《南華真經註疏》Vol. 18

The Nanhua True Scripture: Annotations and Subcommentary, juan 18, section four

Guo Xiang of Henan, annotation; Master Cheng Xuanying of Xihua, Tang dynasty, subcommentary.

Outer Chapters: “Cultivating One’s Nature,” Chapter 16

They cultivate their nature amid worldly conventions, yet rely on worldly learning in hopes of restoring their original nature.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Their nature has already been damaged by worldly conventions, yet they still hope to restore the root of their nature and life through worldly learning. This pursuit itself departs from the right way.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: “Cultivate” means to tend and refine; “nature” means the inborn nature; “worldly” refers to acquired habits and influences; “original” means what was there from the beginning. People receive their natural nature and each rests in their proper share of life, acting in accordance with what is natural. This is already in accord with reason. But now they use contrived rules to alter their true nature, forcing and embellishing themselves until they are worn down and damaged. Then they study such worldly Confucian teachings as benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and wisdom, hoping to restore their original nature. The result is that the deeper their worldly conditioning grows, the more their nature is lost; the more they learn, the farther they stray from the Dao.

They are confused by worldly desires, yet still hope to attain clarity through thought.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Their minds are already disturbed by desire, yet they put thought to work in pursuit of clarity. The more refined their thinking becomes, the farther they stray from the Dao.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: “Disturbed” means thrown into confusion; “attain” means to obtain; “desires” refers to things such as fame, profit, sights, and sounds that provoke craving. The mind grows clouded because it clings to worldly desires. If people now abandon those desires but continue to employ discriminating thought, pondering and studying over and over in the hope of gaining a way to discern clearly, they will not succeed. Only by taking learning nothing as learning can one return to the root; only by taking thoughtlessness as thought can one attain clarity. Another version reads, “Disturbed by desire amid desire.”

Such people are called deluded and benighted.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: To open up what is benighted, one must first leave the world behind and cast off desire; only then can one draw near to the right way.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: “Obscured” means blocked; “benighted” means darkened. This sentence sums up what came before: those who hope to restore their nature through worldly learning and to attain clarity through thought may be called deluded and benighted.

Those of ancient times who understood how to govern by the Great Way nurtured wisdom through calm and stillness.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: Only when the mind is calm and still will wisdom cease to waver; when wisdom does not waver, nature will not be lost.

Cheng Xuanying’s subcommentary: “Calm” means peaceful and still. The ancient sages cultivated themselves and governed the state through the Dao. They invariably used calm and stillness to nurture genuine, unadorned wisdom, keeping it from being disturbed by external things.

To act from birth without relying on deliberate use of wisdom is called nurturing calm through wisdom.

Guo Xiang’s annotation: One does not act by deliberately deploying wisdom, but lets the wisdom one already possesses unfold naturally. Then, even if that wisdom extends throughout the myriad things, one can still remain calm and at ease.

When clear awareness and understanding arise naturally from one’s own nature, this is true knowing. When the mind contains no deliberate fabrication, knowing has no artificial source. Let this knowing proceed naturally, without deliberate effort: this is knowing without contrivance. One truly knows, yet this is not the kind of knowing pursued through artificial distinctions.

Thus, a person may know throughout the day without clinging to the thought “I am knowing.” They may also act throughout the day without clinging to the thought “I am acting,” while being neither wholly unaware nor inactive. Use this genuine knowing to nurture serenity. Otherwise, how could one attain true serenity?

Knowing and serenity nurture one another, and the principle of harmonious understanding then emerges from a person’s nature.

Note: When knowing is free of deliberate contrivance, it does not disturb serenity. When action arises naturally within serenity, it does not hinder knowing. This is what it means for knowing and serenity to nurture one another. If they nurture one another, could the principle of harmonious understanding arise from anywhere else?

Commentary: If a person cannot be serene, how can true knowing arise? Without true knowing, how can such serenity be attained? Serenity therefore comes through knowing and is able to settle; knowing, in turn, relies on stillness and thereby becomes true knowing. This is how knowing and serenity nurture one another. The Way of the Mean and Harmony resides in the mind, while the principle of naturalness comes from one’s inborn nature. Both are within oneself—why rely on anything else?

De is harmony; the Dao is principle.

Note: De brings harmony to the myriad things, so it is said to encompass everything. The Dao runs through the myriad things, so it is said to accord with principle everywhere.

Commentary: De extends to others, so it is described in terms of the Mean and Harmony. Principle runs through the myriad things, so it is called the Great Dao.

De encompasses everything: this is benevolence.

Note: To encompass everything is not to practice benevolence deliberately; rather, the traces of benevolence appear naturally.

Commentary: Profound and far-reaching De encompasses all things. Its compassion and generosity are broad, and so the traces of benevolence appear.

The Dao accords with principle everywhere: this is righteousness.

Note: To accord with principle everywhere is not to practice righteousness deliberately; rather, the workings of righteousness appear naturally.

Commentary: The Dao runs through the myriad things, enabling each thing to find its place and accord with its principle. When what is fitting is clear, the workings of righteousness become apparent.

When the principles of righteousness are made clear and the myriad things draw near, this is loyalty.

Note: Even when the principles of righteousness are made clear, if loyalty is not their foundation, the myriad things will instead grow more distant.

Commentary: The principles of righteousness are clear and evident, and feeling comes from the heart. There is neither self-praise nor arrogance, so the myriad things come near and attach themselves.

When the heart is pure and sincere and returns to one’s true nature, this is joy.

Note: When benevolence and righteousness arise naturally from the heart and do not depart from one’s original feelings, one’s aims can be fulfilled. When they are fulfilled, joy is expressed outwardly.

Commentary: Since benevolence and righteousness arise from the heart, a person’s intentions are pure and sincere. Even amid external things, one continually returns to one’s true nature. What one does is harmonious and fitting; this is called “joy.”

When people are sincere within, upright in their actions, and their appearance and conduct follow the natural measure, these outward expressions are called ritual propriety.

Sincerity expressed in one’s appearance and conduct, without violating the natural measure, is the expression of ritual propriety. But if a single system of ritual and music is imposed everywhere under Heaven, the world will instead fall into disorder. Requiring everyone to follow one way of life and share one set of interests might suit one place, but it would make people elsewhere lose their own nature. If people cannot empty their minds and respond to things as they are, but cling to outward forms to govern the world, they become bound by ornate and complicated ceremonies and absorbed in excessive musical pleasures. Thus even displaying again the straw dogs used in sacrifice can throw the world into confusion.

When each person sets their own nature in order and follows their innate capacities, they can understand their own De without using their standards to disturb others. If people impose their own standards on others, how could the myriad things avoid losing their nature?

Here, “the other” refers to the sage who practices the right way; “obscure” means unenlightened, and “intrude” means to disturb. The point is that when people disturb others by imposing their own standards, both people and things lose their distinct natures.

People in ancient times lived in an age of undivided chaos and simple obscurity. They were wholly at one with the world and so could preserve a quiet, desireless life.

This refers to the nameless ancient rulers who lived before the Three Sovereigns. The simple customs of that time had not yet faded. People lived in a hazy, undivided state, at one with their age, leaving no conspicuous traces of ritual rules. Rulers and subjects had no elaborate dealings with one another, and all enjoyed a quiet, peaceful life of Wuwei (non-action).

At that time, Yin and Yang were harmonious and still; ghosts and spirits were undisturbed; the seasons followed their proper course; the myriad things suffered no harm; and living beings did not die before their time. Though people had intelligence, they had no need to put it to use.

The commentary says that in those days, everything was simply allowed to follow its natural course. Because society as a whole was simple and tranquil, and followed Wuwei, the two Qi (vital energy) forces of Yin and Yang were harmonious and settled. The unseen realm and the human world each kept to their proper place without disturbing one another. The seasons proceeded in order, the myriad things suffered no calamity, and living beings each reached the end of their natural lifespan. Even when people had intelligence, Wuwei left it nowhere to be applied.

This is called “the Great Unity”: all are equal and return to Wuwei; right and wrong dissolve into tranquility, and people and things each rest in their own nature. In those days, no one deliberately acted, yet the myriad things were always naturally as they were.

This is what is called “the Supreme One,” the highest state of undivided unity. There is no human master in control and no deliberate action; all things move and grow on their own. Wuwei (non-action) does not mean acting in confusion, unaware of the reasons for what one does. That all things move as they do without knowing why is precisely what it means for them to follow their nature. In that age, people embodied the virtue of Wuwei, and all things accorded with the Dao of Nature.

Virtue gradually declines

The commentary says: Virtue declined because the sages no longer carried on the inheritance from one generation to the next. Those in high positions could not practice Wuwei, yet admired the outward traces it left behind, and so brought about this failing.

When the Suiren and Fuxi began to govern the world, they could only follow the people’s inclinations; they could not bring the world back to undivided unity.

The commentary says: The world had already lost its unity, and some conditions may have been impossible to change. The only option was to guide things along, without forcibly imposing instruction, and to follow the course of the age.

The explanatory note says: “Dai” means “when it came to.” In ancient times, people ate raw food and drank blood, living alongside deer. It was only with Suiren that they began cooking food. Fuxi taught people to tame oxen and horses and travel on horseback, established kitchens, drew the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) to create writing, and, imitating the spider’s web, invented fine-meshed nets. From then on, clever contrivances and deceit began to emerge, and desires gradually multiplied. The simple, unadorned heart consequently grew shallow, and the Dao of Wuwei declined. People then began to govern the world. Perhaps this is what is meant: they followed the people’s wishes but could not unite everyone in the Supreme One.

Virtue declined further. When Shennong and the Yellow Emperor began to govern the world, they sought only to bring stability and could not follow the course of all things.

The commentary says: They merely let people be content with their own circumstances.

The explanatory note says: The transformation through virtue declined further, and its failings grew more severe. In Shennong’s time, there was a battle involving Gonggong; in the Yellow Emperor’s time, there was war with Chiyou. Calamities and unusual omens continued, and fighting broke out again and again. They therefore punished the violent and eliminated those who caused harm, comforted the people and condemned the guilty, hoping in this way to force the world into stability. Yet they still could not allow all things to follow their own course fully.

Virtue declined further. When Tang Yao and Yu Shun began to govern the world, they established systems of government and instruction, causing simplicity and sincerity to dissipate and plainness to break apart.

The commentary says: The sages had no private motives; they simply let the age develop on its own. Whether the age became more sincere or more shallow was not something the sages deliberately brought about. All they could do was let the age take its own course and allow people to find their proper place. How could sages force everyone in the world to become a sage? Thus, the deeds of successive rulers in governing the world changed as the age changed, while the Dao of the sages remained whole.

The explanatory note says: Tang Yao and Yu Shun lived at the end of the era of the Five Emperors, yet they established government and promoted instruction on a scale greater than that of the early Three Kings. They set up the Five Offices to administer the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and appointed officials to govern the people. The people thereby gradually became shallow and deceitful, and from then on the Five Phases fell into disorder and decline. Their branches and offshoots have continued down to the present. Is this not precisely a harm to…

When people’s original simplicity is corrupted and their plain nature is lost, they turn to the pursuit of showiness and falsehood. In this way, they depart from the Dao and make deliberate goodness their goal.

“Goodness” is a name for what exceeds due measure. To pursue goodness single-mindedly is to lose the wholeness of the Dao.

The Dao, empty, still, and open to all, does not cling to good or evil. But now people abandon their own nature to imitate others, flaunt their reputations, and seek a name for goodness. This goes against the inherent order of things, and so is called “departing from the Dao.”

When people use contrived conduct to advertise their virtue, their hearts become unsettled.

“Conduct” here means actions taken deliberately against one’s nature. Once people deliberately establish a pattern of conduct, their De can no longer remain at peace.

“Peril” means danger and obstruction. People do not follow their nature and let things take their course; instead, they conceal their true selves and put on affected airs to win a reputation. Such outward conduct and reputation are both showy and false. Their inner De is thereby placed in peril. How could it remain still and at peace?

Next, people abandon their nature and follow the promptings of their own hearts.

When people let their desires drive them, they lose their nature.

People depart from the empty, still, and open Dao, abandon the gentle, harmonious De, and then give up their natural nature to follow a heart that distinguishes and calculates.

Hearts compete with one another, and knowledge vies to display itself.

This describes opposing hearts that scheme against one another, calculate what is right and wrong, good and bad, and compete to judge first. They no longer let their nature take its course.

Knowledge is not enough to bring peace to the world.

Only by forgetting discriminating knowledge and letting nature take its course can the world be brought to peace.

People’s hearts attach themselves to external things, while knowledge continually makes distinctions and judgments, without end. As a result, all directions, above and below, seem veiled in smoke and dust, and places near and far are thrown into turmoil. The seasons lose their proper order, and the sun, moon, and stars become irregular. This is the root of disorder. How could it bring peace to the world?

After this, people add embellishments and adorn themselves with extensive learning. Embellishment harms simplicity, while broad learning ensnares the mind.

Literary refinement and extensive learning are both used to adorn the mind and its simple, natural nature.

Earlier, the text said that people put their minds to work using knowledge, but that this was not enough to bring peace to the world. So they turn to writings and classics to set the age right, and to extensive learning to help the world. But they do not understand that simplicity is the foundation of embellishment: the pursuit of literary refinement obscures what is genuine. Extensive learning is merely an offshoot of the mind; becoming immersed in it can drown the heart. Only by letting go of attachment to learning and embellishment can one appreciate the beauty of Wuwei (non-action).

From this point on, the people become confused and disordered. They cannot return to their nature and true feelings, or recover their original state.

“Origin” here refers to the foundation of life and nature.

Literary refinement obscures simplicity, and extensive learning ensnares the mind; so the people begin to fall into disorder. If they wish to return to a tranquil nature and true feelings, and recover their original state…

Can the primal source of nature—the original root of all things—really be discovered through thought and knowledge? Alas, the embellishments and profusion produced by the mind and its knowledge are precisely the fault of straying from the source.

From this we can see that the world’s decline comes from the decline of the Great Dao, while the Great Dao’s decline is also tied to the world’s corruption. The world and the Great Dao become entangled with each other, and each brings about the other’s decline.

Commentary: The Great Dao can be preserved in the world only when people do not value it. But once worldly life flourishes, people begin to prize things such as fame and profit. The more things people value, the more the Great Dao declines. The Great Dao cannot prevent people from chasing after these things, and people cannot help treating the Great Dao itself as something precious to pursue. Thus, the two harm each other.

Explanatory note: “Decline” means abandonment and decay. From these examples, we can see that worldly customs grow increasingly shallow, casting aside the way of Wuwei (non-action). When the way of Wuwei is abandoned, it in turn transforms the simple and peaceful ways of the world. Thus, the world and the Great Dao each bring about the other’s decline.

How, then, can those who cultivate the Dao make the world flourish? And how can the people of the world make the Great Dao flourish?

Commentary: If neither side deliberately treats the other as something precious, they may instead help each other flourish.

Explanatory note: That is why sages who embrace the Great Dao keep their distance from worldly affairs. They do not wish to step forward to promote the Great Dao or govern the affairs of the world. How could a shallow and false society be transformed by the way of the sages?

The Great Dao cannot flourish through the world, and the world cannot flourish through the Great Dao. Even if a sage does not live in the mountains and forests, his virtue remains hidden and unseen.

Commentary: The reason a sage’s virtue cannot remain hidden today is that he has desires and feelings, and wants to come forth and make the Dao flourish. How can the Dao be made to flourish? The key is not to treat it as something precious and pursue it deliberately.

Explanatory note: In the declining final age, people cannot put the Great Dao into practice, and the way of Wuwei no longer prevails. Even if a sage who has realized the Great Dao comes into the world and mingles with ordinary people, no one recognizes him. His sage virtue is obscured and cannot be put to use. So even if he lives at court or in the marketplace, it is no different from living in the mountains and forests.

What is called “hidden” does not mean deliberately withdrawing into seclusion.

Commentary: If someone truly withdraws into seclusion by choice, yet still acts through external means, then the Great Dao and the world would flourish through each other. What would there be to call seclusion?

Explanatory note: The sage encounters a confused and disordered age, so the way of the sages cannot be put into practice. This does not mean he deliberately restrains his brilliance and conceals his virtue.

The hermits of old were not people who hid their bodies from view, kept silent, or concealed their wisdom so that it could not be put to use. They withdrew because the times and their fate were truly disordered and out of step.

Commentary: People do not understand how to return to the root. Instead, they abandon the root and pursue appearances, hoping to recover the root through appearances. The more they acquire appearances, the more they lose the root. This is a profound error. Even if a sage stepped forward to explain the principles, spoke to persuade people, and displayed his wisdom, how could this make the Great Dao and the world flourish through each other? It would only cause both to decline together.

Explanatory note: “Error” means something false and mistaken. A hermit does not hide himself from view. Even while living in the world, he is not necessarily…

Not disturbing the people does not mean keeping every word bottled up inside. It means that even when one speaks, one does not go against the ways of the world. It does not mean hiding one’s wisdom and never voicing it; it means that even when one exercises one’s abilities, one does not show off or draw attention to oneself. It is simply that, born into an age of error and disorder and beset by adversity, one advances or withdraws with the rise and fall of the times, preserving oneself and keeping clear of harm.

When the times are favorable and the world is at peace, one puts teachings into practice throughout the land. Then all things return to their true nature and become one, leaving no trace of human contrivance. A commentator says: “Returning to oneness” means allowing all things to follow their own nature. Their nature brings them back to unity of its own accord, so no human contrivance remains.

When the times are unfavorable and the world falls into hardship, one puts down deep roots, keeps to the utmost, and awaits a change in circumstances. Even amid turmoil, the sage remains calm and still. One must therefore hold fast to the root, settle one’s nature, and let all things change according to their own course. In a commentator’s view, this is precisely why the Great Dao is never lost.

When one encounters a world without the Dao, rampant with disorder and excess, the transformation through De cannot be put into practice, and one falls into hardship. At such a time, one must firmly safeguard the natural root and settle one’s utmost nature, follow change while abiding by the constant way, and wait for life to reach its end. Whether in adversity or in prominence, one feels neither sorrow nor joy; this is the way to preserve oneself. To remain joyful in hardship, steady amid danger, and let the times determine whether one advances or withdraws may be called the way of preserving oneself. A commentator says: “When the self is preserved, the world has no reason not to flourish.”

Those of ancient times who knew how to conduct themselves did not use clever argument to embellish their wisdom. They simply let genuine wisdom appear of itself. The ancients thought little of empty disputation and valued quietude, believing that talk was no substitute for action. They therefore did not use ornate language and clever arguments to dress up petty displays of cleverness.

Nor did they use ingenuity to bring hardship upon the people of the world. This refers to a calm and non-interfering state of mind: one does not misuse cleverness to harm or trouble the people.

Nor did they let cleverness damage their De; they simply held fast to what they had received from the beginning. Knowing their limits, they did not harm their inner contentment by pursuing things without end. Standing upright in their own place, following their nature, what would there be to do deliberately? A commentator says that “weiran” describes the bearing of one who stands upright on their own.

When one is content in joy, one’s actions do not disturb the stillness within. If one always returns to one’s natural nature and acts in accord with it, what need is there to make a deliberate effort? This means following nature and leaving things uncontrived.

The Great Dao is not constrained by the smallness of one’s actions.

Note: Walk at ease along a broad, level road.

Commentary: The Great Dao is vast and boundless, with nothing it cannot contain. Those who cling to small achievements only obscure the Dao. Thus, the Dao is never constrained by the smallness of one’s actions.

A person of De does not concern himself with whether his understanding is broad or narrow.

Note: He is at one with all things, open and far-reaching.

Commentary: The person of high De has wisdom that extends throughout all things. Why would he fix his mind on distinguishing right from wrong or showing off his powers of discernment?

Shallow understanding diminishes De; narrow conduct damages the Dao.

Commentary: Narrow knowledge diminishes the profound and mysterious fullness of De. Clinging to small paths and petty actions damages the empty, open vastness of the Dao.

So it is enough simply to set oneself right. To be content in complete joy is for the mind to find fulfillment.

Note: One’s mind finds contentment in itself; one brings peace to the heart without being stirred by emotions such as sorrow or joy. This is complete joy.

Commentary: When one follows the right path, everything one does becomes open and free. One clings neither to favorable circumstances nor to adversity, forgets sorrow and joy, and does whatever is fitting. This is complete joy. When joy is fully complete, the mind and nature are fulfilled as well.

When the ancients spoke of a fulfilled mind, they did not mean holding high office, riding in a splendid carriage, or wearing a ceremonial cap. They meant that nothing could add to one’s joy.

Note: The heart is full, and contentment comes naturally.

Commentary: Yi means “to increase,” xuan means “splendid carriage,” and mian means “ceremonial cap.” The ancients were simple and plain. They understood the Dao and followed nature. Fulfillment of the mind lay in calm and ease; it did not depend on high office or status. When one already has enough joy, what more could be added?

Today, however, people speak of a fulfilled mind as holding high office, riding in a splendid carriage, and wearing a ceremonial cap.

Commentary: The world today is shallow, and many people covet wealth and status. They regard these things as the means to satisfaction, and so believe that wearing a ceremonial cap and riding in a splendid carriage are what fulfill the mind.

Though splendid carriages and ceremonial caps may be on one’s person, they are not inherent in human nature or life. They are merely external things that happen to rest upon one for a time.

Commentary: “Happen to” means that something arrives unexpectedly. Splendid carriages, ceremonial caps, and wealth and status are all external things. They rest upon one only temporarily, so how could they last?

When these external things arrive, one cannot keep them out; when they depart, one cannot hold them back.

Note: They belong to the world outside oneself; whether they are gained or lost is not up to me.

Commentary: When fortune brings these things unexpectedly, one accepts a splendid carriage or ceremonial cap as circumstances allow. When fate takes them away, one calmly lets go of wealth and status. If one has no impulse to resist their arrival, why cling to them when they leave?

Thus, one does not let high rank and abundant riches make the mind run wild.

Note: One remains calm and untroubled, seeing nothing special in these external things resting upon oneself.

Do not seek to please the world or compete for fame and profit just because you are poor and in hardship.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: Those who are broad-minded and content with themselves do not feel burdened by poverty.

The explanatory note says: “Stretch” means to give free rein to one’s aspirations and put them into practice; “strive” means to rush about and compete. The ancients believed that whether one lives in hardship or rises to prominence is determined by fate, and that prosperity and decline are not up to oneself. Even if one holds high office and an important position, one may still be unable to give free rein to one’s aspirations. Those who accept a simple life of poverty and are at ease in hardship have no need to compete for fame and profit amid the clamor of worldly life.

Such people regard wealth and poverty alike.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “That” and “this” refer respectively to holding high rank and being poor and in hardship.

The explanatory note says: “That” means wealth and prominence; “this” means poverty and hardship. Wealth and poverty are both circumstances that happen to come one’s way by chance. If one can regard wealth with equanimity, one should also accept poverty calmly. Both are merely temporary conditions in which a person finds themself, so they may be regarded equally.

Then there is no sorrow.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: This does not mean one should rejoice in wealth.

The explanatory note says: One neither rejoices in wealth nor suffers over poverty. Letting circumstances change and following things as they naturally unfold, one has no sorrow.

Nowadays, when wealth departs, people are unhappy. This shows that even amid happiness, their hearts may still be in turmoil.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: If people are unhappy when wealth departs, that shows their hearts were already disturbed when wealth arrived. They let external things alter their inner selves.

The explanatory note says: People today have shallow understanding: they rejoice when external things arrive and grow troubled when they leave. They do not understand that wealth and poverty are both circumstances that happen to come one’s way by chance. Rejoicing at their arrival and sorrowing at their departure means being continually moved by joy and grief. Thus, even when they are happy in the moment, their hearts remain in turmoil.

Therefore, those who are led by external things and lose themselves, or are swayed by worldly customs and lose their nature, are called “people who have things upside down”—people who reverse what is inner and outer, fundamental and secondary.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: To devote oneself entirely to managing external things, thereby damaging one’s inner nature, is truly to reverse what is fundamental and secondary.

The explanatory note says: When circumstances come and go, one follows them into sorrow or joy, adjusting oneself to external things. Is this not losing oneself? Wealth and poverty are both worldly circumstances. If one takes worldly customs as natural and unquestionable, one loses one’s nature and departs from the true Dao (the Way); this is precisely to turn things upside down.