary says: They do not inquire into the principle; they only seek to get along with one another.

The subcommentary says: “Flare up” and “become angry” both describe anger. “Guide” means to lead. This passage says that when people of the world are accused of flattering their ruler or father, they become angry and refuse to admit it. Yet they spend their whole lives guiding and flattering others, as do most people in the world.

They are skilled at piecing together analogies and polishing their words, and so they gather people around them. In this way, from beginning to end, from root to branch, they do not hold one another to account for wrongdoing.

The commentary says: They piece together analogies and polish their words, which ought to expose them to blame for flattering and guiding others. Yet people of the world gather around them because of this, forming a group. Those who follow worldly custom are never held to account.

The subcommentary says: They are skilled at using analogies and adorning their speech with empty flourishes, so people rush to follow them and gather into a crowd. Because everyone follows them, they can maintain consistency from beginning to end, and they do not blame one another. In some versions, the word for “analogy” is written as “jade disc,” and is explained as joining jade discs together.

They make their clothes elaborate and splendid, adorn themselves with bright colors, and alter their appearance and manner to please the world, yet do not think they are catering to convention. They join with the crowd and confuse right and wrong, yet do not think they are any different from everyone else. This is folly at its extreme.

Since most people in the world are so foolish, one can hardly avoid going along with them.

The Yellow Emperor established the upper garment and lower skirt, and the world was thereby brought to order. People then combined colors such as red and purple into splendid decorations, and altered their appearance and manner to please the world. Those who were frivolous and insincere not only failed to see themselves as flatterers, but instead followed rulers and spoke words designed to please. They joined with worldly people, colluded with one another, and confused right and wrong, yet imagined themselves unlike everyone else. This can be called the height of folly.

Those who know they are foolish are not utterly foolish; those who know they are confused are not utterly confused. The truly bewildered never resolve their confusion throughout their lives; the truly foolish never understand things throughout their lives.

Sages accord with the Dao (the Way), while rulers each act in their own way. This is because worldly delusion is indeed hard to dispel, so sages accommodate the ways of the world and let things take their natural course.

“Understanding” means awakening, and “numinousness” means wisdom. Those who know they are foolish and confused are sages. Sages accommodate the times and let things take their natural course; their apparent foolishness, therefore, is not true delusion. The greatly foolish and greatly bewildered are ordinary people: their minds are dim and shallow, and they become confused whenever something happens, so they never awaken, even by the end of their lives.

If three people travel together and one loses the way, they may still reach their destination, because the one who is lost is in the minority. If two lose the way, everyone will grow weary from the journey, and they will ultimately fail to arrive, because the confused are many and those who understand are few. Now the whole world is confused. Though I have the will to seek and yearn for the Great Dao—the fundamental Way spoken of by Daoists—I have no way to attain it. Is this not tragic?

Here, “go” means to set out, “arrive” means to reach one’s destination, “confused” means to be bewildered, and “seek” means to search for. If three people travel together and one loses the way, they may still reach their destination, because the confused are few and the clear-minded are many. If two lose the way, they will grow weary and fail to arrive, because the confused are in the majority. Now everyone under Heaven is confused. Although Zhuangzi wishes to seek the Dao and turn toward it, he has no way to attain it, and so he feels sorrow. Yao, Shun, Tang, and Wu acted in accordance with their respective times for the same reason.

Refined and expansive music cannot be accepted by the vulgar ears of the village.

When “Breaking Willow” and “Yellow Blossoms,” popular folk tunes, are played, people join in, answering the melody and laughing.

This means that when ordinary people hear a tune that pleases them, they respond in unison and laugh along with it.

“Great music” refers to ancient music such as “Xianchi” and “Dashao,” not the tunes commonly heard in the lanes and villages. “Zheyang” and “Huanghua” were probably popular little songs in ancient times. People enjoyed and knew these vulgar tunes, so they would brighten at the first sound, join in singing, and even laugh together. In the past, Marquis Wen of Wei would drift off to sleep while listening to ancient music, but grew cheerful when he heard the new music of Zheng and Wei. This story illustrates just this situation.

Thus, elevated words do not take root in the minds of the multitude.

“Taking root in the mind” means being kept in mind, understood, and accepted.

Subtle and profound discussions reach beyond worldly understanding, and so they are called “elevated words.” They can contain the spiritual realm of the sage, so how could ordinary people’s wisdom comprehend them? The ears of villagers cannot accept great music; elevated words, too, are naturally hard to keep in the minds of the multitude.

The most profound words do not circulate in worldly conversation, while worldly conversation gains the upper hand.

This is why the people of the world do not appoint sages: they always act according to their own habits.

“Circulate” means to be made known and spread. The words of the utmost Dao are plain and tasteless, and villagers will not listen to them. How, then, could they take root in the minds of the multitude? Worldly speech, by contrast, prizes fine phrases and is showy and false, like songs such as “Zheyang,” which many people enjoy hearing. Once commonplace talk gains the upper hand, the words of the utmost Dao are obscured. Thus the “Qiwulun” says that speech is obscured by ornate language; people are also led by all kinds of confusion, until they no longer know where they are going.

Each person clings to their own views, and so no one knows where to go.

“Zhong” means heel. Those who have lost their way mistake north for south. Once these two confusions arise, it is as if everyone’s feet are hanging down, unable to take a step; no one can move forward alone. How could they reach the place they originally intended to go? This further explains the confusion described above.

Now the whole world is confused about me. Even if I seek something and long for a destination, how could I possibly reach it?

If two people have their feet hanging down and cannot find their bearings, they will already struggle to know where to go. How much harder, then, when everyone in the world has lost their way? How could they find the right direction? So even if one wishes to seek the right way, it is indeed difficult to attain. This explains the earlier lament, “Is this not tragic?” Since it is clear that the task cannot be accomplished, forcing oneself to do it is itself another form of confusion. Better to let go and stop pressing forward.

“Let go” means to follow along and live alongside things.

“Let” means to release. The confusion has already grown deep, and it cannot be cleared away in haste. Trying to correct people by force is another kind of folly. Better to let go and stop pressing forward; then people and all things can find stability.

If we stop pressing forward, who will still grieve over one another?

If we let people, for the time being, each find their place and live at ease, without forcing them to understand the Way, then people can live together in this world with less sorrow.

If the myriad things are allowed to develop each in their own way, and once doubts are dispelled they are no longer pursued, then the distinctions between people will also dissolve. Who would still be troubled by thoughts of freedom or distress?

There was an ugly man who had a child in the middle of the night. He hurriedly brought a lamp to look at the baby, anxiously afraid that it would grow up to look like him.

Note: “Ugly” here means a person with an unattractive appearance. People everywhere are unwilling to become wicked. Some are driven to it by heavy, harsh service; others have lost their original nature. Yet those who have lost their way will reflect on how to recover their nature, just as the ugly man will hope to become better. Therefore, if I practice Wuwei, the myriad things under Heaven will transform of themselves.

Commentary: “Ugly” refers to someone with an unattractive or flawed appearance. “Hastily and anxiously” describes his hurried, fretful manner. The ugly man had a child in the middle of the night and quickly fetched a light to see whether the baby, too, would be ugly. He so detested his own ugliness that he hoped his child would change from ugly to beautiful. Then would people who are ignorant and confused not grow weary of being lost and turn to seek awakening? If they can let go of their doubts and stop clinging to them, distress will naturally disappear.

A tree that had grown for a hundred years was cut down and made into a ritual vessel shaped like an ox, then decorated with blue-green and yellow paint. Another piece of wood was thrown into a ditch. Compare the ritual vessel with the discarded wood: their beauty and ugliness certainly differ, but both have equally lost their original nature.

Commentary: The ritual vessel, called a xi zun, was carved in the shape of an ox. The wood was shaped like an ox and decorated with blue-green and yellow paint, while another piece of wood was cast into a ditch, unwanted by anyone. Compared with one another, the two certainly differ in beauty and ugliness, but both have lost their original form and nature. The text first uses wood as an analogy.

Robber Zhi differed greatly from Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu in conduct and moral principle, but they had lost their original nature to the same degree.

Commentary: This analogy makes the point clear. Jie and Robber Zhi indulged in violence and cruelty, while Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu practiced benevolence and righteousness. On the surface, they differed in good and evil; in their loss of their true nature, however, they were in fact no different.

There are, broadly speaking, five ways in which one can lose one’s original nature.

Commentary: There are many reasons why people’s dispositions become confused and their original nature is lost. In broad terms, they can be summed up in five ways.

First, the five colors disturb the eyes, leaving them unable to see things clearly.

Commentary: The five colors are blue-green, yellow, red, white, and black. People immersed in worldly colors have their eyes disturbed and can no longer see things clearly. Hence the phrase “the eyes do not see clearly.”

Second, the five tones disturb the ears, leaving them unable to hear clearly.

Commentary: The five tones are gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu. Those absorbed in worldly music can no longer hear the Dao, hence the phrase “the ears do not hear clearly.”

Third, all kinds of odors overwhelm the nose, clogging it and clouding the mind.

Commentary: The five odors are muttony, smoky, fragrant, fishy, and putrid. “Clogged and blocked” describes the nose being obstructed and breathing becoming difficult.

When the nose becomes absorbed in all kinds of smells, it becomes blocked and congested, harming the head. “Forehead” means the brow. In ancient books, “smell” can also refer to fragrance. The Book of Changes says, “Its fragrance is like orchids,” and Daoist scriptures speak of “the five fragrances”; both refer to pleasant scents. The Scripture of the Western Ascension says that attachment to fragrance becomes a source of disturbance.

Fourth, the five flavors disturb the mouth and tongue, causing people to lose their normal sense of taste.

Explanation: The five flavors are sour, pungent, sweet, bitter, and salty. “Harm” means illness, and “impair” means to lose one’s normal state. When people indulge in the five flavors, turbid Qi disturbs the mouth. Over time, flavors such as saltiness and bitterness can make them ill, and the tongue loses its ability to distinguish tastes. This is why the text says “harm and impairment.”

Fifth, insisting on choosing and rejecting disturbs the heart, making one’s nature restless and unsettled.

Explanation: “Choose” means to take; “reject” means to give up; “disturb” means to unsettle. Taking what pleases the heart and rejecting what does not stirs the mind, making one’s natural nature ceaselessly pursue and compete, until it becomes frivolous and agitated. This is why the text says “soaring and restless.”

These five conditions are all factors that harm life.

Explanation: This sums up the five things discussed above. They are like knives that cut into life and axes that damage it—things that pose great harm to people.

Yang Zhu and Mo Di, however, began to exert themselves deliberately, believing they had gained something. This is not what I mean by true gain.

Explanation: “Straining oneself” describes deliberate exertion. Yang Zhu and Mo Di each showed off their abilities, thereby losing their nature and harming their lives, yet they regarded this as a gain. Because it goes against the natural order, it is not the true gain meant by Zhuangzi.

As for what is called “gain,” can being confined really count as gaining something? If so, then turtledoves and owls shut up in cages could also be said to be content with themselves.

Explanation: If benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and law are used to bind people’s hearts, they do not reflect people’s true nature. Going against one’s nature leads to distress. If that distress is still considered a gain, how is it any different from turtledoves and owls shut up in cages, yet imagining themselves free?

Moreover, attachment to choosing and rejecting, to sounds and beautiful sights, clogs the heart like straw. Wearing a leather cap or a kingfisher-feathered headdress, carrying a tablet, tying on a broad sash, and wearing a long skirt are ways of constraining the body through outward forms.

Explanation: A leather cap is made of leather; a kingfisher-feathered headdress is decorated with the bird’s blue-green feathers. “Insert” means to tuck in, and a tablet is the board held in the hands when appearing before the court. A broad sash and a long skirt are also parts of court dress. Those who pursue empty splendor and ornament make choosing and rejecting their daily business, let sounds, beautiful sights, and other sensory objects clog their hearts, and constrain their outward appearance with robes, headdresses, and tablets. They depart from the Dao of Wuwei (non-action) and go against their natural nature, yet regard these things as gains. How is this different from…

A horned owl is confined within a wooden enclosure, crammed with things, and bound round and round with ropes. It looks about in alarm through the ropes, yet thinks itself content. This is like a criminal whose arms are tied behind his back and whose fingers are bound one by one; or like a tiger or leopard shut inside a sack and an animal cage, yet thinking itself pleased.

Commentary: The mind, filled with thoughts of choosing and rejecting, is like a prison piled high with clutter; outwardly, it is also constrained by wooden bars and bindings like cords. Comparing this condition to being tied up with ropes shows how deeply a person is trapped, though they still believe themselves content. How is this any different from a criminal with his arms crossed behind him and his fingers bound one by one? Or from a tiger or leopard caught in a sack and an animal cage, plunged into the utmost distress and confinement, yet still thinking itself pleased? How is that any different?