《淮南鴻烈解》Vol. 12

Huainan Honglie Jie, Volume 12, Jingshen Xun (Vernacular Explanation)

Explanation of the Chapter Title: This chapter takes “Jingshen” as its title. Jing (essence) refers to the Jingqi (essence and vital energy) of the human body; Shen (spirit) refers to the Shenming (spirit illumination) that governs body and mind. It explains their meaning from the root source, hence the chapter title “Jingshen.”

Before Heaven and Earth had formed, there was only the image of Hundun (chaos), with no concrete form as yet. (The ancients imagined: before Heaven and Earth came into being, there was first formless Qi; Qi then transformed to produce the myriad things with form, and thus Heaven and Earth were established.) At that time it was dark and obscure, vast and indistinct, blended and chaotic, so deep as to be unfathomable; no one could say where that “gate” was. (All these terms describe the primal Qi that had not yet taken form; the commentary uses homophones to indicate pronunciation, and the overall meaning is: everything was a formless image, hence it says “no one knows its gate.”)

There were the two Shen of Yin-Yang, which transformed and were born together, ordering Heaven and laying out Earth. (“Two Shen” means the Shen of the two Qi of Yin and Yang; “hun sheng” means born at the same time.) Deep and boundless, no one knows its end; vast and expansive, no one knows where it stops.

Thereupon Yin-Yang were separated and distinguished, dispersed to become the limits of the eight directions (the ends of the eight directions); hardness and softness assisted each other, and only then did the myriad things each receive form and substance. (“Li” means to separate; hardness and softness are Yin and Yang.) The turbid and disordered Qi transformed into insects and creatures; the clear and refined Qi transformed into human beings. Therefore, Jingshen belongs to what Heaven governs, and the “bones” (skeletal form) belongs to what Earth governs. Jing and Shen enter the Heavenly Gate; the bones return to their root. (Jing and Shen are formless, so they can enter the Heavenly Gate; the bones have form, so they return to the root in earth.) Where then does the “I” remain? (Meaning: at death each has its destination; why cling to the “I” as enduring?)

Thus the sage models himself on Heaven and follows his true dispositions; he is not bound by conventional routines and is not deluded by human feelings. He takes Heaven as father and Earth as mother, Yin-Yang as the guiding cord and the four seasons as the order. Heaven is quiet and clear; Earth is settled and peaceful. The myriad things lose this and die; they model this and live. Quiet and vast stillness is where Shenming dwells; empty nothingness is where the Dao rests. Those who chase outward lose inwardly; those who only guard the inner lose outwardly. It is like root and branch: if one pulls from the root, thousands of branches and myriad leaves follow.

Note: This section belongs to the opening of the “Jingshen Xun” in the Huainanzi. It discusses the generation of the cosmos from formless Qi to Yin-Yang, the myriad things, and human form, and then brings out the sage’s stance of modeling Heaven and maintaining quiet emptiness and nothingness. The parenthetical notes were originally phonetic and semantic annotations by Han Confucians such as Xu Shen; in this vernacular explanation they have been incorporated as appropriate, not transcribed item by item.

A Vernacular Reading of the Huainan Honglie Jie

There is nothing that does not follow this principle. Jing-Shen (spirit) is what is endowed by Heaven, and physical form is what is received from Earth. Therefore it is said: the One produces the Two, the Two produces the Three, and the Three produces the ten thousand things.

Here the “One” is sometimes said to be the Dao; sometimes it is said that the One is Yuanqi (original Qi). The Two is sometimes said to be Shenming (spirit and numinous clarity); sometimes it is said to be Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth). The Three is sometimes said to be harmonious Qi; another account says that when Heaven and Earth each abide in their positions and Yin-Yang circulates freely, the ten thousand things are then able to be generated.

The ten thousand things carry Yin on their backs and embrace Yang, achieving harmony through Chongqi (the Qi of centrality and harmony). In the human body, the back belongs to Yin and the abdomen to Yang; in the empty spaces within the body the harmonious Qi circulates. The kidneys are on the back side and the heart on the abdomen side; Yin-Yang and harmonious Qi cooperate, like a ruler and minister bringing about Great Peace through harmony.

It is also said: in the first month of pregnancy it is like fat or tallow first congealing; in the second month sprouts begin; in the third month it becomes a fetus; in the fourth month flesh is generated; in the fifth month sinews are generated; in the sixth month bones are formed; in the seventh month the form is complete; in the eighth month it can move; in the ninth month it moves restlessly; in the tenth month there is birth. Once the physical form is complete, the forms of the five viscera (heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys) are also settled.

Therefore: the lungs govern the eyes—the lungs symbolize the Vermilion Bird; the Vermilion Bird belongs to Fire, Fire governs outward illumination, and so it corresponds to the eyes. The kidneys govern the nose—the kidneys symbolize the turtle; the turtle belongs to Water, Water communicates with ditches and channels, the nose communicates Qi, and so they govern the nose. The gallbladder governs the mouth—the gallbladder governs courage and decision; the mouth is where decisions are made about food, drink, and speech, and so it governs the mouth. The liver governs the ears—the liver belongs to Metal (according to one account); Metal governs the inner landscape, and so it corresponds to the ears. The exterior is the surface and the interior is the inside; opening and closing, expanding and contracting (xi, pronounced like xie, meaning to gather in) each have definite rules.

The head is round and symbolizes Heaven; the feet are square and symbolize Earth. Heaven has the four seasons, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and nine jie (one account says ninety days make one jie; another says the eight directions plus the center make nine jie), and a year of 366 days. Humans also have four limbs, five viscera, nine orifices, and 366 joints. Heaven has wind and rain, cold and heat; humans have taking and giving, joy and anger. Therefore the gallbladder is cloud—the gallbladder belongs to Metal, and the Qi of metal and stone is like cloud.

(This running explanation follows the general meaning of the scripture and old commentaries; where technical terms first appear, brief explanations have been given.)

This passage correlates the five viscera of the human body one by one with the natural phenomena of Heaven and Earth, and from this explains the principles of nourishing life and guarding the Shen (spirit). A plain-language interpretation follows:

The Five Viscera and the Images of Heaven and Earth

The lungs govern Qi (vital energy). (Note: this account takes the lungs as belonging to Fire, and so they correspond to “Qi”; another version says that what the lungs issue forth is clouds.) The liver governs wind (the liver belongs to Wood, and Wood generates wind, hence wind). The kidneys govern rain (the kidneys belong to Water; because of water they are spoken of as rain; some editions write “lightning,” because kidney water can also symbolize light). The spleen governs thunder. The heart participates with Heaven and Earth and is also the master of the four agents (the heart belongs to Earth, and so governs Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire).

The Metaphor of Ears and Eyes, Blood and Qi, and the Sun and Moon

Ears and eyes are like the sun and moon; blood and Qi are like wind and rain. In the sun there is a crouching crow (“crouch” means to squat, referring to the three-legged crow). In the moon there is a chanchu (a toad). When the sun and moon move out of their proper measure, eclipses occur (“bo” is pronounced like “po,” meaning the sun and moon press upon each other and are eclipsed), and they lose their brightness; when wind and rain do not accord with the seasons, they break and destroy the myriad things and breed disaster; when the five planets (Yinghuo [Mars], Taibai [Venus], Suixing [Jupiter], Chenxing [Mercury], Zhenxing [Saturn], and so on) move irregularly, the various provinces and states suffer calamity (for example, when Yinghuo invades the lunar mansions Jiao and Kang, the corresponding province or state suffers harm, and the rest can be inferred by analogy).

The Dao of Heaven and Earth and the Need Not to Overwork

The Dao (the Way) of Heaven and Earth is vast to the utmost, and yet it still restrains its radiance and cherishes its spiritual brightness. How can human ears and eyes be ceaselessly smoked and worn out without stopping (“xi” means stop)? How can Jing (essence) and Shen (spirit) gallop for long without being exhausted (“ji” means exhausted)?

Facial Qi, the Five Viscera, and Restraining Desire

The Qi-color on the face is where a person’s flourishing lies; the Jing and Qi in the five viscera are the person’s root. If one can single-mindedly gather the facial Qi back into the five viscera and not let it scatter outward, the chest and abdomen will become full, and cravings and desires will naturally diminish. When the chest and abdomen are full and cravings diminish, the ears and eyes become clear and bright, and hearing and sight become penetrating; this is called “ming” (brightness). When the five viscera can be brought under the heart and do not contravene one another, then the danzhi will (the will that restrains and overcomes perverse inclinations) can prevail, and conduct will not be biased or perverse (“prevail” is sometimes written as “retreat,” meaning perverse intentions may withdraw, and thus conduct is upright). When the danzhi will prevails and conduct is not biased or perverse, Jing and Shen become abundant, and Qi does not scatter. When Jing and Shen are abundant and Qi does not scatter, one enters into “principle”; principle means “equilibrium,” equilibrium means “penetration,” and penetration means “Shen”—with Shen, one sees all that can be seen, hears all that can be heard, and nothing one undertakes is unaccomplished. Therefore worries and troubles cannot intrude, and pathogenic Qi cannot invade.

A Vernacular Reading of the Huainan Honglie Jie

Seeking the Dao Is Not Outside; Guarding the Mind Is Not in Form

Things are often like this: some go beyond the four seas to seek it, yet do not encounter it; some guard only within their own bodies (meaning the mind is without desire), yet do not see it. Thus those who seek much obtain little; those who look at what is great know, instead, little.

The Sensory Orifices and the Five Viscera

The sensory orifices (the nine openings such as the eyes, ears, mouth, and nose) are the gateways of Jing-Shen (essence and spirit); Qi and intention are the envoys and inspectors of the five viscera (heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys). If the ears and eyes indulge in the pleasures of sound and color, the five viscera become unsettled; if the five viscera are unsettled, blood and Qi become agitated without cease; if blood and Qi do not cease, Jing-Shen races outward and cannot be guarded within (because with many desires, the Shen does not stay within). When Jing-Shen races outward and is not guarded, then when misfortune or fortune arrives—even if it is as great as a hill or mountain—one cannot recognize it (the hill and mountain illustrate greatness; “recognize” means “know”). If the ears and eyes are clear and penetrating and are not seduced, if Qi and will are empty, quiet, calm, and joyful and can restrain cravings, if the five viscera are stable and full and do not leak outward, and if Jing-Shen is guarded within and the body does not overstep outward, then to look back before past ages and see after future events would still not be difficult (“still” here means “to manage/achieve”), and how much more so in matters of misfortune and fortune? Therefore it is said, “The farther one goes out, the less one knows” (this says that although one knows the Dao, one therefore knows little)—this means that Jing-Shen must not be allowed to indulge itself outwardly.

The Five Colors, Five Sounds, Five Flavors, and the Mind

Therefore: the five colors confuse the eyes and make them unclear (not clear in seeing, hence dim); the five sounds clamor in the ears and make the ears not acute (not acute in hearing, hence nothing is heard); the five flavors confuse the mouth and cause the mouth to be afflicted (shuang means illness; it is harmed by flavors); choices and rejections slip and confuse the mind and cause conduct to become flighty (confused and disorderly; flighty and not following standards). These four are originally things by which the world nourishes “nature” (xing means life), yet all can become burdens to people. Therefore it is said: cravings cause one’s Qi to dissipate (yue means lose); likes and dislikes cause the mind to labor (lao means illness). If one does not quickly remove them, will and Qi will daily be depleted (hao means disorder).

Causes of Longevity and Premature Death

The reason people cannot complete their natural lifespan and die prematurely halfway through,

This passage mainly explores the view of life and death, the unity of the myriad things, and the importance of following the Dao (the Way) of nature. The following is a plain-language interpretation.

On punishment and excessive clinging to life: Why do punishment and execution occur? Because people pursue the pleasures of life excessively—meaning they indulge in desires. If they are insatiably greedy, indulge the senses, and damage their nature and emotions, they cannot die a natural death in old age; instead, they die prematurely, through punishment.

Only those who do not take “living” as the sole purpose can truly cultivate long life. The saying “not taking life as life” means being able to regard gain and harm lightly and to remove passions and desires; in this way one may instead survive for long.

The myriad things are unified in the Dao: Heaven and earth move and interpenetrate, and the myriad things gather and are unified in the Dao (“zong” means gathering; “one” means the Dao). One who understands this unified Dao has nothing that cannot be known; one who does not understand the Dao cannot truly understand anything.

From the perspective of subject and object as one: For example, I exist within the world and am merely one thing among the myriad things. Can it be that the myriad things in the world are made complete because of me? (“Yu” is a modal particle.) In fact, only through no-self can the myriad things be complete. Then I too am a thing, and things too are things; why must things be distinguished from one another? (“Things are also things” means that the myriad things are essentially the same; why impose distinctions?)

The naturalness of life and death: Even so, when the Dao of nature gave me life, what benefit was that to me? (This means life is bestowed by nature; there is no need to pursue it deliberately.) When the Dao of nature kills me, what harm is that to me? (This means death is a natural process; there is no need to fear it.) Since creation has shaped me into a human being, I will not go against it. How do I know that those who suffer punishment in seeking to live are not meeting disaster? How do I know that those who hang by the neck seeking death are not receiving a blessing? Perhaps living is labor, and death is rest.

The attitude of following life and death: The world is vast—who knows that when it gave me life I did not force anything (“yi” means stop, indicating not loathing life), and when it kills me I do not force it to stop (indicating not fearing death)? I wish to live but do not act recklessly (“shi” means governing or managing); I hate death but do not refuse it (one may go to death for moral duty). When despised by others, I do not hate them; when honored by others, I do not rejoice. I follow my natural endowment and abide in peace.

Interpretive note: The core of this passage is to break attachment to life and death and to emphasize that the myriad things share one source and that one should follow nature. Through the dialectic of “not taking life as life,” it points out that greed for life instead harms life; only by accord with the Dao can one transcend gain and harm and reach the realm of “no-self” and unity with the myriad things.

…It must not be pushed to an extreme (one interpretation says this refers to innate nature and urgency; it illustrates that a cultivator of the Dao (the Way) need not be anxious to seek long life). While I live, I am no more than a seven-foot fleshly body; when I die, I occupy no more than the earth of a single coffin. Among all living beings that possess form, my being alive and my sinking into formlessness after death are in fact one and the same. Then when I live, the myriad things are not thereby increased; when I die, the earth is not thereby made thicker—why, then, should I divide life and death into liking and hatred, benefit and harm? (Not knowing what benefit life has or what harm death has, one simply guards one’s original nature.)

The transformer of creation arranges the myriad things just like a potter kneading clay to make vessels: taking earth from the ground to make basins and urns is no different from when the clay had not yet left the ground; once the vessels are made, then broken and scattered, they return to the original earth (a potter makes tiles by taking earth and forming vessels; people need not hate death, for death is only a return to the time before birth, like a tile broken and again becoming earth). To call them basins and urns, and to call them earth, makes no difference on the point of “ultimately returning to earth.”

In villages by the river, people draw water to irrigate their gardens, and the river water does not resent it; households with foul ditches pour their dirty water into the river, and the dirty water does not rejoice because of it. Thus water in the river and water used to irrigate a garden are not essentially different; water in a ditch and water in the river are also not essentially different (the Dao values emptiness and stillness and prizes formlessness: river water is great and difficult to dissipate, so it does not resent; stagnant water is small and easily dissipated, so it does not rejoice; each rests in its place, and as they transform into one another, there is likewise no hatred or joy).

Therefore the sage accords with the times and is at peace in his position, and in his generation he delights in his work (work means what is proper to do). Sorrow and joy are deviations of De (Virtue/Power); delight and anger are excesses of Dao; fondness and hatred are violent excesses of the mind. Therefore it is said: life is like Heaven circulating its Qi; death is like the myriad things transforming and changing. In stillness, one closes together with Yin; in movement, one opens together with Yang.

The nature of spirit is tranquil and detached, inexhaustible and without end; it does not mingle with external things, and the world naturally submits to it. Therefore the mind is the master of the body, and spirit is the treasure of the mind. If the body toils without rest it will wear out; if spirit is used excessively it will dry up. Hence the sage treasures and reveres spirit and does not dare to treat it lightly. It is like the jade huang of the Xia sovereigns, stored away in a box—this is truly a treasure. How could the preciousness of spirit be limited to the jade huang of the Xia sovereigns? Therefore the sage responds to the myriad existents through non-being and always investigates their principle; receives the fullness of existence through emptiness and always exhausts its measure. He preserves serenity and joy, emptiness and quietude in Wuwei (non-action), and thus completes his natural years. Thus he is neither excessively distant nor excessively close; he embraces De (Virtue/Power) and harmonizes Yang Qi to accord with the Dao (the Way) of Heaven, joins with Dao, is neighbor to De, and is neither the beginning of fortune nor the precursor of misfortune. The Hun and Po souls dwell securely in their abode, spirit guards its root, and birth, death, and transformation have no effect upon him; for this reason he is called utmost spirit.

The so-called True Person (Zhenren) is one whose original nature accords with Dao (such as Fuxi, the Yellow Emperor, and Laozi). Thus though he possesses, he seems not to possess; though full, he seems empty; he abides in the One and does not know the second; he governs the inner and does not recognize the outer (governing the inner means guarding spirit; not recognizing the outer means not liking or disliking external things). He understands Great Simplicity (Taisu) and Wuwei, returns to pure simplicity, embodies and embraces spirit, and roams to the limits of heaven and earth (ya is pronounced like fan in “wheat rice”). Vaguely and aimlessly he wanders beyond the dust and dirt (mang is pronounced like the mang in Wang Mang), freely roams in the enterprise of non-affairs, vast and boundless, so that mechanical devices and cunning are not borne in his mind. Therefore birth and death are also great matters, yet he is not changed by them (not being changed means being identical with birth and death); though Heaven and Earth shelter and nurture the myriad things, he does not forcefully cling to them (forceful clinging is like attachment; it means that he does not make forceful demands because Heaven and Earth nurture the myriad things, but guards his pure oneness).

(Note: The parenthetical material consists of the original pronunciation glosses or explanations.)

This passage discusses how the person who embodies the Dao guards the spirit inwardly, is not entangled by external things, and why he can remain “unmoved in mind” toward external gain and harm and sensory stimulation.

Examining Without Flaw, Not Mixed with Things

What is called “without flaw” is like a vessel without cracks (xin); it also metaphorically describes the careful attentiveness of one whose mind is not stirred by profit and desire. If one can examine in this way and act in accord with the Dao, one will not become mixed and entangled with the myriad things.

Seeing Disorder, Guarding the Source

Though one encounters affairs and sees signs of disorder, one can still guard one’s own root (zong, that is, the fundamental root, the source of the Great Dao).

Guarding the Spirit Within

Such a person rectifies his liver and gallbladder (used as metaphors for resolve and upright qi) and leaves aside ears and eyes (does not let them drag him along); this means the spirit is held inward. Mind and will are concentrated within, communicating and pairing with the “One”—this One is the Dao. When at rest he does not know what he is to do; when acting he does not know where he is going—this means the will is not bound by external things. He comes and goes in undifferentiated spontaneity, suddenly arriving and suddenly departing (lu, pronounced like “lü,” describes a mindless, sudden coming and going).

Withered Wood, Dead Ashes, and Wuwei

His form is like withered wood, his mind like cold ashes (metaphors for no contrivance and no agitation). He forgets the five viscera and diminishes attachment to bodily form; he knows without learning, sees without looking, completes without acting, and discerns without governing. When stimulated, he responds; he moves only when forced by circumstances—if not forced, he does not move. When forced to act, it is like light shining or a shadow cast. He takes the Dao as the cord and standard of decision (xun, like a knotted cord, a criterion), relies on the Dao, and is naturally thus.

Embracing Taiqing, Giving No Place to Emotions and Desires

He embraces the root of Taiqing (Great Clarity) and gives no room to emotions and desires (does not compromise or negotiate with them); external things therefore cannot confuse or disturb him (ying means to confuse or disturb).

Empty, Still, and Without Thought

His heart is broad and vast, indistinct and empty; he is clear and still, without laboring in thought (without exhausting the spirit).

The Four Calamities Cannot Injure Him

The burning of the great marshes cannot make him feel heat; the drying up of the rivers and the Han cannot make him feel cold; mighty thunder shattering mountains cannot frighten him; fierce winds blotting out the sun cannot injure him. This means that the person who embodies the Dao closes off feelings and guards emptiness; even if he encounters these four great changes, they cannot shake him.

Regarding Wealth, Honor, and Beauty as Equal

Therefore he regards pearls and precious jade as gravel; he regards imperial honor and extreme favor as a passing traveler (the supreme position refers to the emperor’s throne, and extreme favor refers to the fullest glory and favor—both are like passing travelers); he regards Mao Qiang and Xi Shi (famous beauties of antiquity) as ugly persons (the rare character here is interchangeable with dian, here referring to an ugly appearance; another interpretation contrasts it with the fierce visage of Fangxiangshi when driving away pestilence, meaning that one is not moved by beauty or ugliness).

In sum, the whole passage follows the thread of Zhuangzi’s “Fasting of the Heart,” “Sitting and Forgetting,” and “withered wood and dead ashes,” explaining that the True Person takes inner guarding as the One and moves only when forced by circumstance; therefore external things, calamities, and fame and beauty cannot enter his mind.

Vernacular Interpretation

(It says that the man wore a reddish-brown short garment and was ugly in appearance; he was not a living person, only resembled one; his ears and eyes, his looks, and his speech were all extremely ugly.) He regards death and life as one body and the myriad things as belonging to a single category (“fang” means category or kind). He shares the same Jing (essence) as the root of Taiqing (Great Clarity), and roams beside the realm of the indistinct and formless (“Huqu” refers to the place of the indistinct and formless; “pang” means side or beside). He possesses Jing and Shen (spirit) yet does not let them be enslaved; he possesses Shenming (spiritual luminosity) yet does not let it stir recklessly (this means not muddying his Jing and not laboring his Shen—that is the sense). He fits the uncarved simplicity of Da Hun (the Great Undifferentiated) and stands within Ultimate Clarity (“pu” is like plainness or uncarvedness; “hun” is the appearance of not being dispersed; “hun” is pronounced like the “hui” in “huizhang”).

Therefore he sleeps without dreaming and is wise without letting thoughts sprout (sleeping without dreaming means Shen is guarded within; being wise without sprouting means there are no miscellaneous thoughts). The Po is not suppressed, and the Hun does not take flight (Po is the Yin Shen, Hun is the Yang Shen; when Yin is not sunk and suppressed and Yang does not fly upward, each guards its dwelling). Revolving through endings and beginnings, he does not know their beginning or thread. He sleeps sweetly in the dwelling of Taixiao (Taixiao is the midst of the long night; it says he closes his eyes directly in the place of the Great Dao and sees in the dark within the luminous realm), yet awake he sees in the luminous universe; he rests in the corner without bends and roams in the wild of formless boundaries (“the corner without bends” and “the wild of formless boundaries” both describe the dark, formless, imageless condition).

He dwells without a visible form and abides without a fixed place (it says his dwelling has no visible shape and his abode has no constant place). He moves without form and is still without body (being without form or body is the appearance of Dao). He exists yet seems not to exist, lives yet seems dead; he enters and exits where there is no gap and commands ghosts and spirits (this speaks of his ability to transform; a person who does not share the form of ghosts yet can command them—this is Dao. Celestial spirits are called Shen; human spirits are called Gui). He sinks into the unfathomable, enters the no-gap, and is transmitted through different forms (“shan” means transmit; the myriad things have different forms, and Dao is transmitted through them and thereby gives rise). End and beginning are like a ring, and no one can grasp their order (“lun” means principle or Dao; no one can attain it). This is how Jing-Shen can ascend to Dao (“jia” means reach, to ascend to Dao; some editions have variant readings of the sort “toad and cloud vapor”).

The following passage is a modern Chinese general interpretation of an old commentary and subcommentary on the section of the Huainan Honglie (that is, the Huainanzi) discussing the Zhenren (the Perfected, a realized person who accords with the great Dao and whose Shen is at ease) and “nourishing the form”; terms or senses from the old commentary are briefly explained in parentheses.

Thus, the daily conduct and cultivation of the Zhenren closely resemble the blowing, exhaling, and breath-exchange of Daoyin (guided breathing and stretching): expelling turbid Qi and drawing in fresh Qi. Moving the spine like a bear climbing a tree, stretching the body like a bird spreading its wings, bathing like a duck sporting in water, leaping like an ape, staring like an owl, and turning the head to look back like a fierce tiger—these exercises, such as “the bear hangs and the bird stretches,” belong to the practice of those who nourish the form (people who only exercise the body and maintain physical shape); they are not the foundation of the Zhenren’s cultivation of the Dao.

The old commentary says: these techniques for nourishing the form are not sufficient to disturb the Zhenren’s mind. The Zhenren lets the Shen-spirit roam expansively within and without, yet does not lose its fullness (does not lose the full and authentic Shen-Qi); day and night he is one body with the Dao, “without harm” (not harming creatures and not violating the seasons), and he treats all things with the attitude of “being spring with things” (nourishing all things like spring). In this way he accords with the Dao, complies with the four seasons’ generation and transformation, and his mind’s intent is not dragged along by external things, nor moved to violate the seasons or harm creatures.

It also says: a person may change the bodily form (the old commentary sometimes reads this as “reforming the form,” referring to alterations and transformations of the bodily frame), yet the heart/mind (here mostly meaning Shen, the mind-spirit) suffers no injury; the human body is like an attached lodging (the dwelling where Shen lodges). While alive, Shen dwells in this house; at death, Shen leaves it. But Jing (the essence, the foundation of Shen-spirit and essential Qi) is not on that account said to be “used up”—hence the saying “it does not exhaust Jing.”

For example, a person afflicted with leprosy (or similar severe disease) may still walk as usual (the old commentary also glosses jie as wearing armor; according to ritual, an armored person does not bow but can hasten his steps); a deranged person need not have any defect in outward form—it is only that the Shen has already departed far and dispersed. How, then, would there be any leisure to attend to what one is doing?

Thus it can occur that the form is worn away (the old commentary takes mo as close to erasure or ruin), while the Shen has never died along with the form—Shen transforms and returns to the formless, and therefore it is said not to have “transformed” (that is, not to rot away together with the bodily form). With the un-transforming (the deathless Shen, the aspect born together with heaven and earth) it responds to transformation (the myriad changes, the birth and death of the bodily frame); the myriad transformations are endless, yet the root is without limit. As for what transforms: the bodily frame returns to dust and daily tends toward extinction. As for what does not transform: it shares its generation and completion with heaven and earth. When a tree dries up and dies, the green color has left it; though the human form changes, the Shen of the Zhenren, in this same sense, “does not interfere with the seasons or harm creatures,” and responds to transformation by the un-transforming.

A Vernacular Reading of the Huainan Honglie Jie

The Gist of the Text

“That which makes wood grow—could it be the wood itself?” Is it the wood itself that causes a tree to grow? (The commentary says: what truly makes wood grow is Heaven, is nature; hence it says, “How could it be the wood?”)

“It is like what fills the bodily form not being the form itself.” It is like what fills the bodily form not being the form itself. (What fills the form is actually Qi, hence it says, “not the form.”)

“Therefore, the life-generator has never died.” Therefore, the source that continuously “generates life” has never died.

“What it generates, however, dies.” Only the concrete things it generates are born and die. (The “life-generator” refers to a person awakened to the Dao or to the Heavenly Dao; like the Qi of Heaven, it has never died. What is generated below is the ten thousand things.)

“The transformer of things has never been transformed.” That which operates and transforms the ten thousand things never itself changes along with things.

“What it transforms, however, is transformed.” Only the ten thousand things brought forth and transformed by it change and transform. (The “transformer of things” is Dao; Dao itself does not change, hence “has never been transformed.” What is transformed is the ten thousand things; since things change, it says “is transformed.”)

“Take the world lightly, and Shen will have no burdens.” If one does not take the power and favor of the world too seriously, Shen (spirit) will not be dragged down by external things. (One who makes light of worldly power, like Xu You, will have a Shen unburdened by things.)

“Regard the ten thousand things as small, and the heart will not be deluded.” If one regards the ten thousand things as minor matters, without greed or seeking, the heart will not be deluded.

“Equalize death and life, and the will will not be afraid.” If one views death and life as equal, and is not shaken by living without righteousness or dying for righteousness, the will will have nothing to fear. (“Equalize” means to make equal; not fearing death for righteousness and not delighting in life without righteousness, the will has nothing to fear.)

“Identify with transformation, and clarity will not be dazzled.” If one shares the transformations of the Great Dao, clear understanding will not be dazzled by false appearances. (“Dazzled” means deluded.)

The multitude regard these as empty words; below concrete examples will illustrate them (“adducing analogous cases to substantiate them”; “substantiate” means to prove, to clarify).

The reason people take pleasure in being ruler is mostly to satisfy the desires of the ears and eyes and the comforts of the body.

The high terraces and tiered pavilions admired by the world (high level terraces with wooden structures above, both sumptuous buildings)—Yao used only unhewn rafters and plain stone for the lintel, without colorful ornament (“plain rafters not cut,” “plain lintel not bracketed”: the rafters were not shaved, and the ends of the lintel were not fitted with bracket ornaments).

The strange flavors and exotic things treasured by the world—Yao ate only coarse millet rice and wild-vegetable soup (“rice of coarse grain, soup of pigweed and bean leaves”: coarse rice, millet, and wild greens).

The embroidered silks and white fox fur that the world loves—Yao wore only cloth garments and a deer-fur coat to keep warm; his provisions for nourishing life were not made more ample, but rather he bore all the more the anxiety of “a heavy burden” (he had both to govern the world and to keep himself frugal and plain; “ren” is read as bearing a heavy responsibility).

Thus when he abdicated the world to Shun (“transmitting to Shun” means abdication), to him it was like taking off a heavy load (“as if releasing a heavy burden”).

What This Passage Is Saying (Summary)

Using “wood does not grow itself” and “form is not filled by itself,” it explains that the life-generator and the transformer are Dao, are Heaven, undying and unchanging; only concrete ten thousand things are born, die, transform, and change.

From this it draws out the essentials of self-cultivation: take the world lightly, regard the ten thousand things as small, equalize death and life, and identify with transformation; only then will Shen not be burdened, the heart not deluded, the will not afraid, and clarity not dazzled.

Finally, through Yao not clinging to high terraces, fine food, or brocade garments, and abdicating the world as if setting down a heavy burden, it proves that “empty words” can be put into practice.

Yu Inspects the South and Crosses the Yangtze

When Yu went on a tour of inspection through the south and crossed the Yangtze, a Yellow Dragon bore up his boat (the dragon supported the boat). Everyone aboard turned pale and lost their composure (their expressions were panic-stricken, and they did not know what to do). Yu, however, smiled serenely and said, “I have received my mandate from Heaven and strive exhaustively on behalf of the myriad people. Life is merely a temporary lodging; death is merely a return home—how could this be enough to disturb my harmony (physical and mental ease and accord)?” He looked at the dragon as if looking at a lizard or gecko (a small creature such as a lizard or house gecko), and his expression did not change. The dragon then drooped its ears and wagged its tail (lowered its ears and swung its tail) and fled. Thus one can see that Yu’s way of viewing external things was already very refined (he was not moved by them).

The Divine Shaman of Zheng Physiognomizes Huzi

The divine shaman of Zheng read Huzi’s physiognomy and saw portents on his person (signs of good or ill fortune, and qi-color). The shaman could use bone structure and qi-color to divine fortune and misfortune, and so could see these portents. The shaman told Liezi what he had seen. Liezi returned weeping and reported it to Huzi (Liezi was a recluse of Zheng and Huzi’s disciple; “report” means to inform).

Huzi said, “What I hold to is Tianrang—Heaven and Earth (the spirit belongs to Heaven and the bodily frame to Earth; after death each returns to its root, hence ‘holding Heaven and Earth’). Fame and substance (reputation, rank, and material benefits such as wealth) do not enter my mind; when the pivotal moment issues from the heel (life is in imminent danger and arrives in the twinkling of an eye, as if before one can turn on one’s heel), I am not afraid.” Huzi’s view of life and death was likewise equalizing (regarding them as the same and taking them lightly).

Ziqiu

Ziqiu was fifty-four when he fell ill: he was hunched (bent-backed), his spine rose above the top of his head, his liver (chest and abdomen) pressed down to his chin, and the thighs of both legs turned up above his upper body (describing severe deformation of the body).

This passage describes the realm and attitude of those who have attained the Dao. It mentions how when one bends over a well to see their reflection, they marvel at the wonder of creation—was I truly fashioned thus? This realization leads to understanding that all transformations in the myriad things share the same essence.

By observing Emperor Yao (ancient sage ruler) abdicating to Shun, one comprehends how worldly power is lighter than a goose feather; witnessing Yu the Great (flood-taming sage king) treating dragons as mere lizards reveals the insignificance of all creatures; grasping Master Huizi's discourses on heaven and earth unveils the unity of life and death; seeing the cultivator Ziqiu contemplating by the well illuminates the eternal truth within change.

Those who truly attain the Dao are like leaning against an immovable pillar while walking an unobstructed path. They possess an inexhaustible wellspring of wisdom, following immortal masters who transcend death. Wherever they go, they accomplish their aims; whatever circumstances they encounter, they navigate without hindrance. Life cannot entangle their aspirations, nor can death tarnish their spirit—bending or stretching, they accord with heavenly decree, adapting flexibly within destiny's flow.

Faced with fortune and misfortune's endless transformations, what could possibly disturb their minds? Such individuals preserve their primal simplicity, shedding worldly attachments like cicadas sloughing their skins, roaming freely in the nine heavens. They soar lightly in solitary freedom, dissolving instantly into the Great Void. Not even phoenixes can compare with them, let alone pond-side sparrows—how could vulgar concerns like official rank and stipends sway their resolve?

The passage concludes with the example of Yanzi (virtuous minister of Qi): when making a pact with the powerful minister Cui Zhu, he refused to compromise his principles even under threat of death. This exemplifies how perfected persons transcend external things while steadfastly preserving their authentic nature.

A Vernacular Reading of the Huainan Honglie Jie

I

When the feudal lords made a covenant, the covenant lord said to the feudal lords, “Anyone who does not follow only Cui and Qing will be treated thus.” Yanzi said, “I, Ying, will likewise follow no one except those who are loyal to the ruler and beneficial to the state.”

The feudal lords made a covenant, and the covenant lord said, “All those who do not follow only Cui and Qing will be treated thus.” Yanzi said, “What I, Ying, follow is no one except those who are loyal to the ruler and beneficial to the state; it is the same.”

II

And because he benefited the state, it is said that he faced death without changing his righteousness.

III

Zhi Hua and Hua Zhou were about to go into battle and die. The ruler of Ju offered them rich bribes to stop them, but they did not change their conduct.

Zhi: Zhi Hua; Hua: Hua Zhou. Both were scholars of Qi. They attacked Ju on behalf of their ruler and were surrounded by the men of Ju. The men of Ju admired their courage and strength and offered them rich bribes to stop fighting, but they refused and died in battle. Hence it is said that “they did not change their conduct.”

IV

Therefore Yanzi could be pressed by benevolence, but not coerced by arms.

Yanzi would not join Cui Zhu’s covenant and was about to be killed. Yanzi said, “Why should the hooked halberds not hook? Why should the night spears not break?” Unbending and firm, he held fast to righteousness. Hence it is said that he “could not be coerced by arms.”

V

Zhi Hua and Hua Zhou could be stopped by righteousness, but not enticed by profit.

“Xian” here means “to regard” or “to look at”; it indicates not being moved by profit.

VI

The noble man dies for righteousness and cannot be frightened by death.

They still merely direct their minds to righteousness and are not bound by external things—how much more so the person of Wuwei (non-action)?

VII

Yao did not regard possessing the world as noble, so he handed it over to Shun.

VIII

Gongzi Zha did not regard possessing a state as honorable, so he yielded the throne.

Zha was Yanzhou Lai Jizi, the youngest son of Shoumeng of Wu. He yielded the throne and did not accept his elder brother’s state. During the Spring and Autumn period he was considered worthy; the son of a feudal lord was called gongzi.

IX

Zi Han did not regard jade as wealth, so he did not accept the treasure.

Zi Han was Yue Xi, the Sicheng, son of Xixiang Shi and a sixth-generation descendant of Duke Dai of Song. A man of Song obtained a piece of jade and offered it to Zi Han. Zi Han would not accept it. The donor said, “I showed it to a jade craftsman, and the craftsman considered it a treasure, so I dared to offer it to you.” Zi Han said, “I take not being greedy as my treasure; you take jade as your treasure. If you give it to me and I accept it, both of us will lose our treasure. It is better that each person keep his own treasure.” The donor kowtowed and said, “A petty man carrying a jade disk cannot cross the district.” He handed the jade over to him and begged for death. Zi Han placed the jade in the district where the man lived, had jade craftsmen carve it for him, and after he had become wealthy, allowed him to return to his original place. Hence it is said that he “did not accept the treasure.”

X

Wu Guang did not harm righteousness for the sake of life, so he threw himself into the deep pool.

Wu Guang was a recluse in the time of Tang of Shang. Tang attacked Jie and wished to yield the world to Wu Guang. Wu Guang thought that Tang used benevolence and righteousness to attack Jie but then used the world to coerce him, so he threw himself into a deep pool.

Summary of the Main Idea

Through a series of stories about historical figures such as Yanzi, Zhi Hua, Gongzi Zha, Zi Han, and Wu Guang, this passage explains that true noble men and worthies hold fast to righteousness, are not moved by profit, and are not afraid of death. If they were already like this, how much more so the sage who governs by Wuwei (non-action)? Yao, Shun, Gongzi Zha, Zi Han, and Wu Guang all did not regard things outside the self as precious; therefore they could perform actions such as yielding the throne, refusing treasure, and throwing themselves into a deep pool that seem “abnormal,” but in fact they manifest the highest moral realm.

Someone said to Wu Guang, “Tang of Shang killed his sovereign and will place the reputation of injustice upon you.” Wu Guang then clasped a stone, threw himself into a deep pool, and died.

From this it can be known that supreme honor need not depend on rank and title (Xu You and Wu Guang took De as their honor, and so it is said they did not wait for rank); supreme wealth need not depend on money and goods (Jie Yu, the madman of Chu, took De as his wealth; when the King of Chu heard of his worth, he sent envoys with a hundred yi of gold to appoint him minister, but he would not accept, and so it is said he did not wait for wealth). Although the world is vast, Yao yielded it to another; although the body is most intimate to oneself, Wu Guang cast it into a deep pool. Beyond this, nothing else is worth coveting (“outer” means to set aside or remove; “profit” means coveting profit; in some versions it is “private,” meaning to enjoy exclusively for oneself). This is what is called “the person without entanglement”—the person without entanglement does not regard the world as precious.

Looking upward to observe the discourse of the Supreme Person and deeply probe the original meaning of Dao and De, then looking downward to examine (“kao” means to observe) the conduct of the vulgar world, one feels it is truly shameful. Therefore, once one awakens to Xu You’s aspiration, works such as Jin Teng and Bao Tao can be discarded (Jin Teng and Bao Tao are traditionally said to be books in which the Duke of Zhou and the Grand Duke plotted for kingship; Xu You made light of the world and would not accept it—what need had he for such books? Hence it says they can be discarded). When Jizi of Yanling declined the state of Wu, those who contended over idle fields (such as the incidents of Yu and Rui contending over fields, and of Bao Huan Gong and Su Xin Gong) felt ashamed; when Zihan did not covet precious jade, those who contended over contracts and deeds felt ashamed; when Wu Guang did not sully himself in the world, those who coveted profit and clung to life felt stifled.

Therefore, one who has not seen the Great Righteousness does not know that life is not worth coveting (the Great Righteousness refers to the difficulty of going to death for one’s ruler and parents); one who has not heard the Great Words does not know that the world is not worth profiting from (the Great Words refer to words that embody the Dao and are without desire). For example, in a small community altar in a poor alley, people beat pots and strike jars, singing in response to one another, and consider themselves happy (a poor and rustic community altar refers to a small community shrine in a poor alley; pots and jars are vessels, and when struck they make a sound, hence they consider themselves happy). If someone were to beat the jiangu drum and strike the giant bell for them, only then would they suddenly realize the crudeness of pots and jars.

Vernacular Interpretation

(Rengreng) describes the appearance of being unfulfilled, gloomy, and unhappy (in some editions “rengreng” is written “lingling,” as if one is still listening and cannot let go).

Merely hiding the Odes and Documents in one’s heart and drilling into rhetoric and learning, without understanding the purport of the highest Dao, is the same as those who beat basins and strike clay jars—what they learn is superficial bustle; they have not touched the root.

To study “possessing the world” as a subject of learning is like using a jiangu (the largest drum in the court) as teaching material: honored position, power, and heavy profit are what people greedily seek (“honored power” means an extremely noble position; “heavy profit” means a very substantial salary). But if someone were made to hold the “map of the world” in one hand while cutting his own throat with the right hand, even a fool would not do it. From this we see that life is more precious than possessing the world (the world is too large to be clutched in the hand, so it does not say “hand”; even if one truly had power and registers, self-killing would not make the exchange, hence “life is more precious than the world”).

The sage: food sufficient to continue the breath, clothing sufficient to cover the body, follows his original heart and does not seek surplus (jie means to continue life; gai means to cover; yu means abundance). Without the world he does not diminish his nature; with the world he does not envy that ease (kui means diminution; xian means excess; he means appropriateness). Having the world and not having it are essentially the same (actually indicating equality).

It is like the lord of Ao granting people the granary and granting people the river water: when hungry they eat, when thirsty they drink. What enters the belly is no more than one bamboo basket of rice and one gourd of water (dan is a rice basket; piao is a drinking vessel). When a person is full, the Ao granary does not lose a single grain because of it; when the belly is filled, the river water does not dry up because of it. Having these does not make one fuller; lacking them does not make one hungrier—it is the same as keeping to one’s own chuandun (a vessel for storing grain) and the water from one’s own well—one and the same thing (chuandun is a vessel for collecting grain; the well is the household’s well water; chuan is pronounced like “zhuan”).

When people are greatly angry, it harms Yin; when greatly joyful, it damages Yang (already discussed in “Yuan Dao”). Great worry causes the inner heart to collapse and scatter; great fear drives one mad.

Remove defilement and unload encumbrances, vast and open as if one had never left the original source—only this is called Great Penetration (Datong). Though the eyes are clear and bright, they are not used to see; though the ears are quiet, they are not used to hear; the mouth is clamped shut and not used to speak; the mind is set down and not used to scheme; cast off cleverness and return to Taizu (the most pristine and simple state), letting the spirit rest.

Vernacular Interpretation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

Discard cleverness, so that one is aware yet seems benighted; while alive, seem as if dead.

(Annotation: Mei means dim; in Chu, yan was pronounced as mei, referring to ignorance and dullness.)

If people let go of cunning and cleverness, they instead seem to dwell in ignorance; though alive, they seem already dead.

In the end they return to the root—back to the time before birth, becoming one with the transformative process of creation.

(This speaks of the state before a person is born; death and life are viewed as equal, hence being one with creation.)

Death and life are fundamentally one.

Today, people performing corvée labor raise their hoes and use the ao (a bladed digging tool, called by a local name in the Sanfu region) to dig earth, and carry soil in baskets.

(Yao means corvée labor; in the Hedong region, road repair is called the “Yao road.”)

Salty sweat streams down, and breath presses close to the throat—white sweat is salty like salt, hence it is called salt sweat; bo means pressing close, as Qi rushes to the throat.

At such a time, if one could rest in tree shade (xiu) or beneath a tree with dense branches and leaves (in Chu, a small tree whose canopy is like a chariot cover is called “yue”), one would suddenly feel relaxed and joyful.

(Tuo means to stretch out; when a corvée laborer gains a moment of rest, his Qi stretches out, and so he rejoices.)

Among cliffs and caves, the rest is not only that beneath tree shade;

people suffering from hernia or abdominal masses hold their chests and press their bellies, knocking their heads on their knees (or curl up and listen intently, sleepless all night).

At such a time, if they could suddenly fall into a deep sleep, relatives and brothers would all rejoice.

A whole night of peaceful sleep is not merely the joy of a single swallow (kuai).

(This means the joy of being able to sleep all night surpasses the joy of a single bite, yet it still does not equal the joy of a long night’s sound sleep.)

From this one may know:

The vastness of the universe cannot be coerced or robbed by death and life;

(Jie means to coerce.)

One who knows the harmony of nourishing life (the harmony of the upright Dao) cannot be dangled before or shaken by the power of the world;

(The harmony of nourishing life refers to the upright Dao; one who has cultivated the upright Dao is not deluded, and so cannot be changed by being shown the world’s utmost power.)

One who knows the peace and joy of the time before birth cannot be made afraid by death;

(Such a person delights in the time before birth; even if threatened with death, he does not know fear—meaning he does not fear death.)

One who knows that Xu You was nobler than Shun, then...

(The text here seems incomplete; the common meaning is: if one understands that Xu You’s way of conducting himself was superior to Shun’s, one will not be moved by fame and profit.)

Summary of Key Points

This passage uses the hardships of corvée labor, the good fortune of the sick, a brief rest in tree shade, and other intimate small matters to set off the Daoist position that “death and life are one” and “returning to the root and merging with transformation”:

it does not use life and death to coerce people, does not exchange one’s harmony for the world, and does not use death to frighten those who know the joy of the unborn—advancing layer by layer, it shows that true nobility and true joy lie in “becoming one with transformation,” not in external things and power.

Vernacular Interpretation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

Not Coveting External Things (meaning not coveting profit and emolument or anything tied to desire). A wall built and standing is not as good as when it collapses; how much less is there any need to make a wall at all? Ice congealed into a block is not as good as when it melts; how much less is there any need to make a block of ice at all? (Better still is the time before wall or ice has formed—collapsing and melting are what show that change can occur.)

From nothing to something, from something to nothing (from formlessness to form, and from form back to formlessness; formlessness is the utmost limit of the transformations of death and life).

Beginning and end have no terminus; one does not know from where they sprout. If one does not comprehend the principle of inner and outer, who can be without likes and dislikes? (Likes and dislikes are emotions and desires.)

The outside beyond the outside is the greatest; the inside within the inside is the most valuable. (Heaven has no limit, yet beyond the “outside” one can still speak of an “outside,” which is a metaphor for the extremely great; and within the smallest one can still speak of an “inside”; the Dao is even more subtle and wondrous, and so it is called most valuable.)

One who can know this “great value” (the inside within the inside) will find no place he goes that is not penetrated. (The Dao is extremely subtle and can enter and exit where there is no gap; hence it says, “Where can one go without success?” “Success” means penetrating.)

People of a declining age flock to learning (cou means to hasten toward; they merely hasten toward secondary, minor learning, do not practice and study the classics that investigate antiquity, and vainly seek fame and title), and do not know to trace the mind back to its source and return to the root (return to the original mind and the source). They only carve and chisel their natural nature, forcibly bend and go against their original feelings, in order to interact with the vulgar world. (They violate and distort their original feelings to conform to vulgar customs.)

Thus, although the eyes desire, they restrain them with measure; although the heart takes delight, they moderate it with ritual. They scurry and flutter, go round and round in social ceremony, bend their integrity and bow low; meat congeals and they do not eat; wine clears and they do not drink—outwardly they bind their physical form, inwardly they constrain their De (Virtue/Power), clamp the harmony of Yin-Yang, and force the feelings of nature and life; therefore for their whole lives they are sorrowful people. (Such was the learning of a sorrowful age.)

Those who reach the ultimate Dao are not like this: they order and smooth their emotions and nature, govern and nourish the art of the mind, nourish it with harmony, maintain it with appropriateness; they delight in the Dao and forget lowliness, are content in De and forget poverty. When the nature has non-desire, if they guard emptiness and hold fast to the feeling of “non-desire,” then there is nothing desired that is not obtained; (if the heart has something it does not...)

Joy and Restraint

The expression “there is no rightful joy that he does not practice” means that a person whose aspirations are upright does not wallow in depraved pleasures, and so there is no contradiction of “failing to practice rightful joy.” It speaks of taking a correct nature as the foundation and not being moved by licentious pleasure.

Things that bring no benefit to nature and emotions should not be used to burden virtuous conduct; conveniences that obstruct one’s original nature should not be used to disturb the mind. Therefore, indulging the body and giving free rein to action must have a measure, and this “measure” can become a standard for all under Heaven (zong means indulgence, si means slackening or relaxation, and yi means standard or rule).

The Confucian Flaw: Blocking the Source with a Hand

Confucians often fail to reason from the root of why people want what they want, and instead simply forbid people from wanting this or that; they do not clarify why people take joy in something, but forcibly block up their joy. This is like using a hand to dam the water at the source of the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers: the force at the source cannot be stopped, and the hand cannot cover it either.

Herding the People Like Livestock: Pens and Hobbles

Governing the people is like raising birds and beasts: if one does not build the enclosure walls solidly, but merely ties their legs and restricts their movement, and then hopes they will naturally live out their allotted years—how could that be possible?

Confucius’s Eminent Disciples: Coercing Nature and Going Against Feeling

Yan Hui, Ji Lu, Zixia, and Ran Boniu were all accomplished scholars in Confucius’s school, yet their ends were all miserable. Yan Yuan died young at eighteen; Confucius said, “Hui was unfortunate, short-lived, and died,” and so his death is called yao, dying young. Ji Lu became involved in the struggle between the ruler and his son in the state of Wei and was killed; Confucius said, “If You [Zilu] is not to die a natural death…” and the people of Wei minced him into meat paste, hence the term zu, minced or pickled. Zixia studied at the Western River and wept over his son until he went blind. Ran Boniu contracted a severe illness; Confucius grasped his hand through the window and said, “Such a man, and yet such an illness!” All these cases are attributed to going against original nature, suppressing the emotions, and failing to attain inner harmony.

Zixia, Sometimes Lean and Sometimes Fat

When Zixia saw Zengzi, he was sometimes lean and sometimes fat. Zengzi asked him why. Zixia said: When I go out and see the pleasures of wealth and honor, I envy them; when I return home and read the Way of the Former Kings, I am joyful again. The two minds fight within me, and so I become lean. Later, when the Way of the Former Kings gained the upper hand in my heart, I was no longer dragged about by wealth and honor; the spirit was guarded within, with few thoughts and cares, and so I became fat.

From this one may infer that Zixia was not naturally able to refrain from coveting wealth and honor or from delighting in extravagance; rather, he forced himself to shut off desire and violate his nature, and thus made body and mind fight, so that he was alternately fat and lean.

Summary

The main point of this passage is that merely blocking desire without explaining the “why” of desire and the “why” of joy in one’s original nature is like using a hand to stop the source of a great river. If one governs the people only by “hobbling their feet” without “building the enclosure,” one cannot ensure that they live out their years. The fates of several eminent disciples of Confucius are used to show that coercing nature and going against feeling prevents inner harmony—the same principle as the analogy of Zixia’s fatness and leanness.

Huainan Honglie Jie: A Plain-Language Interpretation

Restraining Oneself with Moral Principle: Even when one is inwardly depressed and physically hollowed out, one still has to force oneself to keep going; thus people often fail to live out their natural lifespan (their allotted years).

As for the Zhiren (the Perfected Person, one who has attained the Dao): when his stomach is full he eats, when his body has enough he clothes himself; he makes his person secure and wanders, and follows his nature and feelings in acting. He travels all under Heaven without greed, sets all things aside, and does not take them as private gain. He dwells in the vast, empty universe and roams in a wilderness without end; he ascends to Taihuang (an honorific title for Heaven), relies on Taiyi (the form and spirit of Heaven), and plays with Heaven and Earth in the palm of his hand—how could this be about poverty or wealth, fatness or thinness?

Thus Confucianism does not enable people to be without desires; it enables them, when desires arise, to stop them with rightness. Nor does it enable people to forgo pleasure; it enables them, in the face of pleasure, to restrain themselves with ritual propriety. The Analects says: Wealth and honor that are not in accordance with rightness are to me like floating clouds.

Making everyone under Heaven fear punishment and not dare steal—how can that compare with making their hearts have no thought of stealing at all? The Yue people catch the bearded snake (a great snake several zhang long) and treat it as a choice delicacy; people of the Central Plains get it and throw it away, because they know it is useless. If one knows it is useless, even a greedy person can decline it; if one does not know it is useless, even an honest person cannot yield it.

Rulers who lose their states, destroy the altars of state, lose their lives, and are laughed at by all under Heaven often do so not because they “had no desires,” but because their desires were directed to the wrong place.

Qiuyou (a Di state near Jin) lost its state because it coveted the great bell sent by Zhi Xiangzi of Jin: first he used the great bell as a bribe; the lord of Qiuyou was greedy, opened a road to welcome the bell and seek peace, and Zhi Bo then sent troops and destroyed him. (The “Qiu” in “Qiuyou” is pronounced as in “Qiuyu.”)

The Lord of Yu coveted the Chuiji jade disk (the name of a fine jade), and in the end was himself captured. (Jin ... great ... there may be a lacuna in the original text here.)

Note: The parentheses contain original annotations or collation notes, which have been integrated into the text above.

Huainan Honglie Jie, Volume 12 (Excerpt): A Vernacular Interpretation

Xun Xi devised a plan for Duke Xian of Jin: using the famous horses of Qu and the jade disk of Chuiji (a place name, famous for fine jade) as bait, he would borrow a route through Yu in order to attack Guo. The Duke of Yu coveted the jade disk and horses and agreed to let Jin pass through. After Guo was destroyed, the Jin army returned and again stationed itself in Yu; it then made a surprise attack on Yu, destroyed the state, and killed its ruler. Hence it says “captured his person”—the ruler himself also met with disaster.

Duke Xian of Jin was infatuated with the beauty of Li Ji (a daughter of the Li Rong) and threw the succession into disorder for four generations: he attacked the Li Rong and obtained Li Ji and her younger sister, doted on them, and she gave birth to Xiqi. He also killed his legitimate son Shensheng and set up the son of a concubine, Xiqi. Thereafter Xiqi, Zhuozi, Duke Hui, Yiwu, and others fought for the throne, and for several generations there was no peace; hence it is called “disordering four generations.”

Duke Huan of Qi was addicted to the delicacies cooked by Yi Ya (a famous chef). After Duke Huan died, five princes contended for the throne; his corpse lay in state for sixty days before being encoffined, worms crawled out from inside the door, and for five months he could not be buried. Hence it says “not buried at the proper time.”

The King of Hu (a ruler of the Western Rong; one account identifies him with Qiuyou) was addicted to the pleasures of women and music and lost his territory and fine lands. Duke Mu of Qin wished to attack the Rong, so he first sent female entertainers to confuse his mind. His minister You Yu remonstrated with him, but he would not listen; You Yu left the Rong and fled to Qin, and Qin then attacked the Rong and obtained their best lands.

If these rulers could have restrained their passions and desires, taken their own proper measure as the standard, and not been shaken by external things, how could such great disasters have occurred? The five rulers above—Qiuyou, the Duke of Yu, Duke Xian of Jin, Duke Huan of Qi, and the King of Hu—are precisely negative examples. “Suiting one’s feelings and declining excess” means stopping when appropriate and restraining desire; “not moving with things” means not being dragged along by external things.

Archery cannot do without arrows, but one who learns archery need not make the arrows himself; chariot driving cannot do without reins, but one who learns to drive need not make the reins himself. Once you understand that waving a fan in winter and wearing a fur coat in summer are of no use to you, then the transformations of the myriad things will appear in your eyes as no more than dust. To use boiling water to stop boiling is rather to make the boiling impossible to stop; truly understanding the root is simply withdrawing the fire.

(Note: sha means fan; in the Chu region a fan was called sha; “yi” here carries the sense of stopping or ceasing.)