《南華真經註疏》Vol. 30

Emperor Yao offered the empire to Xu You, who refused to accept. Yao then offered the empire to Zizhou Zhifu.

Zizhou Zhifu said, “It would not be impossible for me to become Son of Heaven. However, I suffer from a grave malady of profound worry and strain, and I am just now nursing myself back to health; I have no spare time to govern the empire.”

The account of Yao and Xu You already appears in the Inner Chapters. Zizhou Zhifu was a recluse who embodied the Way. Yao knew him to be worthy and therefore offered him the imperial throne. Zizhou Zhifu meant that taking the role of sovereign was not beyond him, for he was capable of fulfilling such duties. “Profound” (you) here means depth in the heart; “worry and strain” (youlao) means anxiety and exhausting toil. He was saying that his mind was weighed down with deep cares and that he wished to cultivate body and spirit so as to align himself with the Way; he still had no leisure to handle government affairs or rule the empire.

The empire is the weightiest of responsibilities, yet he was unwilling to let it harm his own life—how much more would that hold for anything else?

To ascend the throne and command the world is to stand at the pinnacle of status and power; even so, he would not let such glory and honor damage his life. As for other external things, how could they occupy his mind?

Only one who does not take the empire as an object of pursuit may be entrusted with the empire.

One who forgets the empire and does not keep it in mind may be entrusted with its governance.

Emperor Shun offered the empire to Zizhou Zhibo. Zizhou Zhibo said, “I suffer from a grave malady of profound worry and strain, and I am just now nursing myself back to health; I have no spare time to govern the empire.”

The account of Shun already appears in the Inner Chapters. Zizhou Zhibo resembles Zizhou Zhifu; both are hidden sages.

Thus the empire is a vessel of supreme importance, yet it is not worth exchanging for one’s life. This is precisely how those possessed of the Way differ from ordinary people in the world.

The throne of the Son of Heaven is the weightiest position in the empire, yet persons of the Way will not sacrifice their lives for that exalted rank. If one is not a person of the Way, who could act thus? Therefore their conduct diverges from that of worldly people.

Emperor Shun offered the empire to Shan Juan. Shan Juan said, “I live within heaven and earth. In winter I wear furs and woolen garments; in summer I wear kudzu cloth and fine hemp. In spring I plow the fields, and my body gets enough labor; in autumn I gather the harvest, and my body gets enough rest and food. When the sun rises I go to work; when the sun sets I rest. I dwell at ease between heaven and earth, my heart content in its own joy—what would I want with the empire?”

Shu’s surname was Shan and his given name was Juan—a man who lived in seclusion. He placed himself between heaven and earth and the four directions, followed the turning of the four seasons, and was at ease within the world yet beyond the dust of society; the Dao was precisely in such a life. Therefore he would not accept the realm.

“How sad that you do not understand me.” He thus refused the offer of succession, withdrew into the deep mountains, and no one knew where he dwelt.

In antiquity people were plainspoken and called the ruler “Son.” The commentary means that the recluse Juan grieved because Shun did not understand him as a quiet person living apart in the wilds.

Shun wished to yield the realm to his friend the Farmer of Stone Gate. The Farmer of Stone Gate said, “You, our lord, are truly a man who toils and wears himself out!” Thereupon he took his wife on his back and his child in his arms and went into the sea; he never returned for the rest of his life.

“Stone Gate” is a place name; “farmer” means a cultivator. The Farmer of Stone Gate was Shun’s friend. “A man who guards his strength” refers to one who fixes his energy firmly on labor. The commentary explains that Shun’s resolve was firm and his work arduous—his back and waist weary, he could not rest; now he came again to see him and offered him the realm, so he would not accept. In old times people often carried things on the head or on the back; this custom still exists today in Goryeo. The Farmer of Stone Gate held that Shun’s virtue and transforming influence had not yet reached perfection, so he took wife and child to an island in the sea and from then on did not return.

Great King Danfu dwelt in Bin. The Di people came to attack him.

Danfu was the father of King Ji and grandfather of King Wen of Zhou; Bin is a place name. The Di people refer to the Xianyun. Bin bordered the Rong and Di, so they were attacked.

Great King Danfu sent leather and silk as gifts to the Di, but they would not accept; he sent dogs and horses, and they would not accept; he sent pearls and jade, and they still would not accept. What the Di wanted was the land.

Great King Danfu said, “To live with another man’s elder brother, one kills his younger brother; to live with another man’s father, one kills his son—I cannot bear this. All of you strive to dwell in peace. What difference is there between being my subjects and being the Di’s subjects?”

“Present” means to offer; “strive” means to encourage; “what” renders xi. The Di were greedy and cruel and aimed to seize the land; Danfu could not bear to harm the people in order to keep the territory, so he urged the people to remain and live in peace.

Moreover, I have heard that one must not harm those one is meant to nourish for the sake of supplying the land. Thereupon he left, leaning on a staff and carrying a walking stick; the people followed him in succession, and in the end they founded a state at the foot of Mount Qi.

“Using nourishment” means using the land to sustain the people; “those nourished” means the people. The source text ends here without completion.

Some people kill others in order to hold on to their land—such conduct cannot be justified. So he took up his staff and left.

The people came over to him one after another, and later they founded a state at Qiyang.

Great King Danfu (the Zhou clan leader, later honored as King Tai of Zhou) may be said to have understood how to cherish life. Those who cherish life do not harm their bodies for the sake of lavish living even when rich and noble, and do not let themselves be dragged down by grasping after profit even when poor and lowly. Nowadays people hold high office and noble rank, yet they dread losing position and stipend and lightly throw away their lives at the sight of gain—is that not benighted?

Commentary: In troubled times minds are shallow and restless, and hypocrisy prevails. Some crave carriages, horses, and fine dress and high office until they lose their lives; some chase wealth and profit until they perish. Not knowing how to weigh the serious against the slight, they are truly lost in delusion.

In Yue, rulers were assassinated three generations in a row. Prince Sou (a Yue prince) was afraid and fled to Dankue (a cave in the southern mountains) to escape harm. With no ruler in Yue, they searched for Prince Sou; when they found him he still would not come out. The men of Yue smoked the cave with mugwort, then welcomed him out with a jade carriage (the sovereign’s ritual vehicle).

Commentary: Sou was the prince’s personal name; Dankue means the cave in the southern hills. The jade carriage (yuyu) is the sovereign’s carriage; some manuscripts write “king” (wang), which should be read in sense as “jade chariot” (yulu), the vehicle of the ruler. After successive regicides in Yue, Prince Sou feared disaster and hid in the cave. When summoned he refused, so they smoked him out with mugwort; since they were asking him to be ruler, they received him with the jade chariot.

Prince Sou took the carriage cord and climbed aboard, looked up to heaven and sighed: “To be ruler, to be ruler—can you not leave me alone?” Prince Sou did not dislike being ruler; he disliked the calamities that being ruler brings. Someone like Prince Sou can be said not to let affairs of state injure his life. That is precisely why the people of Yue wanted him as their ruler.

Commentary: Yuan is to pull; sui is the cord on the carriage. Unable to refuse further, Prince Sou sighed and mounted. He did not scorn the throne but feared the harm the throne brings. He valued life and held rank lightly, so in the end he yielded and became ruler.

Han and Wei were fighting over encroached borderlands. Zihua Zi (a worthy man of Wei) went to see Marquis Zhao Xi (ruler of Han), who wore a troubled look.

Commentary: Marquis Xi was ruler of Han; Hua Zi was a worthy of Wei. Han and Wei were neighbors disputing frontier territory; war had begun and the outcome was still uncertain. Marquis Zhao Xi was afraid, hence his worried expression.

Zihua Zi said: “Suppose someone wrote a warning and set it before the ruler, saying: ‘If you seize the world with your left hand, your right hand will be ruined; if you seize it with your right hand, your left will be ruined.’ Even so, whoever goes to seize the world will still take it. Would you, my lord, care to seize it?”

“Shu” means to write or record. “Ming” is an inscribed mark; “jue” means to seize; “fei” means to cut off; “jia” means for the time being.

Place a piece of wood with an inscribed mark before someone: if they take it with the left hand, the right hand is cut off; if they take it with the right hand, the left hand is cut off. Either way, whoever takes the wood must become ruler of the world. This is a borrowed example used as a parable, asking Marquis Zhao Xi of Han: Would you do this in order to gain the world?

Marquis Zhao Xi of Han replied: “I would not cut off my own arm to obtain the world.”

Zihua Zi said: “Well said.”

The commentary takes this as praise that the Marquis’s words accord with reason.

From this it follows that the two arms matter more than the world, and the body matters more still than the two arms. Compared with the world, the state of Han weighs far less.

The commentary says that from these words, one person’s body is more important than two arms, and two arms are more important than the world. The world outweighs Han; the gap in weight between Han and the world is very large.

What people scramble for today is far lighter than Han. Yet you worry and fret, harm the body and drain life, vexing yourself over fear of not getting it—that is truly not worth it.

The commentary says people fight over borders and fields; compared with Han that is already much lighter, yet they still insist on worrying, injuring the form and wearing down the heart-mind, afraid they will not win— is that not foolish?

Marquis Xi said: “Well said! Many have taught me, but I have never heard words like these. Zihua Zi may be said truly to understand what is heavy and what is light.”

The commentary says that after hearing this, Marquis Xi understood, and praised these words as wonderful and profound.

The ruler of Lu heard that Yan He was a person who had attained the Dao, and first sent someone with gifts to visit him.

The commentary says “the ruler of Lu” refers to Duke Ai of Lu, though some say Duke Ding of Lu. Yan He was a man of Lu, surname Yan, given name He, a recluse. The Lu ruler heard he was upright and possessed the Way and wished to make him chief minister, so he sent an envoy with cloth and silk to express his intent beforehand.

Yan He lived in a humble lane, wore coarse hemp cloth, and fed his oxen himself.

The commentary says “jubu” is coarse hemp cloth; “fan” means to feed. Yan He dwelt in a remote, simple lane, wore coarse cloth, and fed oxen himself—enough to show how poor and austere his life was.

The envoy from Lu arrived, and Yan He received him in person. The envoy asked: “Is this Yan He’s home?” Yan He answered: “This is Yan He’s home.” The envoy presented the gifts, but Yan He said: “I fear those who heard of this have got it wrong and would cause the envoy to be punished. Better to verify first.”

The commentary says “yi” here means to cause someone to bear or incur (blame). Yan He did not wish to accept the gifts, so he declined tactfully, lest the envoy be blamed for delivering them to the wrong person.

When the envoy returned to report, and then came again to look for Liezi, he could no longer be found. A man like Yan He truly despised wealth and rank. Hence it is said: the true essence of the Dao (the Way) is used to cultivate oneself, its remnants to govern a state, and its dregs to govern the world. Seen in this light, the achievements of emperors and kings are merely the leftovers of the sage's work, not a means of preserving oneself or nurturing life.

The commentary explains: "Xu" (绪) means remnants, "tu" (土) means dung and dirt, and "ju" (苴) means straw. One who holds fast to the true Dao in his own person will surely regard governing a state as a matter of leftovers, and will see the world as no more than straw and soil.

Today, most of the so-called gentlemen of the common world harm their bodies and abandon their lives in pursuit of external things. Is this not lamentable? In every movement, the sage must first see clearly where he is going and what he is about to do.

The commentary explains: "Xun" (殉) means to pursue. The sage first observes the direction in which people are heading and learns what the common people say and do, and only then does he act and respond.

Suppose a man were to use the pearl of the Marquis of Sui (a treasure obtained by the ruler of the state of Sui) as a pellet to shoot at a sparrow a thousand fathoms high. The world would surely laugh at him. Why? Because what he uses is precious, while what he hopes to gain is trivial. How much more so with life, which is worth far more than the pearl of the Marquis of Sui!

The commentary explains: The state of Sui lay near the Pu River, which produced precious pearls. It was said that a divine serpent brought one in its mouth to repay a kindness, and the Marquis of Sui obtained it, hence the name "pearl of the Marquis of Sui." The sparrow was perched above a thousand fathoms, and to shoot it with a precious pearl is to seek something slight at the cost of something weighty. Harming one's life in pursuit of external things follows the same principle.

Liezi (Lie Yukou, a man who had attained the Dao in the state of Zheng during the Warring States period) lived in poverty, and his face showed signs of hunger. A guest said to Ziyang of Zheng: "Lie Yukou is a man of the Dao, yet he lives in your state in such poverty. Perhaps you do not care for scholars?"

The commentary explains: Ziyang was the chancellor of Zheng, and Yukou was a native of Zheng. Liezi possessed the Dao yet was poor, and Ziyang did not value worthy men and kept his distance from him, so the guest rebuked Ziyang.

Ziyang of Zheng immediately ordered an official to send grain to Liezi. When Liezi met the envoy, he bowed and thanked him again and again, but declined to accept the gift.

The commentary explains: Ziyang ordered the official in charge of the granaries to be summoned and to deliver grain to Liezi. Lie Yukou, lofty and pure in character, declined with thanks and did not accept it.

After the envoy left, Liezi went back into the house. His wife looked at him, beat her chest, and said: "I have heard that the wives and children of a man of the Dao all live in ease and joy. Now we show the hunger on our faces, and the chancellor has sent grain, yet you refuse to accept it. Is this not simply our fate?"

One account holds that Ziyang governed with harsh severity, and most of the common people resented him. Someone who had accidentally broken Ziyang’s bow, fearing punishment, took advantage of a crowd chasing a mad dog to stir up a riot; in the end they killed Ziyang.

When King Zhao of Chu (personal name Zhen, son of King Ping of Chu) lost his capital, Tu Yangshuo—a man who made his living slaughtering sheep—followed him into exile. After Wu She and Wu Shang were put to death by King Ping of Chu, Wu Zixu fled to Wu. Later he asked King Helü of Wu to send troops against Chu; Wu forces broke through Chu, entered Ying (the Chu capital), and avenged his father. King Zhao of Chu fled in panic, first to the state of Sui, then to Zheng; it was at this time that Tu Yangshuo followed Zhao in flight.

After Zhao returned to his kingdom, he wished to reward those who had accompanied him in exile. Tu Yangshuo declined: “When Your Majesty lost the state, I too lost my livelihood slaughtering sheep; when Your Majesty returned to the state, I recovered that livelihood. My rank and stipend are already restored—what is there to reward?”

The king said, “I insist on rewarding you.” Tu Yangshuo replied, “When Your Majesty lost the state, it was not my fault, so I dare not accept punishment; when Your Majesty recovered the state, it was not my merit, so I dare not accept reward.”

The king said, “Then at least let me see you.” Tu Yangshuo declined: “By Chu law, only those who have performed great service and earned heavy reward may have an audience. My wisdom was not enough to preserve the state, nor my courage enough to resist the Wu army. When Wu troops entered Ying, I hid from disaster—I did not deliberately follow Your Majesty. Now if Your Majesty wishes to set aside law and break rules to receive me, that is not something I wish the world to know.”

The king then said to Sima Ziqi: “Tu Yangshuo’s dwelling is low and his status humble, yet what he says is very lofty. Please invite him on my behalf to accept the rank of Three Banners (a high ministerial post; commentators say ‘Three Banners’ means the Three Dukes, while others take it as the three chief ministers).”

Tu Yangshuo replied, “I know that the rank of Three Banners is nobler than slaughtering sheep…”

As for how much income one could earn selling mutton, I knew that well; the ten thousand zhong of salary the ruler granted me was far greater than what I could make from that trade. Yet how could I, for the sake of coveting rank and stipend, let the ruler acquire a reputation for dispensing favors arbitrarily? I truly dare not accept—please allow me to return to my mutton shop.” In the end, he did not accept.

Yuan Xian lived in the state of Lu in a single shabby room. The roof was thatched with weeds; the door was dilapidated, with mulberry branches for pivots and a broken jar serving as a window. He stuffed the cracks in the walls with coarse cloth garments. When it rained, the roof leaked and the floor grew damp. He sat upright, plucked his zither, and amused himself.

Yuan Xian was a disciple of Confucius, surname Yuan, personal name Si, courtesy name Xian. “A room of one block wall” (huandu) means a space no larger than four walls enclosing a single block—an extremely small dwelling. “Ci” means roofing with thatch; “he” is coarse cloth clothing. Yuan Xian’s family was poor. His residence was only one small room, the roof thatched with grass, the door pivots made of mulberry branches, the door panels woven from couch grass, and a hole punched in a broken urn used as a window. Husband and wife each had one room. When it rained, the interior leaked and grew wet; Yuan Xian still played the zither and sang, content in his own enjoyment. This shows his attitude of accepting fate, willingly keeping to poverty and simplicity.

Zi Gong rode a tall horse, wore outer garments of white lined with dark blue, and traveled in a broad carriage so large the lanes could hardly accommodate it. He went to visit Yuan Xian.

Zi Gong was also a disciple of Confucius, personal name Ci, skilled in speech and fond of wealth and dignified appearance. His carriage and horses were imposing and his dress refined, so that even the alleys could not contain his vehicle.

Yuan Xian wore a hat made of birch bark, dragged his shoes, and came to open the door leaning on a staff of kudzu vine.

“Dragging the shoes” (zong lü) means the shoes trailed on the feet; “li” is a herbaceous plant whose stem Yuan Xian used as a walking stick. His household was poor and had no servants, so he had to answer the door himself.

Zi Gong said, “Alas, Master, what is the matter—are you ill?” Yuan Xian replied, “I have heard that lacking money is called poverty; learning but being unable to put it into practice is called illness. I am only poor now, not ill.” Zi Gong drew back a few steps, his face showing shame.

“Qunxun” describes hesitating and stepping backward. Zi Gong felt ashamed because his luxury stood in sharp contrast to Yuan Xian’s frugality.

Yuan Xian smiled and said, “Currying favor with the age in one’s conduct, clinging to power and forming factions; studying in order to show off to others, teaching in order to elevate oneself; speaking of benevolence and righteousness while harboring evil within; decking oneself out with carriages and horses to display one’s importance—these things I cannot bring myself to do.”

“Xishi” means catering to the world; “bizhou” means banding together in cliques; “te” is evil or devious. Yuan Xian held that using the name of benevolence and righteousness to seek private gain, or relying on carriages and horses for display, did not accord with the conduct of a gentleman.

Zengzi lived in theState of Wei. He wore a robe padded with coarse hemp waste, with no lining inside; his face was haggard, and his hands and feet were rough, cracked, and covered with calluses.

The commentary explains that his robe was made of hemp flock, without even an inner and outer layer. His complexion and skin were rough and split because he often worked with his own hands, which is why his hands and feet were worn into calluses.

For three days he did not light a fire to cook; for ten years he never had a new garment made. When he straightened his cap, the chin strap broke; when he lifted the hem of his robe, his elbows showed through; his shoes were worn through, and even the patched places split apart.

The commentary says he kept to his place and held to quiet restraint, and his household was poor. He did not prepare cooked food for three days, and did not make new clothes for ten years. The cap strap rotted away, so when he set his cap straight it snapped; his sleeves were torn, and raising the robe revealed his elbows; his shoes were old, and the mended sections split even at the heels.

Zengzi shuffled along in his broken shoes, singing the Shang Song (a hymn in the Book of Odes for honoring the ancestors of the Shang), until his voice filled heaven and earth like music struck from metal and stone. A man like this—neither the Son of Heaven could make him a subject, nor could feudal lords count him as a friend.

The commentary says that in singing the Shang Song, his tones were harmonious and his words refined and upright, in accord with the pattern of heaven and earth; his sound was pure, distant, and lingering, like the tone of metal and stone. His bearing was lofty and outstanding, so he would not bend to serve the Son of Heaven as a subject, nor join feudal lords as their companion.

Therefore, one who cultivates the mind forgets the body; one who nurtures the body forgets profit; one who embodies the Dao forgets the mind’s methods and stratagems.

The commentary says that the worthy do not abandon their purpose because the body is harmed; those skilled at preserving themselves do not harm life for gain; those who have attained the Dao can forget the mind and its applications.

Confucius said to Yan Hui, “Come—your family is poor and your dwelling remote. Why do you not take office?”

Yan Hui replied, “I do not wish to hold office. Outside the city I have fifty mu of land, enough to supply thin porridge; inside the city I have ten mu, enough to plant mulberry and hemp. Playing the zither is enough to amuse myself; studying the Master’s Dao is enough to make me glad. I do not wish to hold office.”

Confucius looked sorrowful and changed countenance. He said, “Yan Hui, you have spoken well! I have heard that one who knows sufficiency is not dragged by profit; one who truly knows how to find joy in himself is not afraid even if he loses everything; one whose inner cultivation is complete is not ashamed though he holds no rank. I have recited these words for a long time, but only today have I seen them embodied in Yan Hui. Yan Hui has made me understand.”

The commentary explains that zhan is thin porridge and zuo is shame. One who is truly self-sufficient is not thrown into turmoil by gain and loss; how could one inwardly cultivated be ashamed for lack of office? Confucius had long been familiar with these ideas, yet he still urged Yan Hui to take office. Now, seeing himself reflected in Yan Hui’s answer, he recognized his own misplaced words—and so said that Yan Hui had enlightened him.

Zhanzi was a worthy man of the state of Wei. The Wei ruler’s son was named Mou; enfeoffed at Zhongshan, he was therefore called “Zhongshan Gongzi Mou.” The prince wished to withdraw from the world but had not yet attained the virtue that truly transcends worldly affairs. Thus, although he lived in seclusion by rivers and seas, his heart still clung to the court of Wei. Because he still hankered after glory and gain, the worthy man took the occasion to question him on how he ought to cultivate himself.

Zhanzi said, “Cherish life. One who truly values life will hold profit lightly.”

When one esteems the way of life, glory and profit naturally lose their weight; once glory and profit no longer matter, one ceases to fix one’s thoughts on the court.

Zhongshan Gongzi Mou said, “Though I understand this principle, I still cannot overcome myself.”

He knew that the way of life outweighs glory and profit, yet he could not yet master his own desires and passions.

Zhanzi said, “Since you cannot overcome yourself, then follow your spirit (shen) and need not despise yourself for it.”

If desires still cannot be overcome, go along with the mind-spirit; there is no need to force suppression or to hate yourself on that account.

“To fail to overcome yourself and yet insist on repressing yourself and refusing to yield—this is called ‘severe injury’ (zhongshang). One who suffers such grave inner harm does not belong among the long-lived.”

When desires cannot be overcome yet one still forces them down, one both damages the body and goes against the true heart—hence ‘severe injury.’ Such people tend to die young and cannot be counted among those who live long.

Wei Mou was a prince of a great state, a noble of a realm of ten thousand chariots, yet he could dwell in mountain caves in seclusion. Even for a scholar of humble birth, such a choice is hard. Though Wei Mou had not yet reached the realm of the Great Dao (Da), he may still be said to have the will to withdraw from the world.

A royal grandson born to wealth and rank who yet settles in valleys and bears hardship in person—though he has not yet awakened to the subtle Great Dao, his lofty resolve is enough to stir those greedy for riches and to chasten the temper of the age.

Kongzi was trapped between Chen and Cai and for seven days could not kindle a cooking fire; he had only grainless soup of chen greens to drink. His face was deeply haggard, yet in his room he still strummed the zither and sang.

The episode of Kongzi’s plight in Chen and Cai has already been explained in the Outer Chapters. Stricken by hunger and without food, they could drink only chen soup without rice. Though worn and wan, Kongzi still amused himself with song. A sage who has penetrated the Way does not take such hardship to heart.

While Yan Hui was gathering vegetables, Zilu and Zigong stood aside and remarked, “The Master was twice driven from Lu and had his tracks erased in Wei; in Song, while he lectured, the tree under which he taught was cut down; in Shang and Zhou he met with obstruction, and now he is besieged between Chen and Cai. Even if someone killed the Master, he would bear no guilt; even if someone cast out his corpse, he would not be forbidden. Yet the Master still plays and sings—the sound of his strings never stops. Can a gentleman be so shameless?”

When Kongzi held office in Lu he was banished; traveling in Wei he was told to leave no trace; in Song, while he taught, the tree was felled….

Confucius was resting under a tree when Sima Huan Chu tried to kill him. Because he resented the place where Confucius had stopped, he had the tree cut down. Zi Lu thought that if those who wished to harm Confucius were treated as blameless, they could bully him at will with nothing to hold them back. Zi Gong had not yet grasped the point, and so he spoke as he did.

Yan Hui could not reply and went in to tell Confucius. Confucius set aside his zither, sighed deeply, and said, “Zhong You and Duanmu Ci are both men of narrow vision. Summon them—I mean to set the matter straight for them.”

When Zi Lu and Zi Gong entered, Zi Lu said, “In a situation like this, one may truly call it distress.”

“Kui ran” describes the manner of sighing. Zhong You and Duanmu Ci were not broad-minded enough, so Confucius had them called in to explain the right principle. When one’s circumstances are this hard, is that not what people usually mean by “distress”?

Confucius said, “What sort of talk is that? For the gentleman, to act in accord with the Way is to be penetrating; to turn away from the Way is to be in distress. Today I hold fast to the way of benevolence and righteousness yet meet the disasters of a chaotic age—how can that be called distress? Reflect upon yourself and do not abandon the great Way because of hardship; face danger without losing your virtue. Only after winter comes and frost and snow fall do we see that pine and cypress remain flourishing. Therefore the hardship in the region of Chen and Cai is, for me, a kind of good fortune.”

In the cold season of the year, pine and cypress stand apart from other trees; in human distress, the conduct of the person of virtue stands apart. To have one’s virtue show forth because of adversity may indeed be called good fortune.

Confucius’s expression eased. He took up his zither again, played, and sang along with the music. Zi Lu stirred himself and danced, shield in hand.

“Xiao ran” describes the sound of taking up the zither to play; “ge ran” describes a spirited, bold bearing. Teacher and disciples had grasped the teaching and rejoiced together.

Zi Gong said, “I now understand how high heaven is and how deep earth is. For those of old who attained the Way, they were joyful in distress and joyful in success. What they rejoiced in was not distress or success as such, but that the Way always remained in their hearts. Thus distress and success are like the alternation of cold and heat, wind and rain.”

Between heaven and earth there is the transformation of yin and yang; through the four seasons come cold and warmth. Living within this, how could one never meet distress, success, or contrary fortune? Therefore those who have attained the Way remain joyful in every situation, like wind and rain—things not worth taking to heart.

Thus Xu You found his joy on the northern bank of the Ying River, and Lord Bo of Gong withdrew to Qiushou.

Lord Bo, named He, was a grandson of the Zhou king. He embraced the Way and cherished virtue and received the fief of Gong. After King Li of Zhou met with calamity and the royal seat stood empty, the feudal lords regarded Lord Bo as worthy and invited him to become king. Unable to refuse, he took the throne and ruled for fourteen years. Later a great drought afflicted the realm and houses caught fire. Divination attributed this to the ghost of King Li, and Lord Bo was deposed so that King Xuan of Zhou could ascend. Lord Bo returned to his domain and still enjoyed his allotted revenue.

The local authorities might appoint him, yet he would not rejoice on that account; they might dismiss him, yet he would not resent it. He lived at ease in the region of Mount Qiushou.

Mount Qiushou is identified by some today with the area around Henei and Yinyang, and by others with Xiangyang; its exact location remains uncertain. Xu You once found joy by the banks of the Ying River, and Lord Gong once fulfilled his aspiration on Mount Shou.

Shun wished to yield the realm to his friend Beiren Wuzé. Beiren Wuzé said, “How strange is the conduct of this ruler (here meaning Shun)! He once lived among the fields and furrows, yet later passed in and out of Yao’s palace gates and received Yao’s honors. Was that not enough? Now he would again smear me with this sort of conduct that brings shame upon a person—I am ashamed to face him.” Thereupon he threw himself into the Qingling Abyss (a deep pool) and died.

Note: Confucius said, “One who aspires to ren (benevolence) may give up life to complete ren, but will not preserve life at the cost of harming ren.” A person of Beiren Wuzé’s lofty resolve, who transcends the mundane world, is not the same as those who crave profit even at the cost of their lives; thus the world between Heaven and Earth can still produce such exalted individuals.

Interpretation: “Beiren” means a man of the north; his name was Wuzé; he was Shun’s friend. “Hou” here means ruler; the raised border of a field is called mu, and the ditch is called quan. The Qingling Abyss lay within the territory of Xi’e County in Nanyang. Shun once farmed on Mount Li, long dwelling in the fields, then later entered Yao’s palace and accepted Yao’s abdication in his favor. Was his career not exactly of this kind? Beiren Wuzé felt that Shun would again stain him with this shameful conduct, and out of shame he cast himself into the Qingling Abyss.

When Tang was about to attack Jie, he sought counsel from Bian Sui. Bian Sui said, “This is not something I should do.” Tang asked, “Who can be consulted?” Bian Sui said, “I do not know.” Tang then sought counsel from Wu Guang. Wu Guang said, “This is not something I should do.” Tang asked, “Who can be consulted?” Wu Guang said, “I do not know.” Tang asked again, “What about Yi Yin?” Wu Guang replied, “He has daring and strength, and can endure disgrace; as for anything beyond that, I do not know.”

Interpretation: Both Bian Sui and Wu Guang possessed the Way and righteousness and were recluses. Tang knew they were worthy and sought their advice; but such matters are not what recluses wish to take part in, hence they answered “I do not know.” Yi Yin, surname Yi, personal name Yin, style name Zhi, was the worthy who assisted the worldly ruler. “Ren” means to endure; “gou” means shame. Since one must resort to force of arms, one needs someone with courage and strength; since one is about to kill one’s lord, one needs someone who can bear shame. As for Yi Yin’s other capacities, I do not know them.

Tang then plotted with Yi Yin to attack Jie. After defeating Jie, he tried to yield the realm to Bian Sui. Bian Sui declined, saying, “When the ruler was attacking Jie he came to consult me—he must have taken me for a rebellious minister; after defeating Jie he would yield the realm to me—he must have taken me for one who covets power. I was born into this chaotic age, and the world lacks the Way…”

That man came again to insult me with those shameful acts; I could not bear to hear it once more, so I threw myself into the Chou River and died.

Commentary: “Man” (漫) means to insult or defile. The Chou River was in Yingchuan commandery; “Chou” was also written as “Tong” (桐).

Tang then yielded the throne to Wuguang, saying: “The wise devise plans, the brave accomplish the task, and the benevolent occupy the position—this is the ancient principle. Why do you not become ruler?”

Wuguang declined: “Deposing a ruler is not righteous; killing the people is not benevolent. Others bear the hardships of war while I enjoy the profit—this is not the way of integrity.”

Commentary: “Enjoy” means to take benefit. “Deposing the ruler” refers to driving out King Jie of Xia; “killing the people” refers to killing in battle; “bearing the hardship” means others suffer slaughter; “I enjoy the profit” means accepting salary and emoluments oneself.

Wuguang said: “I have heard that salary gained without righteousness must not be accepted; in an age without the Way, one should not even set foot on its soil—how much less accept being made ruler? I cannot bear to look upon such a world for long.” He then shouldered a stone and drowned himself in the Lu River.

Annotation: An older view holds that men like Bian Sui and Wuguang regarded the realm as something outside the four quarters of heaven and earth, as if beyond human ken. That view is mistaken. Those who truly hold the realm light attach importance to nothing; when nothing is valued, nothing is worth dying to guard. If the realm were truly outside heaven and earth, it ought to be left to Yao, Shun, Tang, and King Wu to govern. With a detached heart and no fixed attachment, following the multitude and not caring about gain or loss—why then throw oneself into the water? Men like Bian Sui and Wuguang may be said to have died for reputation and yearned after purity, yet they still cannot be counted as having truly set the realm aside.

Commentary: The Lu River was in Liaoxi, Beiping commandery.

When the Zhou rose, two scholars lived in the state of Guzhu, named Boyi and Shuqi. The two discussed among themselves: “We hear that in the west there is someone who seems to possess virtue—we should go and see.”

Commentary: Guzhu was a state name, in the Liaoxi region. Boyi and Shuqi were brothers who had yielded the lordship to each other; hearing of King Wen’s virtue, they went to visit him. Their story is already explained in an outer chapter of the Zhuangzi.

When they reached the south of Mount Qi, King Wu heard of it and sent Shudan (the Duke of Zhou) to pay them a visit. He made a pact with them, saying: “We will raise your stipend by two grades and grant you an office; we will seal the covenant with the blood of sacrificial animals and bury the text of the agreement.”

Commentary: “South of Qi” means the southern side of Mount Qi, where King Wen had established his capital—roughly the area of present-day Fufeng. Shudan was King Wu’s younger brother, the Duke of Zhou. By then King Wen had died and King Wu had succeeded, and was preparing to attack King Zhou of Shang.

To encourage worthy scholars, the Duke of Zhou had them swear alliance oaths, raised their stipends by two grades, and granted them office; they also slaughtered animals, smeared the covenant with sacrificial blood, and buried the document beneath the altar.

The two looked at each other and smiled, saying, “How strange! This is not what we call the Dao.”

In antiquity, when Shennong ruled the realm, he performed seasonal sacrifices with reverent devotion yet never prayed for blessings. Toward the people he was loyal and trustworthy; he governed to the best of his ability and sought nothing more.

[Commentary] “祈” means to pray; “喜” means blessing. In Shennong’s age customs were simple and uncorrupted. Sacrifices in the four seasons were offered with reverent devotion; the people were loyal and trustworthy—governing well was enough, with no further demands.

Where music accompanied government, government was carried out through music; where music aided transformation, teaching was carried out through music. One must not build oneself up on others’ corruption, nor raise oneself by others’ baseness, still less use the times to seek private gain.

[Commentary] To govern is to follow the natural order, settle the people’s lives, and accord with the disposition of things. One must never treat another’s disaster as one’s own good fortune, nor wish others into danger for one’s profit.

Now the Zhou, seeing Yin in turmoil, rushed to set up government: plotting above while taking wealth below; checking military force yet upholding imposing power; slaughtering animals to seal covenants and win trust; proclaiming their own conduct to please the masses, and again seeking gain through killing and war. This was replacing Yin’s tyranny with Zhou’s disorder.

[Commentary] “遽” means hastily. The Zhou hurried to govern and denounced King Zhou’s cruelty; they plotted while accepting wealth, thereby sustaining military might; they also proclaimed their actions to please the people. One may say they replaced Yin’s tyranny with Zhou’s disorder.

I have heard that ancient scholars, in peaceful times, did not evade the duties they ought to bear; in chaotic times, they did not cling to life at all costs. Now the world is dark and Zhou virtue has waned. To go along with the Zhou would stain oneself; better to keep apart and hold to one’s integrity.

Bo Yi and Shu Qi went north to Mount Shouyang and in the end died by fasting. As for Bo Yi and Shu Qi, regarding wealth and rank—if they could have had them, they might not have refused; yet they chose to keep lofty integrity, turn against the world, rest content in their own purpose, and withdraw from affairs. Such was the moral stature of the two.

[Note] The Analects says Bo Yi and Shu Qi starved at Mount Shouyang but does not say they died. Here their death is recorded to show that they held to their fast until life’s end; they need not necessarily have died of starvation. The gist of this chapter is to commend the spirit of yielding and withdrawal. Those moved by it—even the greedy in high office—may halfway sigh in regret, to say nothing of ordinary people. Therefore Bo Yi and Shu Qi…

Those who live in seclusion in mountain valleys in this way — if one speaks of their merit in benefiting the world — are fully comparable to Ji and Qi, Yi Yin, and Lü Shang, who assisted emperors. They may not all have served as ministers to enlightened rulers, yet are they not still above those trapped in the dusty world, worn down by ceaseless toil? Their conduct is hard to imitate, but it does little harm; for that reason it can still be praised.

Someone asked: “What harm is there in the legacy left by Boyi, Shuqi, and Xu You?” The reply was: “The spirit Xu You left behind makes people feign modesty and yielding on the surface while using it to advance themselves — with outcomes as extreme as King Yan of Yan’s yielding the state to Zi Zhi. The spirit Boyi left behind lets cruel rulers tyrannize at will while others dare not resist. The spirit Yi Yin and Lü Shang left behind emboldens the greedy and overbearing throughout the realm to usurp power and rebel.”

“Only the sage acts without leaving traces, and so does not produce these harms. If the deeds of Yi Yin and Lü Shang are taken as the sage’s standard, then Boyi and Shuqi are sages in the same sense; if Boyi and Shuqi are not taken as the sage’s standard, then the deeds of Yi Yin and Lü Shang are not the sage’s deeds either. The sage follows how things run of themselves and does not deliberately leave a mark. What is called ‘sage’ means: I leave no trace, yet each thing shows its own trace. Later people see traces and force the name ‘sage’ upon them — so the word ‘sage’ points to a state in which no trace is to be found.”

Commentary: “Tu” means to stain or defile. Boyi believed that to remain alongside the Zhou would stain his integrity; better to withdraw from the world and starve on Mount Shouyang (south of Puzhou, near the Yellow River).