《天原發微》Vol. 18

The eighteenth volume, ninth chapter of Tianyuan Faxwei discusses the principle of "transformation." The movement of heaven and earth generates the two qi (vital energies) of yin and yang, whose alternation gives birth to all things, including humanity. Through continuous cultivation and transformation, humans can ultimately attain the realm of sages. Ancient scholars underwent a process of minor achievements in three years and major transformations in ten, evolving from ordinary intellectuals into sages. At its core, this cultivation involves refining one's temperament to return to the innate purity of original nature. The key to this practice lies in "reverence" (jing)—maintaining single-minded focus leads to the state of "sincerity" (cheng). When sincerity manifests, it grows increasingly evident; this clarity leads to enlightenment, which in turn inspires transformative action, culminating in a fundamental metamorphosis.

The author uses the metaphor of heaven and earth as a great furnace, where all things have flourished and perished over 64,800 years since the division of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). From the era of Yu the Great to the Yuan dynasty, spanning 3,500 years, human affairs have shifted and landscapes transformed—yet only the records in classics remain eternal. The cycle of the four seasons exemplifies this most vividly: spring turns to summer, summer to autumn, with the alternation of heat and cold continuing endlessly. Nothing escapes the law of cosmic transformation: rotten beams may sprout sesame, marsh fish can ascend as dragons, sparrows diving into water become clams, fierce birds transform into gentle turtledoves, and wildcats may evolve into leopards or tigers. Most strikingly, even sages, if they lose proper mindfulness, may descend into madness—proof that greatness can also decay.

The workings of yin and yang reveal that all things are subject to change—how much more so for humans, the most spiritual of beings? The child of a blind man may become a sage-king like Yao; a pauper can cultivate himself into a Yu the Great; even a fool in a back alley may attain enlightenment. All this demonstrates the universality and potential of transformation.

The Tianyuan Faxwei primarily discusses how humans can achieve transformation in their Qi (vital energy) constitution through self-cultivation, ultimately attaining a state of resonance with Heaven and Earth. The text points out that unworthy descendants like Danzhu and Shangjun failed to inherit their ancestors' De (Virtue/Power), while tyrants such as Jie of Xia and Zhou of Shang deviated from the sagely ways of their forebears. This illustrates that those who do not actively refine their Qi constitution betray the nurturing grace of Heaven and Earth.

The key to this transformation lies in "reverence"—maintaining a devout and focused mindset, through which sincere reverence in cultivation leads to the state of "resonating with Heaven and Earth." The path of cultivation unfolds as follows: scholars aspire to the realm of sages, sages pursue the realm of saints, and saints emulate the Dao (the Way) of Heaven. This doctrine of transformation is placed at the end of the book precisely because it represents the ultimate goal of cultivation.

Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi further elaborated on the distinction between "transformation" (bian) and "dissolution" (hua): Bian refers to sudden, visible changes, such as Yin turning into Yang, non-being giving rise to being, or softness transforming into hardness—akin to a sprout suddenly growing into branches and leaves. Hua, on the other hand, denotes gradual dissolution, such as Yang reverting to Yin, being returning to non-being, or hardness softening—like things fading away into formlessness. The mutual transformation of Yin and Yang constitutes the law of change: when Yang advances to its limit, it retreats; when Yin retreats to its limit, it advances. This dynamic of advance and retreat is the essential manifestation of transformation.

The driving force behind this process is the Dao—it is the intrinsic principle of change, while the interplay of Yin and Yang merely provides the occasion for the Dao's manifestation. The Dao is omnipresent yet unfathomable, which is why those who understand the Dao of transformation comprehend the workings of "Shen" (spirit). Shen has no fixed orientation, just as the transformations of Yin and Yang follow no fixed pattern. The Yijing (Book of Changes) reveals this principle of perpetual transformation, which lacks fixed form—precisely embodying the mysterious and unfathomable laws of change.

This passage elucidates the patterns of cosmic Yin-Yang transformation. While the cycle of four seasons appears clearly demarcated, the flow of Yin and Yang actually has no fixed form. Just as the breath of summer begins brewing when spring first arrives, and winter's signs emerge before autumn fully concludes, these transformations interweave continuously, defying rigid categorization.

Ancient scholars held two interpretations of this phenomenon: Some viewed "change" (bian) as initial transformation before complete conversion, while "transformation" (hua) represented thorough alteration leaving no trace of the original state. Others considered the return to original form as "transformation," gradual shifts as "change," and sudden alterations also as "transformation." Zhu Xi later provided more profound insights.

Using seasonal division as metaphor, Zhu Xi explained: When we artificially segment the year into four seasons, each season into three months, and each day into twelve double-hours (shi), such human demarcations constitute "change." Yin and Yang themselves flow continuously (tong) without fixed forms, yet humans comprehend their patterns through "segmentation." Like weather gradually cooling being "transformation," while the abrupt designation of autumn at the Start of Autumn solar term represents "change."

He offered several illustrations: The twelve double-hours transform gradually, yet midnight (zi hour) clearly marks a new day; celestial bodies move ceaselessly, yet people record their positional changes monthly; three hundred sixty days flow continuously, yet sages divided them into seasons. These all demonstrate how human "demarcation" helps grasp natural "transformation."

The passage concludes by emphasizing that for common people to adapt to changes without exhaustion, wise ones must first comprehend transformation patterns. As the "Regret of the Reaching Dragon" (the top line of Qian hexagram) suggests, those who don't understand adaptability face predicaments, while those who grasp transformation avoid regret. Here we see the Daoist dialectic between "following nature's course" (ziran) and "human demarcation" - revealing how Wuwei (non-action) harmonizes with conscious patterning of cosmic rhythms.

This scripture primarily expounds on the principle of following natural transformations and introduces several Daoist cultivation methods.

Regarding adaptation to change, it states: All phenomena in the world undergo constant transformation and flux, just as humans experience various circumstances including wealth, poverty, and adversity. The truly enlightened remain content in all situations. The mutual transformation of Yin-Yang energies follows natural law, and sages understand the need for adjustment when things reach their extremes. Like Emperor Yao voluntarily abdicating to Shun after seventy years of rule, or sage-kings such as King Wen and King Wu of Zhou who comprehended that prosperity inevitably gives way to decline.

The subsequent passages describe four Daoist cultivation techniques:

The first is the "Method of Immortal Lord Donghua," which involves swallowing the vital Qi (breath/energy) of the eastern direction to harmonize the entire body and eliminate the Three Corpses (Daoist concept of three malevolent spirits residing in the human body) and internal parasites.

The second is the "Celestial People's Hair-Combing Method," requiring visualization of divine sunlight and moonlight at the Muddy Pellet Palace (the upper Dantian or energy center in Daoist physiology). One must face the direction of vital Qi while swallowing breath before combing, said to restore black color to gray hair.

The third is the "Bathing and Robing Method," where during ablutions one visualizes five Jade Maidens descending from the moon with Jade Youths attending. Vital breath must be blown into the water before bathing, purportedly purifying both body and mind.

The fourth is the "Mouth-Rinsing Method," employing specific incantations and visualizations to cleanse the entire body with solar and lunar essences for purification effects.

All these methods require accompanying with the standard Daoist ritual phrase "Swiftly, swiftly, in accordance with statutes and ordinances," reflecting the Daoist approach of communicating with natural energies through specific ceremonial practices.

The Tianyuan Fawei scripture records several Daoist cultivation and protection methods, primarily involving visualization techniques (cunxiang), Qi absorption (fuqi), and incantations. Here's a plain explanation:

Regarding the "Purification from Defilement" method:

Practitioners should visualize immortal jade maidens clad in five-colored celestial robes, surrounded by divine creatures like lions and white cranes, with sunlight and moonlight illuminating water. The specific practice involves closing one's eyes to maintain this visualization while facing east to draw in primordial Qi (Yuanqi) from heaven and earth. After exhaling this Qi into water, first drink a mouthful, then use the water for ritual bathing. Tradition holds this purifies the five viscera, eradicates karmic obstacles, dispels malevolent influences, and ultimately enables ascension to the celestial palaces of the Heavenly Emperor.

The "Celestial Being's Movement Technique":

This protective ritual requires absorbing solar essence at dawn and lunar essence at dusk, exhaling them toward the left and right sides of the body respectively. It's believed to ward off evil, prevent slander and curses, and is enhanced by wearing the "Divine Tiger Talisman" (Shenhu fu) while invoking the protection of the Six Jia and Six Ding celestial generals, the Big Dipper, and the Five Thunder Deity troops.

The "Celestial Being's Robe Removal Method":

Before sleep, perform this ritual: knock the celestial bell leftward, strike the celestial chime rightward, and sound the ritual drum centerward three times each. While undressing, visualize entering the sacred realm of Taiwei Heaven (one of Daoism's Thirty-Six Heavens) where the Empyreal Sovereign resides. This practice purportedly maintains vigorous Shen (spirit) and prevents illness.

The "Celestial Being's Bedtime Incantation":

This睡前咒语 emphasizes how the body's nine orifices correspond to the nine celestial stars and nine palaces. Through cultivation, myriad internal spirits return to their proper positions, the Three Corpses (parasitic spirits believed to hasten death) are eradicated, and the five viscera become unobstructed—ultimately achieving immunity to evil influences and pure dream states. Recitation involves swallowing the Qi of longevity and sounding the ritual drum three times.

These methods embody the Daoist concept of "Heaven-Human resonance," where specific rituals mobilize cosmic energies to nurture body and mind. The text concludes by stressing that "the intercourse of heavenly and earthly Qi generates all beings," illustrating humanity's primordial origin in the union of Yin-Yang energies.

When the Qi of Heaven and Earth intermingle, one can comprehend the origin of all things. The interaction between celestial Qi (Yang Qi) and terrestrial Qi (Yin Qi) manifests in humans as males and in animals as males; the interaction between terrestrial Qi and celestial Qi manifests in humans as females and in animals as females. The mutual union of male and female, masculine and feminine, gives rise to endless transformations.

Both humans and all beings originate from the Qi of Heaven and Earth, responding and transforming according to its fluctuations. Humans receive the most balanced Qi (Zhong Qi) from Heaven and Earth, enabling them to resonate with the Qi of all directions, while other beings receive partial Qi, each transforming according to their respective affinities. Thus, by observing the intermingling of Heaven and Earth's Qi, one can understand the initial formation of humans and all things; by observing their resonance, one can grasp the principle of mutual generation among all beings.

Heaven and Earth are tangible existences, and their union is manifested through Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth). When Qian and Kun do not interact directly, their union occurs through Kan (Water) and Li (Fire). This profound principle can only be comprehended by those who truly understand the Dao.

The Qi of a single day divides into twelve double-hours, the Qi of a month into thirty days, and the Qi of a year into twelve months. All beings receive their corresponding Qi, relying on this endowment to connect with the Qi of Heaven and Earth and obtain the root of perpetual life. Humans, having received the most balanced Qi from Heaven and Earth, can synchronize with its cyclical movements and gather the Qi of all things within themselves. This is why humans are nobler than Heaven and Earth and more spiritually endowed than all other beings. Those who master the laws of Heaven and Earth's operation and grasp its pivotal points to apply them become equal to Heaven and Earth.

Humans have round heads corresponding to the celestial dome and square feet corresponding to the earth. They face south with their backs to the north, with the left representing the east and the right the west. Their keen hearing and sharp vision, their upright posture in every gesture, all place them at the center of Heaven and Earth, aligned with the Zi (North) and Wu (South) directions. The ethical principles of ruler and subject, father and son, and the moral virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are all rooted in the heart and manifested outwardly. Those who receive clear, upright, and unobstructed Qi become sages, while those who receive turbid, partial, and obstructed Qi become ignorant. People near the east tend to be benevolent and gentle, while those near the west tend to be resolute and upright—all due to the different Qi they receive.

The Yidi (ancient term for frontier peoples), though also human, are fierce and lacking in propriety because they inhabit extremely remote regions and receive particularly skewed Qi. This is due to their Qi endowment, not an inherent difference in nature. Humans are born upright, animals lie horizontally, and plants grow sideways—horizontally oriented beings receive the most partial Qi.

This scripture primarily discusses the directional attributes of heaven, earth, and all things in relation to the movement of Yin-Yang Qi (vital energy). The text points out that when facing west, one's back faces heaven while the feet tread upon earth—even in this oblique orientation, the Dao of humaneness and righteousness is embedded. The east governs benevolence (Ren) and virtue (De), while the west governs righteousness (Yi) and principle, corresponding to the Mao (east) and You (west) directions. Though birds fly horizontally, their heads are held high, differing slightly from land animals, yet they similarly follow the pattern of receiving benevolent Qi from the east and righteous Qi from the west.

Scaled creatures (like fish and snakes) and hairy insects represent the gradual deepening of earthly Qi. Side-growing organisms absorb terrestrial energy—those in the northwest are strong and firm, while those in the southeast are gentle and yielding. All things under heaven adhere to this principle. The dragon (Canglong) resides in the true east, while the tiger (Baihu) dwells in the true west. The Shuowen Jiezi records that the qilin is an eastern benevolent beast, and the zouyu is a western benevolent beast—creatures imbued with eastern Qi grow horns (like oxen and sheep) and have gentle temperaments, while those influenced by western Qi grow sharp teeth (like wolves and jackals) and exhibit fierce dispositions.

Western land animals are mostly nocturnal, whereas eastern land animals rest at night—only the dragon is exempt from this restriction, being a divine creature. Birds can fly because their Yang Qi is closer to heaven than to earth, and they must leap upward before taking flight: eastern birds (like pheasants) are small and fly low, while large phoenixes (Luanfeng) can soar straight into the clouds. Western birds (like pigeons and cranes) dive downward when flying, and ducks can even plunge into water. From the Xu hour (northwest) to the You hour (west), earthly Qi gradually sinks, while from the Yin hour (northeast) to the Mao hour (east), it rises—hence the west abounds with armored, dormant insects (like turtles), while the east teems with scaly, feathered creatures adept at transformation (like fish and snakes). All these phenomena result from the ascending and descending interplay of Yin-Yang energies.

Plants absorb earthly Qi, so their roots grow downward—the opposite of humans, whose heads face heaven. Eastern vegetation is pliant (flourishing in spring and summer), while western plants are rigid (thriving in autumn and winter). Branches and leaves incline toward shade and cling close to the ground, which is why land animals often rest beneath trees and nibble on their foliage.

Tall trees reach toward the heavens, providing perches for birds to roost and fruits to peck—this is the natural order of things. The three directions of Hai, Zi, and Chou (corresponding to north and northeast) do not foster growth, while all other directions nurture myriad beings. Precisely because these three directions remain barren, Heaven and Earth can cycle endlessly in self-renewal, allowing the cosmos to endure eternally while life proliferates without cease. Consider winter in the annual cycle, the moon's waning and waxing each month, or nightfall in the daily rhythm—these all manifest the Dao's operational patterns.

Zhang Guanwu (a Song Dynasty Yijing scholar) elucidates: Human lifespan is measured in centuries. Viewed through the lens of Yin Qi's expansion, each passing year adds one to longevity; yet through the waning of Yang Qi, each year simultaneously deducts one from life's tally.

Heaven (Yang) initiates creation through odd numbers (1, 3, 5, 7, 9). From the Zi hour (11 PM-1 AM) to Si hour (9-11 AM), Yang Qi expands from six parts to nine—a gradual increase marking Yang's ascent and Yin's retreat, with vital energy rising upward. When Yang grows beneath (as Yin-within-Yang), this "Yang's initial division" establishes life's predetermined limit. Dispersed Yang becomes empty—this emptiness is Yin; when Yang reaches its zenith, Yin is born.

Earth (Yin) completes the cycle through even numbers (2, 4, 6, 8, 10). From Wu hour (11 AM-1 PM) to Hai hour (9-11 PM), Yang diminishes from nine parts to six—a gradual decrease showing Yin's ascent and Yang's retreat, with energy descending downward. When Yin grows above (as Yang-within-Yin), it fulfills subtle predetermined measures. Concentrated Yin becomes substantial—this substance is Yang; when Yin peaks, Yang is born.

Yang first establishes the great limit, much like humanity's century-spanning lifespan being predetermined. Yin arrives to deplete Yang—eroding the established Yang measure. Viewed materially through Yin's quantity, each year seemingly adds one to age; yet measured energetically through Yang's substance, each year actually subtracts one. Thus we say Yang's arrival brings life, Yang's departure brings death—though in truth Yang never leaves, but rather exhausts its predetermined measure through Yin's consumption.

Zhu Xi remarks: Speech values sequential logic. Without proper ordering, words cannot accomplish their purpose. The Hexagram Gen's fifth line states "stillness in the jaws"—meaning disciplined speech that flows orderly, making comprehension and implementation effortless, leaving no room for regret.

Though Jia Yi of Han possessed towering talent and majestic prose, his constricted temperament led him to expound incompletely understood matters with impatient, disjointed urgency—losing all rhetorical progression. No wonder his proposals met opposition from veterans like Zhou Bo and Guan Ying, while Emperor Wen's polite demurral left his ambitions unfulfilled. Contrast this with Han Xin, Deng Yu, and Zhuge Liang—all masters of methodical discourse...

This scripture primarily explores the relationship between humans and all things, as well as the principles of social governance.

First, it explains the positional relationships of the hexagrams "Xian" (咸卦) and "Gen" (艮卦): In the Xian hexagram, the top line of the Dui trigram symbolizes the mouth, while in the Gen hexagram, the third yang line (九三) represents the heart. Thus, the fifth yin line serves as an auxiliary. Shao Yong (邵子) believed that humans surpass all other beings in intelligence because our eyes can observe the colors of all things, our ears can hear their sounds, our noses discern their scents, and our mouths taste their flavors. These sensory functions allow humans to comprehensively understand the world.

The text points out that colors, sounds, and scents are the essential characteristics of all things, while human senses are the tools for perceiving them. When the subject (human) interacts with the object (all things), a complete system of worldly cognition is formed. Everything in the world follows its own patterns, nature, and destiny, and only through deep investigation can they be fully understood. If one can observe the world through the eyes of all people and listen with the ears of all people, their understanding will become all-encompassing. In this way, one can comprehend the hearts of all people with a single mind, observe all bodies through one body, recognize all things through one thing, and infer the changes of all ages from a single era. True observation is not done with the eyes but with the heart; it is not based on subjective judgment but follows objective principles. When all things are observed in stillness, their true nature is revealed. From the perspective of Heaven and Earth, all things have their unique characteristics; from the perspective of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate, 太极), the cosmic origin, Heaven and Earth are merely ordinary phenomena. If one fully masters the Dao of Taiji, they can encompass Heaven and Earth, bring all things to fulfillment, and wield the power of creation in their own hands.

The second part discusses social governance: When the world is on the path to order, people will inevitably value practical action and righteousness (道义); when the world descends into chaos, people will inevitably prioritize empty talk and self-interest. Valuing practical action fosters a culture of diligence, while valuing empty talk breeds deceit. Valuing righteousness cultivates a spirit of humility and yielding, while valuing self-interest leads to strife and disorder. The sage kings of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties (三代) upheld practical action and aligned themselves with righteousness, whereas the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period (春秋五霸) indulged in empty rhetoric and fell into self-interest. The governance of the Three Dynasties was always rooted in human ethics and virtue (人伦道德), while their periods of disorder invariably arose from the violation of these principles.

This passage from Tianyuan Fawei primarily discusses the relationship between human ethics and the rise and fall of governance, as well as the importance of cultivating the mind.

It first points out that undermining ethical principles is to deviate from the Dao (the Way). Abandoning human ethics leads to barbarism. Historically, no dynasty killed more people than the Qin. Yet killing does not always require swords—when people have no way forward, even without blades, it amounts to the same destruction.

Zhu Xi emphasized the critical importance of the sixteen-character teaching: "The human mind and the mind of the Dao (the Way) must be refined and unified, holding faithfully to the mean." The safety and peril, order and chaos, rise and decline of both individuals and the entire world hinge upon this principle. From Yao, Shun, and Yu to Tang of Shang, Kings Wen and Wu of Zhou, and down to Confucius and Mencius, this was the transmitted wisdom. The prolonged stability of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties arose because people anchored their minds in this teaching, and states governed by it. However, after Mencius passed away, this learning was lost, and utilitarian thinking prevailed. Over the fifteen centuries from the Han to the Tang, society resembled a leaky house patched up repeatedly. Though brief periods of stability occurred, the true Dao transmitted by Yao, Shun, Yu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius was never fully restored.

Today, scholars with even modest talent refuse to engage in earnest study, dismissing the disciplined work of sages and instead chasing superficial achievements, even mocking Confucians who adhere to tradition. This is precisely why the Dao remains obscured and moral decline persists.

Zhu Xi further noted that the difference between noble individuals (junzi) and petty ones (xiaoren) initially lies in the slightest divergence of thought. Following heavenly principle (tianli) elevates one upward (shangda), while indulging human desires (renyu) drags one downward (xiada). Like two people falling into water—the initial gap is minuscule, but the disparity widens until, in the end, even intelligence cannot reverse the outcome.

Finally, Confucius’ words are cited: Those born with knowledge are the highest; those who learn to know are the next; those who study only when troubled rank after; and those who remain ignorant despite hardship are the lowest. Those of middle and higher capacity may discuss profound truths, but only the wisest and most foolish are hardest to change. Ban Gu observed that since the advent of written records, we have heard the teachings of ancient sages—all preserved in the classics.

This scripture primarily discusses the hierarchical classification of ancient emperors and sages. The text notes that while the deeds of rulers prior to Emperor Yao and Emperor Shun of the Tang and Yu dynasties are difficult to verify, various philosophical schools have recorded them extensively, aiming to highlight virtuous conduct and expose wickedness as admonitions for later generations.

The author categorizes historical figures into three types: sages like Yao, Shun, Yu, and Houji, who exclusively pursued good and avoided evil, are termed "the supremely wise" (shangzhi); tyrants like Jie of Xia and Zhou of Shang, who embraced wickedness and rejected virtue, are labeled "the utterly foolish" (xiayu); and rulers like Duke Huan of Qi—capable of achieving hegemony under Guan Zhong’s guidance yet also susceptible to corruption by Shu Diao—are classified as "the middling" (zhongren).

The text then elaborates on the highest rank among the nine-tiered hierarchy: the "supreme sages" (shangshang shengren). This group includes the Three Sovereigns (Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor), the Five Emperors (Shaohao, Zhuanxu, Emperor Ku, Yao, and Shun), the Three Kings (Yu, Tang, King Wen and King Wu of Zhou), as well as the Duke of Zhou, who established rites and music, and Confucius, the synthesizer of tradition. The author affirms Ban Gu’s (of the Ban family) inclusion of these fourteen figures as supreme sages but critiques his classification of the remaining eight ranks for inconsistencies in criteria and disordered sequencing.

Finally, two contentious cases are noted: Laozi, though revered by Confucius as a teacher, was excluded from the sage category; the father of Wenbo, a master of ritual praised by sages, was placed in the fourth tier; and Tian Dan, famed for the defense of Jimo, also faced disputed ranking. These examples illustrate the lack of uniform standards in historical figure evaluation.

This passage primarily examines the differences in human character and social status, which can be understood through several key points:

The text begins by contrasting the fates of several historical figures: Lu Zhonglian (a renowned Warring States scholar) was erudite yet indifferent to fame and wealth; Lin Xiangru (a Zhao state minister) intimidated the Qin king with his courage yet willingly deferred to Lian Po; the people of Chen state's excessive worship led to rampant improper sacrifices; Mencius compromised orthodox principles to preserve himself; while Lao Ai (a Qin dynasty eunuch) committed unspeakable debauchery in the palace. These examples illustrate how life circumstances vary dramatically.

It then cites Shao Yong's (Northern Song Neo-Confucian philosopher) hierarchical classification of humanity into sixteen grades - from emperors at the pinnacle to commoners at the base - demonstrating vast disparities in wisdom and virtue. He considered humans the most spiritual beings in creation, with sages representing humanity's highest manifestation. One sage's worth equals millions of ordinary people, just as a rare treasure surpasses countless mundane objects. Among the populace exist both insignificant commoners and leaders capable of governing multitudes, reflecting nature's spectrum of capacity and virtue.

Shao Yong further categorized people into three tiers: the highest possess innate goodness requiring no instruction; the middle can be improved through education; while the lowest remain incorrigible despite teaching. Those naturally virtuous are sages (shengren), those perfected through teaching are worthies (xianren), and the unteachable are fools (yuren). Education only benefits the educable - for the hopeless, mere warnings may prevent evil deeds. Virtuous people are called auspicious persons (jiren), while the wicked are inauspicious (xiongren). The truly virtuous won't even glance at wickedness.

(Note: Special terms like "worship of ghosts and spirits" and proper names like "Master Shao" are preserved with contextual explanations added.)

This scripture primarily discusses how to distinguish between virtuous and wicked individuals, and the influence of environment on human character.

Regarding principles of conduct: One should not look at improper sights, listen to improper sounds, speak improper words, or go to improper places. In social interactions, one should choose companions who follow the Dao (the Way), and decline gifts that contradict moral principles. Seeking the company of virtuous people should be as urgent as seeking water when thirsty, while avoiding wickedness should be as cautious as evading traps. Moral character should be as firm as metal and stone, as steady as mountains, with demeanor as elegant as the phoenix and temperament as fragrant as orchids. If such a person isn't called "auspicious" (blessed), then who could possibly deserve the title?

The characteristics of "inauspicious" (ill-omened) people include harsh and impatient speech, craving empty fame, indulging in wine and lust, detesting upright individuals, rejoicing in others' misfortunes, treating good people as enemies, and breaking laws as casually as going to sleep. Such people lightly harm themselves and forfeit their lives; severely, they bring ruin to their entire lineage. If these aren't called "inauspicious" people, then who could possibly deserve the title?

The Book of Changes states: Without accumulating good deeds, one cannot achieve honorable reputation; without accumulating evil deeds, one won't incur self-destruction. Zhang Nanxian (Southern Song Confucian scholar) categorized people into three grades: the highest grade cannot be corrupted, the lowest cannot be improved, while those who truly influence society are usually the middle grade. When gentlemen gather in court, the middle grade will incline toward goodness; when petty men gain power, the middle grade will be led astray. Shao Yong (Northern Song philosopher) observed: During the eras of Yao and Shun, wicked people found it hard to commit evil; during King Zhou's tyranny, virtuous people found it hard to practice goodness. This demonstrates environment's profound influence on people, with leadership being the crucial factor.

Regarding human nature debates: Cheng Yi (Northern Song philosopher) said "human natures are similar, but habits make them diverge," referring to temperament-nature (acquired character) rather than original-nature (innate disposition). Zhang Zai (Northern Song philosopher) believed physical form gives rise to temperament-nature, but returning to authenticity preserves Heaven-Earth-nature (original pure goodness). Zhu Xi (Southern Song philosopher) added: Human temperaments vary in quality, with some incorrigibly foolish individuals. Mencius' theory of innate goodness, Cheng Yi's concept of ultimate-origin-nature, and Zhang Zai's notion of universal-origin-nature all refer to humanity's pure original goodness before birth.

This passage explores the complex relationship between human nature and individual temperament. The nature bestowed by Heaven and Earth is pure and perfectly good, like uncontaminated clear water—this is what we call "heaven-endowed nature" (humanity's innate essence). However, when this nature descends into concrete individuals, it becomes mixed with "temperament" (one's innate disposition and acquired characteristics).

Temperament is like the vessel holding water—some are clean, others tainted; some upright, others crooked. Because each person receives a different temperament—some inclined toward benevolence, others toward righteousness; some clear and bright, others turbid and dim; some profound, others shallow—the manifested character varies immensely. This is why Gaozi spoke of "life as nature," Chengzi of "inborn temperament," Xunzi advocated "human nature as evil," Yang Xiong believed in "mixed good and evil," and Han Yu proposed "three grades of nature." All these theories are actually describing concrete human nature as influenced by temperament.

Cheng Yi pointed out that discussing nature without addressing temperament is incomplete; conversely, focusing solely on temperament while ignoring the original goodness of nature—as Xunzi and Yang Xiong did—deviates from the true meaning of Confucius and Mencius. It wasn't until the Song Dynasty Neo-Confucian Zhou Dunyi (Master Lianxi) that this principle was clarified anew. Just as Zhang Zai (Master Hengqu) distinguished between heaven-endowed nature and temperamental nature, unifying various schools of thought.

To elaborate: When Wood Qi (vital energy) flourishes, Metal Qi weakens—such individuals often exhibit abundant benevolence but lack righteousness. Conversely, when Metal Qi dominates, Wood Qi diminishes, manifesting as strong righteousness with less benevolence. These differences stem from temperamental variations. To return to original nature, one must practice what Zisi called "the equilibrium before emotions arise"—maintaining inner clarity and stillness, undisturbed by distracting thoughts. In this state, the pure and perfectly good nature of Heaven and Earth is revealed.

This scripture primarily explores the relationship between Qi (referring to human temperament and innate endowment) and Li (referring to heavenly principle and inherent nature), as well as the question of human nature's goodness and evil.

Although human temperament may deviate, heavenly principle itself remains upright and luminous. Temperament may fluctuate in strength, but heavenly principle does not change accordingly. When a person interacts with the external world, temperament is activated, and heavenly principle also manifests; or when heavenly principle manifests, temperament participates as well. At this point, the supreme goodness of heavenly principle is influenced by temperament, and thus the distinction between good and evil arises.

The ancient masters (referring to earlier scholars) once said: Before thoughts arise, temperament has not yet come into play, so at this stage, there is only goodness and no evil. Regarding the saying "human nature is similar at birth, but habits make them diverge": In the normal state, those with inherently good natures become increasingly noble through habitual good deeds, while those with inherently evil natures become increasingly depraved through habitual evil deeds. In terms of transformation, those with inherently good natures may lose their goodness through habitual evil deeds, while those with inherently evil natures may rid themselves of evil through habitual good deeds. These four scenarios begin very similarly but ultimately diverge greatly.

Master Cheng (Cheng Yi) believed that human nature is originally good, but talent can be divided into "the lowest foolishness" (extreme dullness). The lowest foolishness comes in two types: those who are self-destructive and those who are self-abandoning. If a person persists in pursuing goodness, even the most foolish can improve. However, the self-destructive reject belief in the Dao of goodness, and the self-abandoning know what is good but refuse to act upon it—even sages cannot transform them. Confucius's reference to the lowest foolishness does not mean they are truly unintelligent; for example, King Zhou of Shang (Shang Xin) was actually very intelligent but extremely tyrannical. The sages called them the lowest foolish because they actively cut off their own path to goodness. Zhu Xi added: The self-destructive are stubborn in attitude, denying ritual and righteousness; the self-abandoning are weak in character, knowing ritual and righteousness are good but failing to practice them.

Master Zhang (Zhang Zai) held that when virtue (De) cannot overcome temperament, life and nature are governed by temperament; when virtue overcomes temperament, life and nature are guided by virtue. By exhaustively investigating heavenly principle and fully developing one's nature, one can align their nature with heavenly virtue (Tian De) and their destiny with heavenly principle. Among the aspects of temperament that cannot be changed are life and death, longevity and premature death—hence the saying "life and death are decreed by fate" refers to temperament, while "wealth and honor depend on heaven" refers to heavenly principle.

This scripture primarily explores the relationship between human moral cultivation and heavenly mandate (天命). The core view is that virtuous individuals will inevitably receive heaven's favor.

Master Lü (Lü Zuqian) believed that the purpose of a noble person's (君子) study lies in transforming their innate Qi (气) constitution. If virtue (德) can overcome innate endowments, then the dull may become wise, and the weak may become strong. Conversely, if virtue cannot surpass innate qualities, even with the will to learn, one cannot fundamentally change dullness or weakness. Human nature is originally good without evil - this is universality; but the innate endowments of wisdom/dullness and strength/weakness vary - these are individual differences. Cultivating virtue means returning to universality while transforming individuality.

To alter unfavorable endowments requires hundredfold effort. If one studies carelessly, intermittently, and ultimately fails to change while claiming "my innate endowment is poor, study is useless," this is actually self-abandonment and highly improper.

"The great virtue (大德) must receive the mandate" means: virtue is heavenly principle (天理). Master Cheng (Cheng Yi) said that fulfilling the heavenly mandate is comprehending heavenly principle. Receiving due reward is normal; not receiving it is abnormal. Though the heavenly mandate cannot be changed, virtuous people can alter their destiny. For example: prolonging life through cultivation, obtaining blessings through prayer, or ordinary people becoming sages - all follow this principle.

Master Hou (Hou Zhongliang) gave examples: Shun's rise from commoner to emperor accorded with heavenly principle, while Jie's fall from emperor to commoner violated it. Heaven doesn't specially assist Shun or punish Jie - this is natural law. Other matters can be understood by analogy.

Zhu Xi supplemented: Transformation isn't achieved overnight. Like moral cultivation - at thirty one "stands firm" (而立), not by suddenly achieving it at thirty, but through gradual accumulation from fifteen when first determined to study, progressing through stages of "no confusion" (不惑), "knowing destiny" (知命), and "docile ear" (耳顺), ultimately reaching the state of "following the heart's desires" (从心所欲).

Master Hu (Hu Hong) explained: Confucius at fifteen determined to study the "Great Learning" (大学) way - namely the principles of self-cultivation, family regulation, state governance, and world pacification.

(Note: The "Great Learning" refers to the Confucian classic, unrelated to modern educational institutions; terms like "no confusion" and "knowing destiny" come from the Analects' famous description of Confucius' life stages)

Confucius established his life direction at thirty, which meant taking the world as his home, standing firmly in the position of the right path, practicing the great Dao of the world with unwavering determination. By forty, he was free from confusion because wealth and honor could not make him indulgent, poverty and low status could not alter his aspirations, and force could not bend his will—he stood transcendent above all things.

At fifty, he understood the Mandate of Heaven (Tianming), comprehending the four heavenly virtues of "origination, prosperity, harmony, and perseverance" (the four qualities of the Qian hexagram). His conduct was open and upright, harmonizing with all things, each finding its proper place without disorder. By sixty, he could naturally understand everything he heard because all he had experienced had transformed into wisdom, and what remained within him was the divine (Shen), nearly in communion with the Heavenly Dao. At seventy, he could follow his heart's desires without overstepping boundaries, because his actions were all in accordance with the Dao of Heaven.

Zigong said: If the Master were to govern a state, his "establishment" would mean setting up institutions, his "Dao" would mean implementing education, his "pacification" would mean comforting the people, and his "action" would mean harmonizing all parties—is this not what Heaven accomplishes? I believe the learning of a sage is as limitless as Heaven itself, like establishing a foundation for ten thousand years.

The sage's cultivation of learning proceeds in stages: the first thirty years are divided into two phases. The first fifteen years are spent studying the "learning of the great person" (the way of sages and worthies) to expand his aspirations, followed by another fifteen years of steadfast practice, solidifying what he has learned and achieving results. After that, each decade marks a new stage of gradual progress. At forty, being "free from confusion" is a step beyond the "establishment" at thirty, enabling a thorough understanding of the principles of things. At fifty, "knowing the Mandate of Heaven" surpasses being "free from confusion," as the mind becomes attuned to the Mandate. By sixty, "understanding everything heard" comes naturally, and by seventy, "following the heart's desires without overstepping boundaries" means effortlessly aligning with the Dao of Heaven.

This entire process resembles the learning of the great person as symbolized by the Qian hexagram (representing Heaven): the first thirty years lay the foundation, while the next thirty gradually reach the state of acting freely yet never transgressing. Maintaining firm aspirations is "dedicated learning," distancing from evil and preserving sincerity is "establishment," understanding beginnings and ends is "freedom from confusion," the mind resonating with the Heavenly Dao is "understanding everything heard," and ultimately embodying the principles of the Dao is "not overstepping boundaries." Thus, it is said that a true great person (sage) is one with Heaven and Earth.

This passage elucidates the principle of humanity's connection with Heaven (natural law). Moral cultivation should emulate the luminous regularity of the sun and moon's movement, follow the orderly progression of the four seasons, and harmonize with the auspicious and inauspicious transformations of the spiritual forces (natural energies). Such a state cannot be attained in a single day—thus Confucius' teachings are considered the great learning of sages who model themselves after the Dao of Heaven.

Some mistakenly believe the sage's teachings to be mere conventional exhortations. Zhu Xi refuted this, clarifying that sages do not speak humbly out of assumed perfection. Two crucial cultivation practices are emphasized here: First, "attaining genuine knowledge" (zhizhi), which marks the threshold from ignorance to awakening; second, "sincerity of heart and rectification of intention" (chengxin zhengyi), the boundary distinguishing good from evil. Transcending the former leads to enlightenment—failure leaves one in delusion; mastering the latter enables goodness—its absence leads to wrongdoing.

Heaven and humanity are fundamentally united. At birth, humans receive Heavenly principle (Tianli), which continues to reside within them. Every word, action, perception and experience manifests this Heavenly principle. One must constantly remember the luminous nature endowed by Heaven, keeping this truth ever present. Beginners should comprehend Heavenly principle through concrete affairs—performing daily tasks with utmost excellence naturally leads to understanding the Dao. Human life combines principle (Tianli) and Qi (vital energy)—all thoughts and actions represent Qi's movement containing Heavenly principle. Zhen Dexiu (Master Xishan) observed: Exhaustive study of Heavenly principle emphasizes cognition to investigate the essence of all things; practicing one's nature emphasizes action to embody all Heavenly principles. Perfecting both cognition and action leads to the realm of "mandate" (Tianming).

Hu Hong (Master Wufeng) proposed: Human nature encompasses all virtuous qualities, forming the foundation of heaven, earth and all things. Like spring water that never freezes at its source, virtuous individuals never lose their way in adversity. As moonlight continues after sunset, though Confucius passed, his Dao lineage continued through Mencius.

Zhou Dunyi outlined cultivation stages: Sages emulate Heaven's Dao, worthies emulate sages, and scholars emulate worthies. For instance, the worthy minister Yi Yin considered it shameful if his ruler couldn't match sage-kings Yao and Shun, feeling the people's suffering as personal punishment; while Yan Hui (Yan Yuan) achieved the state of never transferring anger to others, maintaining virtue without violating benevolence over extended periods.

This passage elucidates the Confucian path of self-cultivation to attain sagehood. Yi Yin (the virtuous minister of Shang Dynasty) and Yan Hui (Confucius' most accomplished disciple) represent two distinct paradigms of cultivation.

To become a sage or achieve the state of cosmic harmony, one must first learn from worthy exemplars. When Yi Yin tilled the fields at Xin, his contentment in poverty while upholding the Dao (the Way) already embodied Yan Hui's scholarly cultivation. Similarly, Yan Hui dwelling in humble alleys yet harboring governance aspirations manifested Yi Yin's noble ambitions. Had their circumstances been reversed, both worthies would have demonstrated identical conduct.

Authentic cultivation requires: establishing practical aspirations and studying earnestly without self-deception; practicing filial piety and fraternal love to maintain familial harmony; demonstrating loyalty and integrity to become a community exemplar; and fulfilling official duties conscientiously. What matters are tangible virtuous deeds rather than empty reputation. Through such steadfast practice, one progressively attains the realms of worthies, sages, and ultimately cosmic beings.

Cheng Yi observed: When humaneness (ren) fills heaven and earth, all things flourish naturally; when it recedes, the cosmos becomes obstructed and worthies withdraw. Zhu Xi further explained: Extending the principle of "do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire" - from family to state and ultimately the world - enables all beings to find their proper place. As Mencius taught, the key lies in expanding the innate goodness of one's original mind and retrieving the wandering heart. When humaneness cannot be extended, it's like encountering obstacles the moment one steps outside, making progress impossible.

This scripture elucidates the essential cultivation methods of "reverence" (jing) and "righteousness" (yi). Reverence (referring to a state of focused veneration within the mind) serves to rectify inner cultivation, while righteousness (referring to principles of conduct aligned with the Dao) governs external behavior. As Zhu Xi remarked, these eight characters alone could sustain a lifetime of practice: when the mind maintains reverence, it becomes upright; when actions follow righteousness, they become squared with the Dao.

To elaborate:

• When reverence overcomes laxity, auspiciousness follows; when laxity overwhelms reverence, decline ensues. When righteousness triumphs over selfish desires, smooth progress results; when desires overpower righteousness, misfortune arises. Reverence invigorates the spirit (shen), while laxity weakens one's willpower.
• Acting in accordance with heavenly principles constitutes "righteousness," whereas yielding to personal cravings constitutes "desire." Reverence without the guidance of righteousness leads to errors in action; emphasizing righteousness without cultivating reverence is like a tree without roots. Both must be cultivated in tandem.
• "Reverence to straighten the inner" (jing yi zhi nei) refers to the inner cultivation practice of maintaining mirror-like clarity. "Righteousness to square the outer" (yi yi fang wai) represents the worldly wisdom of acting with knife-edge precision. Even during seated meditation, one must examine whether reverence is preserved; in daily activities and social interactions, constant vigilance is required.

The text critiques two common deviations: some focus solely on seated meditation seeking stillness, yet become flustered when encountering affairs; others concentrate exclusively on practical matters while neglecting fundamental cultivation. True practice requires unifying inner and outer aspects, exemplified by Emperor Yao who began with the most basic principle—"never be irreverent" (wu bu jing)—to attain the state of heaven-human unity. Both Cheng Yi and Fan Zuyu emphasized that the core of all ritual propriety lies in "never being irreverent"—this constitutes reverence toward heaven and the foundation of self-cultivation.

The "Canon of Yao," as the earliest classic, begins by recounting the virtue (De) of Emperor Yao. The character "qin" (reverent caution) is most crucial—throughout the sage's myriad teachings, whether addressing major affairs or minor matters, the foundation always lies in this principle of "reverence." One must first gather and settle their spirit (Shen), maintaining focused attention, for only then can they thoroughly comprehend the Dao. From this, they may cultivate the self, harmonize the family, and ultimately extend this attitude to governing the world.

Though "reverence" is intangible, it manifests in gathering the body-mind and eliminating distractions. Just as Daoism advocates seated meditation (jingzuo) for cultivation, Master Li (likely a Daoist patriarch) also emphasized the necessity of meditation to collect the spirit (Shen). Only then, when encountering affairs, will one possess sufficient spiritual strength. True "reverence" is a state that permeates both stillness and activity. Scholar Zhen used winter as a metaphor: if the Yang Qi in winter is not securely stored—if the weather remains warm and snowless—the Yang Qi of the following year will weaken, and the harvest of the Five Phases (Wuxing) will suffer. The human heart-mind is the same: if thoughts are scattered during stillness, how can one act with proper measure in movement?

Zhou Dunyi advocated "prioritizing stillness" as the foundation, while Cheng Yi emphasized "prioritizing reverence"—their principles are interconnected. Master Hu of Wuyi (Hu Hong) stated that one must practice the character "reverence" for ten years before gaining insight. Zhu Xi observed that the movement of heaven and earth seems to follow a governing principle, and this orderly transformation reflects the "reverence" of the cosmos. King Tang of Shang was able to match the Lord on High precisely because he began with "daily advancement in sagely reverence."

Lü Zuqian (Master Donglai) pointed out that "reverence" is the primary mental method transmitted by sages through the ages—the fundamental practice of sagely learning. The "Testamentary Charge" records that the subtle teachings of the Duke of Zhou were only transmitted to King Cheng on his deathbed; likewise, Confucius's profound learning was passed to Zengzi at the end of his life, who then transmitted it to Meng Jingzi—all these transmissions centered on "reverence." Sages possess the complete state of the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji) and need no deliberate cultivation, yet they still maintain reverence—how much more should we, as learners, do so?

To understand this principle and embody it is the path of the noble person toward auspiciousness; to violate it is the way of the petty person toward misfortune. Whether one cultivates or strays hinges on maintaining reverence or indulging the self. Holding to reverence reduces selfish desires and clarifies heavenly principle (Tianli). As selfish desires diminish until fully extinguished, one may hope to attain the realm of sagely learning. Thus, Zhu Xi remarked that Master Cheng Yi's greatest contribution to later scholars was his singular emphasis on this character "reverence." How could seekers of learning not take this as their own exhortation?