《淮南鴻烈解》Vol. 15

Huainan Honglie Jie, Volume Fifteen: Shen One

Main Techniques of Rule (Part Two)

Recorded and submitted by your servant Xu Shen, Libationer to the Grand Commandant.

The Dao of governing the world lies in cultivating oneself through clarity and stillness and in setting an example for officials and people through frugality and simplicity. When the ruler is clear and still, the people are not disturbed; when the ruler is frugal, the people do not harbor resentment. If those below are disturbed, government becomes chaotic; if the people resent, De (Virtue/Power) becomes thin. When government is chaotic, worthy men are unwilling to offer plans; when De is thin, brave men are unwilling to die for the state.

Therefore, if a ruler is addicted to birds of prey and fierce beasts, rare and strange objects (taking gold and jade as precious, the bizarre and unusual as prodigious, and the extraordinary as marvelous), if his temperament is cunning and restless, if he is given to ease and neglects government, does not cherish the people’s strength, gallops about hunting, and goes out and returns without fixed times, then the hundred officials will be harried, affairs will multiply, and resources will be exhausted; the myriad people will be grieved, and their livelihoods will fall into ruin. If the ruler is addicted to high terraces and deep ponds, carved and engraved ornaments, and gorgeous clothes and brocade (white-and-black alternating patterns are called fu [fǔ]; blue-and-red alternating patterns are called fu [fú]; chi and xi are hemp cloth, the fine being chi and the coarse xi; when the five colors are complete, it is called embroidery), and if his levies are without limit, the myriad people’s strength will be exhausted.

Yao possessed the world not because he coveted the wealth of the myriad people and wished to enjoy the ruler’s seat in peace, but because he saw the people suffering under labor service, the strong oppressing the weak, and the many deceiving the few. He therefore personally practiced frugality and made clear the benevolence of mutual love in order to harmonize the world. Thus his thatched roof was not trimmed, the rafters of gathered wood were not planed smooth, the great carriage was not painted (the great carriage is a four-horse carriage; the Son of Heaven drives six horses; it was neither painted nor decorated), the rush mats of Yue were not bordered, the great broth was not seasoned with the five flavors, and the millet food was not finely pounded. He made inspection tours and spread instruction, toiled for the world, and circulated through the Five Peaks—not because his provisions were insufficient or because he was unable to enjoy pleasure. He used the world to serve the altars of soil and grain and had no private profit. When he grew old and his resolve declined, he transmitted the world to Shun as easily as turning one’s foot to slip off a shoe (this speaks of its ease).

In a declining age it is otherwise. As soon as one bears responsibility for the world for a single day and sits in the ruler’s position, he exhausts the people’s strength to satisfy the desires of ear and eye; his mind is devoted to palaces, chambers, terraces, and ponds, and to likes and dislikes, sounds and colors. With extravagance he extinguishes De, and with many desires he damages his resolve. Thus the world loses its root.

A Vernacular Reading of the Huainan Honglie Jie

Palaces and chambers, terraces and pavilions, ponds and pools, parks and enclosures, fierce beasts such as bears and brown bears, and rare curiosities and marvels—all are things of this kind. Thus the poor cannot even get chaff and husks into their mouths, while tigers, wolves, bears, and brown bears are so glutted that they reject fodder and grain-fed livestock; the common people cannot even cover themselves completely with coarse cloth and short garments, while those in the palaces wear brocade and fine embroidery. When the ruler urgently pursues these useless undertakings, the common people and the black-haired masses wither throughout the realm. (“Li” is the same as “qi,” meaning the multitude together; “cannot be at peace in their proper nature” means they cannot rest in their original nature but instead are driven to arise in deceit and falsehood.)

The ruler’s dwelling and conduct should be like the brightness of the sun and moon: everyone in the world turns to look from the side, listens from the side, stretches the neck, and stands on tiptoe to gaze. Therefore: without plainness and tranquility, one cannot make De (Virtue/Power) clear; without quietude, one cannot reach far; without magnanimity, one cannot cover all; without kindness and generosity, one cannot embrace the multitude; without fairness and uprightness, one cannot make judgments.

A worthy ruler’s employment of people is like a skilled carpenter cutting wood: the large pieces become boats and ships, pillars and beams (boats; two small boats crossing side by side together are called a “hang”); the small pieces become oars and wedges; the long pieces become rafters and eave-rafters (“lu” refers to the eaves hanging down, “cui” to rafters); the short pieces become zhuru, ji, and lu (zhuru are short wooden pieces on beams shaped like crouching or kneeling figures; ji is pronounced like “ji” as in “chicken” and is a component like a bracket set). Whether large or small, long or short, each gets its suitable place; compass and square, round and square, each has its application. Of all things under heaven, none is more fierce than jidu (aconite, a poisonous herb), yet a good physician stores it in a bag because it has its use.

Therefore, even the timber of mountains and forests has nothing that can be thrown away—how much more so human beings! Those whom the court does not employ and the villages do not praise are not necessarily without talent; it is rather that the office to which they are assigned is not their proper function. A deer ascends a mountain, and a river deer cannot stand on tiptoe and follow it up; but when it comes down to the pasture, a shepherd boy can chase it—talent has its strengths and weaknesses.

Therefore: one who has great strategy cannot be required to be quick and clever (“lüe” refers to practicing the Dao, the great Dao); one who has small cleverness cannot be entrusted with great achievements. People have their talents, things have their forms; assign one task and it may be too heavy, or assign a hundred tasks and it may still be light. Thus one who examines minute, hair’s-breadth calculations will surely lose the great reckoning of the world (“yi” means lose); one who picks out only small things and will not let them go will also lose great matters.

Note: The original interlinear notes (such as boats and ships, zhuru, jidu, and so on) have been merged into the punctuation in parentheses for easier comparison with the classic text.

This passage says: in employing people, each must be placed in the position suited to them; the ruler should govern by borrowing the eyes and ears and talents of all under Heaven, not rely on his own strength alone.

Improper employment is like making a leopard cat fight oxen and tigers

In undertaking great affairs, it is like not being able to make a leopard cat deal with oxen and tigers, nor make oxen and tigers catch mice. People’s capacities differ: some wish to pacify the Nine Provinces, settle the four quarters, rescue endangered states, and restore broken lineages; their will is set on the upright Way, on distinguishing crooked from upright, and on resolving troublesome difficulties. If one instead demands that they be expert in boudoir etiquette and maneuver in narrow quarters, that is a mistake. Others only know flattery, slick talk, pandering to local customs, and pleasing the crowd; if the authority over all under Heaven and the key to order and chaos are handed to them, it is like using an axe to trim hair or a knife to chop wood—both are unsuited to their use.

The ruler should take all under Heaven as his eyes and ears

The ruler should take all under Heaven as his eyes and ears, use the wisdom of all under Heaven for reflection, and act with the strength of all under Heaven. In this way orders can reach below, the feelings of officials can reach above, the hundred officials communicate smoothly, and the assembled ministers gather like spokes around the hub of a wheel. He does not reward out of personal liking when pleased, nor punish out of personal resentment when angry; thus authority is established and not discarded, his intelligence is clear and penetrating and not benighted, laws and decrees are clear and not harsh, and his eyes and ears are open and not blocked. The true conditions of good and evil are daily laid before him with nothing concealed. The worthy exhaust their wisdom, the unworthy exhaust their strength, virtue’s grace covers all without partiality, the ministers exert themselves without slackening, those near are at peace in their nature, and those far cherish his virtue. Why is this so? Because he has grasped the way of employing people and does not rely on his own individual talent.

Borrowing things to reach afar, borrowing people to govern the state

By driving a carriage and horses, one reaches a thousand li without laboring one’s feet; by riding a boat and oars, one can cross rivers and seas though not good at swimming. It is the ruler’s disposition to wish to gather the wisdom within the seas and exhaust the strength of the multitude. Yet among the ministers, those whose aspirations reach to loyal service are few, and those who do not endanger themselves are rare. If what is said is right, even if it comes from a commoner or a gatherer of grass and firewood, it must not be discarded; if what is said is wrong, even if it comes from a minister or chancellor, it must not be followed.

If what is said is not right, then even a minister-chancellor or a ruler, devising plans in the court, may still have them rejected. (A ruler is the sovereign; “putting forth strategy” means offering plans. If the words are not right, then even noble status will be denied.)

Where right and wrong lie cannot be settled by noble or base, high or low. A wise ruler listens to the words of his assembled ministers: if a plan is usable, he adopts it, and does not reject it because the speaker’s position is low; if words are practicable, he adopts them, and does not show partial trust because of eloquence or debating skill.

A benighted ruler is otherwise: those near and favored, even if crooked and devious, he fails to see; those distant and lowly, even if they exhaust themselves in loyalty, he fails to understand. When someone offers words, he hounds him to the end with rhetoric; when someone remonstrates, he executes him under some charge. Yet wishing thereby to illuminate all within the seas and the ten thousand directions is like stopping the ears to hear clear and muddy sounds, or covering the eyes to distinguish blue from yellow: it is far indeed from penetrating clarity and wisdom. (“Far” means removed from.)

Law is the measure of all under heaven and the standard of the ruler. To display the law is to restrain the unlawful; to establish rewards is to reward what should be rewarded. Once the law is fixed, those who fit the legal standards are rewarded, and those who fall short of them are punished. The noble are not to have their penalties lightened, nor the lowly their punishments made heavy. (This speaks of fairness.) Those who break the law, though worthy, must be punished; those who fit the law, though unworthy, must be found innocent. Thereby the public way is opened and the private way blocked. (“Public” means fair and just; “private” means crooked and partisan; “blocked” means closed off.)

In ancient times officials were established (yousi, apparently referring to officers who managed the law) in order to prohibit the people from self-indulgence. (Self-indulgence means license.) A ruler was installed in order to restrain the officials so they could not arbitrarily enforce the law. Legal records and ritual propriety were meant to restrain the ruler so he could not make arbitrary judgments. If no one is allowed to indulge himself, the Dao prevails; when the Dao prevails, principle is reached. Therefore one returns to Wuwei (non-action). Wuwei does not mean being frozen and motionless; it means that government orders do not issue from one person’s private will.

The inch arises from the grain ear; the grain ear arises from the sun; the sun arises from form; form arises from shadow—this is the basis of measurement. (The first term means an ear of grain; the second means the awn at the tip of an elm; ten of the latter make one fen, ten fen make one cun, and ten cun make one chi.)

Vernacular Interpretation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

Gist of the original text: Music comes from “tones,” tones from “pitch standards,” and pitch standards from “winds”—this is the root of sound (“zong” means root/foundation). Law comes from “rightness,” rightness from “the multitude”; to accord with the multitude is to accord with the human heart—this is the key point of governing the state (“yao” means outline/essentials).

Therefore: One who grasps the root will not become tangled in branches and minor details; one who sees the essentials clearly will not be dazzled by excessive formalities and red tape.

Law does not fall from Heaven or grow from the earth; it arises among human beings and is then turned back upon oneself for rectification. Therefore: if one has accomplished something oneself, one does not harshly demand it of others (though one has clear discernment oneself, one treats others with forbearance); if one has not accomplished it oneself, one does not make unreasonable demands of others (when one does not yet possess exceptional clarity, one does not heap blame on others). Rules established for those below are not themselves neglected by those above (when a ruler makes laws to prohibit the people, he also observes them himself, using the law to rectify himself); what is forbidden to the common people, he himself does not do (improper things are not to be done by oneself as a special exception; this means first rectifying oneself in order to rectify others).

The so-called loss of a state is not because there is no ruler, but because there is no law; the so-called change of law is not that there is fundamentally no law, but that there is law yet it is not used—which is the same as having no law.

Therefore, when a ruler establishes laws, he must first make himself the measuring standard and model instrument (“biao” means an upright example); only then can laws and decrees be carried out throughout the world. Confucius said: If one is upright oneself, people will follow even without orders; if one is not upright, no one will listen even if orders are given. Thus prohibitions must first stand firm in one’s own person (not daring to be the first to violate the prohibition), and only then can orders truly take effect among the common people.

The sage king governs the state just as Zao Fu drove a carriage: he aligned the horses between reins and bit, controlled slow and fast with a light breath from lips and tongue, set the measure in his breast, and held the whip and staff in his palm (“jie” means horsewhip and driving staff); inwardly he joined with the way of driving, outwardly he joined with the minds of the horses, and thus he could advance and retreat along the straight road (“sheng” is a metaphor for straightness) and turn in accord with the compass (“qu” accords with the compass; “yuan” means round). He both went far and had surplus strength—truly he had mastered the art of driving.

Likewise, power and authority are the ruler’s carriage, and great ministers are the horses harnessed to the ruler’s carriage. If the body departs from the security of the carriage and the hand loses the rhythm of driving the horses, trouble will arise—governing the state should likewise be one body of carriage, horses, and ruler; one must not let the body leave its position or the hand lose its rhythm.

Classic: Huainan Honglie Jie (Explanation of the Huainanzi)

From ancient times to the present, no one has ever been heard of who could remain forever free from danger while placed in a perilous situation. Therefore, if horse and carriage are not well matched, even Wang Liang, who was skilled at driving, cannot keep to the proper road; if ruler and ministers are not in harmony, even sage kings like Tang and Yu cannot govern the world well. If one relies only on a single set of statecraft techniques to control others, the wisdom of men like Guan Zhong and Yan Ying will also be exhausted; if names, roles, powers, and responsibilities are clearly defined and shown to people, great villains like Dao Zhi and Zhuang Qiao will also restrain themselves. (Dao Zhi was a great robber contemporary with Confucius; Qiao refers to Zhuang Qiao, a general under King Wei of Chu, who could stir up great chaos.)

Leaning over the well railing and looking down into the well, no matter how good one’s eyesight, one cannot clearly see the pupil (the pupil is the eyeball); if one borrows a mirror to direct light and illuminate it, then even a fine hair or a millimeter can be seen clearly. (The mirror is one that reflects a person; “fen” may refer to a fine hair, and one interpretation takes it as a flaw.) Therefore, the enlightened ruler need not weary his ears and eyes or exhaust his spirit: when things arrive, he observes their forms; when affairs arrive, he follows their transformations and responds. What is near is not thrown into disorder, and what is far is naturally at peace. He need not gamble on chance luck but only practices the inevitable Dao (the Way); thus in all undertakings and measures he will not miscalculate.

As for one who drives a carriage, if the horses’ bodies match the carriage and his intention matches the horses, then there is nothing he cannot do—crossing mountains and passing through danger, traveling far and roaming widely, advancing and retreating as he wishes. Even if there are fine horses like Qiji and Luer, if they are handed over to Zang Huo (an ancient man who could not drive, said to be from Lu) to drive, the horses will instead run wild, and the man can no longer control them. Therefore, one who governs the state does not value subjects and people thinking themselves right, but values making them unable to do wrong. Hence it is said: do not let people have an opportunity for desire, and do not wait for them to say, “I do not seek”; do not let people have a gap for seizure, and do not wait for them to say, “I do not contend.” In this way people each attain their proper place, and public justice can be carried out throughout the world. The worthy take laws and standards as their correction, and those who are deficient are made complete through appointment; only then can the four seas be unified.

If one sets aside duties and listens only to praise and blame, abandons public merit and employs factions (“public” means fair and just), then those of extraordinary talent and frivolous cleverness will overstep their ranks and advance rashly. (“Extraordinary talent” refers to uncommon ability; frivolous cleverness is ultimately not pure worthiness, so “ganci” means seeking advancement out of order.) Those who hold office will be blocked and unable to advance. In this way the common people are disordered below, and meritorious ministers contend at court. (When extraordinary, frivolous people overstep ranks and interfere in government, meritorious ministers in turn are not prominent; therefore they contend at court.) Laws and measures are what the ruler uses to restrain his subjects; if he sets them aside and does not use them, he is like one without eyes and is blind.

Vernacular Interpretation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

When the ruler himself takes the reins and drives the chariot at a gallop, the ministers and common people instead seize the opportunity to toy with him in the palms of their hands. Thus, with ability one can control others; without ability one is controlled by others (seized and controlled by them). A great fish that can swallow a boat, once it leaves the water and drifts about, will be subdued by ants—that the fish can swallow a boat speaks to its enormous size; its proper dwelling is water. A monkey that leaves the dense forest will be seized by foxes, because that is not the place where it ought to be. If the ruler abandons his proper role and contends with his ministers for power, officials will occupy their posts doing nothing (remain inactive yet keep their positions). Those who guard their duties will cater to the ruler’s preferences in order to please him (follow the ruler’s desires to curry favor and secure themselves). Thereupon the ministers hide their wisdom and do not use it (do not use their intelligence to assist the ruler), but instead push matters onto the ruler for him to decide alone (virtuous ministers, seeing that the ruler will not heed counsel, shift responsibility to the ruler and let him act on his own. The Classic of Poetry says: Zhongshan Fu was both bright and wise, and thereby preserved himself). The wealthy and noble should be diligent; the successful and prominent should be clear-sighted; the arrogant and self-indulgent should be respectful. No one’s power and influence can match the ruler’s—yet if the ruler does not employ the worthy and capable (does not use the intelligence of his ministers) but prefers to do everything himself, his wisdom will daily dry up, and all responsibility will fall on his own shoulders. When those below have exhausted their wisdom, he cannot uphold principle; when the state’s affairs are corrupted, he cannot decide matters arbitrarily on his own. If his wisdom is insufficient to govern the state and his authority insufficient to carry out punishments, he will be unable to engage with all under Heaven. If joy and anger are displayed in his heart and desires are exposed outwardly, those who hold office will deviate from the upright Way and flatter their superiors (bend and comply), and officials will pervert the law to ingratiate themselves (obey the ruler’s commands). When rewards do not match merit and punishments do not fit crimes, superior and inferior become estranged, and ruler and ministers resent one another. When those in power flatter the ruler, his faults cannot be called to account; when there are crimes but no punishment is carried out, the hundred officials fall into confusion, and no wisdom can resolve it. Slander and praise arise on all sides, and even clear-sighted scrutiny cannot illuminate them; if he does not rectify the root but instead cultivates himself, the more the ruler labors, the more at ease the ministers become. This is like replacing the cook to butcher and cut, replacing the master carpenter to hew and chop, or racing against a horse: even if the reins break, one cannot catch up; one mounts the carriage and takes the reins, yet the horse dies beneath the shafts. Therefore, just as Bo Le appraises horses and Wang Liang drives a chariot, an enlightened ruler should employ the worthy and capable.

Follow the patterns of things, and without the driver exhausting himself one can reach a thousand li away; this is because one borrows the strength of others and takes them as wings. Therefore, a ruler should practice Wuwei (non-action) while holding fast to what must be maintained, and act without partiality. Once a ruler has preferences, slander will breed; once he has favorites, flatterers will seize the opportunity to rise.

In former times, Duke Huan of Qi loved fine food, so Yi Ya cooked his own son and presented him to be eaten. The Lord of Yu coveted treasures, so Duke Xian of Jin enticed him with jade disks and fine horses. The King of Hu loved music, so Duke Mu of Qin seduced him with singers, dancers, and musicians. In all these cases, because they coveted gain, they were controlled by others.

Thus, one who is good at establishing the root cannot have that root pulled up. Though fire is hot, water can still extinguish it; though metal is hard, fire can still melt it; though trees are tough, the axe can still fell them; though flowing water is ceaseless, earth can still dam it. Only the transformative power of creation—the natural force that creates and nurtures all things—has nothing that can overcome it.

When inner desires are not displayed outwardly, this is called “bolting” (jiong); when external evil thoughts do not enter the mind, this is called “sealing” (sai). With the inner restrained and the outer blocked, how could one’s actions lose their measure? With the outer blocked and the inner restrained, what is there that cannot be accomplished? Only by not using things rashly can one truly use them well; only by not acting recklessly can one accomplish anything.

When the Shen (spirit) is overworked it disperses; when the ears and eyes indulge in sounds and colors they become exhausted. Therefore, the ruler who possesses the Dao eliminates distracting thoughts, casts off selfishness, and waits with a mind of clarity, stillness, and emptiness. He does not boast of his own words or encroach on the duties of others; he examines actual results according to names and stations and lets the hundred officials each bear their responsibilities. He does not direct every matter or instruct repeatedly; instead, he takes “not knowing” as the way of governance and values “having no recourse” as precious. The Dao is prized for having no fixed form or trace; precisely because it is formless, it is not constrained by things. In this way, the hundred officials attend to affairs, each with a duty, without departing from their respective spheres.

Grasping the key to authority makes it easy to transform the people by means of it. The Lord of Wei was able to command Lu Quan because Lu Quan’s power was weighty. Duke Jing and Duke Huan were able to make Guan Zhong and Yan Ying their ministers because Guan Zhong, in assisting Duke Huan, and Yan Ying, in assisting Duke Jing, held honored positions. The timid can make the brave submit, and the dull can restrain the clever, all because the authority on which they rely surpasses the other’s. Therefore, branches cannot be thicker than the trunk, and twigs cannot be stronger than the root.

A Plain-Language Interpretation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

The light and the heavy, the large and the small can check one another, just as the five fingers all grow from a single arm. Grasping, gripping, taking, and swift movement—none fails to follow the intention of the whole arm. This is what is meant by the small being subordinate to the large.

Therefore, those who occupy a position of power may hold something very small in their hands, yet be able to preserve a very large situation; the points they guard may be very few (“yue” means crucial, concise, and few in number), yet the scope they control can be very broad.

Thus it is said: a tree ten arm-spans around can support a roof frame weighing a thousand jun, and a five-inch door bolt can govern the opening and closing of a door. Is it really enough that the timber or iron itself be big and heavy? The key lies in where it is placed.

Confucius and Mozi cultivated the Way of the former sages and mastered the teachings of the Six Arts. They spoke their learning with their mouths and put their aspirations into practice in their persons. Yet those who admired benevolence and righteousness, followed the fashion, and worked for them numbered no more than a few dozen. If they were made to sit on the throne of the Son of Heaven, the world would probably be filled everywhere with the Confucian and Mohist schools (“bian” means complete, all).

King Zhuang of Chu was furious that Wen Wuwei had been killed in Song. He shook out his sleeves and rose; along the road garments and caps joined one after another, and in the end he assembled an army beneath the walls of Song’s capital—this is the weight of authority. (Note: King Zhuang was the son of Shangchen, King Mu of Chu, and his personal name was Lü. He once sent Shen Zhou to Qi on a diplomatic mission, instructing him not to ask Song for passage. Wen Wuwei said, “They may not necessarily kill me”; King Zhuang said, “If they kill you, I will attack Song.” When Shen Zhou passed through Song without asking passage, Hua Yuan said: “To pass through our state without greeting us is to look down on us; if we are looked down on, the state will be in danger. Therefore using troops to kill an envoy is also defensible.” So they killed Shen Zhou. When King Zhuang heard this, he was enraged; he pulled up his sleeves and raised troops, and the army reached beneath the walls of Song. Hence it says that authority carries weight.)

King Wen of Chu liked to wear the Xie cap (a type of headgear), and the people of Chu all imitated him. (King Wen was Xiong Zi, son of Xiong Tong, King Wu of Chu; caps such as the Xiezhi crown—later the censor’s crown developed from this.) King Wuling of Zhao went to court wearing a shell-decorated belt and a Junyi cap, and the people of Zhao also changed their dress in imitation. (King Wuling lived after the Spring and Autumn period; he used large shells to decorate belts and adopted Hu dress; Junyi is pronounced like “sipitou”; Guoluo belt ornaments, yao and hao, and the like were names of dress and accessories at the time.)

But if a commoner in plain cloth were to wear a Xiezhi cap, tie on a shell belt, and put on a Junyi cap to go to court, he could not escape being laughed at. (Junyi is “sipitou”; here it is a character used for dress, and the pronunciation follows the old gloss.)

Whatever the common people like, even the Yuezheng (the official in charge of rites and music) cannot stop it; those who can discipline themselves according to the standards are hard to find even one in ten thousand. Those in lower positions must carry out the orders of those above to the end: compliance brings benefit; resistance brings disaster.

Vernacular Interpretation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

Before armed force is actually used, the people under Heaven have already submitted to the proper Way. (“Sheng” is here interchangeable with “zheng,” meaning restraint in accord with the proper Way.) Thus, if one merely grips the blade and confronts the opponent head-on in a “separating” standoff, men like Beigongzi and Sima Kuaikui would not be dispatched to meet the enemy. (Beigongzi was a man of Qi—the Beigong mentioned in the Mencius—and symbolizes bravery and martial prowess. Sima Kuaikui’s ancestor was Chengbo Xiufu; King Xuan of Zhou ordered him to take charge of military administration, hence the Sima clan; after Zhou declined, his descendants drifted to other states. Kuaikui was famed in Yue for swordsmanship; “meeting the enemy” means taking up a sword in battle.) If one only holds the hilt and raises the sword’s tip, even an ordinary person can win. (“Gu” is the sword hilt; “zhao” means to raise.)

But if Wuhuo and Jifan (both legendary strongmen) pull an ox by the tail from behind, even if the tail breaks the ox will not follow—that goes against the ox’s nature. If one pierces its nose with a mulberry twig, a five-foot child can lead it throughout the four seas—that follows the ox’s nature.

A seven-foot oar can steer a boat left and right because it relies on water. (“Nao” is pronounced as in “fannao” and means oar.) When the Son of Heaven issues orders and enforces prohibitions, he relies on the people as his momentum and prestige. Only by guarding against what harms the people and opening up what benefits them can awe-inspiring commands be carried out. It is like opening a sluice to release water or breaching a dike to let water out (“jian” means releasing water; “tang” means embankment; both concern stored water). Going downstream makes arrival easy; galloping with the wind makes distant travel easy—both are cases of acting by borrowing momentum.

In Duke Huan of Qi’s administration there were three measures the people found beneficial: driving off flesh-eating beasts, shooting crop-eating birds, and removing nets that harmed people. King Zhou killed Prince Bigan, and his royal kin resented him; he cut off the shins of those wading in the morning, and the myriad people turned against him—with two more atrocities, the world would abandon him. Thus “righteousness” does not benefit all under Heaven all at once; it first benefits one person, and the people of the world follow the trend and submit. Tyranny, too, does not harm all within the seas all at once; it harms one person, and the people of the world scatter and turn against him. Duke Huan made three moves and nine times assembled the feudal lords; King Zhou made two moves and could not even remain an ordinary commoner. Therefore measures must be taken with great caution. (“Three moves” refers to removing the flesh-eating beasts, the grain-eating birds, and tying up the nets; “two moves” refers to killing Bigan and cutting off the shins of the morning water-crosser.)

When a ruler levies taxes and collects grain from the people, he must first estimate the year’s harvest and assess the people’s accumulated reserves.

The enlightened ruler knows thoroughly the measures of famine and abundance, surplus and insufficiency, and only then does he make use of carriages, clothing, and food to nourish his own desires. High terraces and tiered pavilions, connected houses and linked chambers, are not unlovely; but when the people have no caves or narrow huts in which to find shelter, the enlightened ruler does not take pleasure in them (he does not delight in their excessive splendor). Rich, strong, sweet, and crisp foods are not un-delicious; but when among the people there are those whose chaff, bran, beans, and millet do not suffice to reach their mouths, the enlightened ruler does not regard them as sweet (he does not relish their excessive richness). A comfortable bed and a fine rush mat are not uncomfortable (kuang means comfortable; ruo means fine); but when among the people there are those in border towns, encountering danger and hardship, dying in marshes, and leaving their corpses exposed in the wild, the enlightened ruler is not at ease in them (he is not at ease in the comfort of a comfortable bed and fine rush mat).

Therefore those who governed states in antiquity were exceedingly compassionate toward the people. When the state had starving people, he himself did not eat two dishes; when the people suffered cold, in winter he himself did not wear fur (sharing cold and hunger with the people). Only when the harvest was good and the people were bountiful did they begin to hang bells and drums and set out shields and axes (deng means completion, when the year’s grain is ripe and abundant). Ruler and ministers, high and low, were of one heart and rejoiced, and in the state there were no grieving or suffering people (meaning that all rejoiced).

Therefore in antiquity the making of metal and stone instruments, pipes, and strings was to spread joy (metal bells, stone chimes, bamboo pipes, and stringed qin and se); weapons, leather armor, axes, and halberds were to express anger; the rites of cups and pouring vessels, stands and dishes, toasting and returning toasts were to emulate good conduct (xiao means to bring about); mourning garments, hemp bands, and straw sandals, the beating of the breast and stamping of the feet, and weeping and wailing were to make clear grief (yu means to make clear). All these have something full and substantial within that is manifested without (chong means full/substantial).

When it came to benighted and disorderly rulers, they demanded from the people without measuring their strength (cai means measure), and sought from those below without estimating their stored reserves. Men and women could not engage in the work of farming and weaving to supply the demands from above (shi means to manage; ye means work); their strength was spent and their wealth exhausted, and ruler and ministers resented one another. Thus the people came to have scorched lips and boiling livers, with food for today but no store for tomorrow, and only then did the ruler begin to strike the great bells, beat the sounding drums, blow the yu and sheng, and pluck the qin and se. This is like putting on armor and helmet to enter the ancestral temple, or draping fine silk to join the army: it loses the root from which joy arises. For the people to live, one person treads the plough and cultivates…

Huainan Honglie Jie: A Vernacular Interpretation

When one person cultivates land, at most he can work no more than ten mu of middling field, and the annual yield per mu is no more than four shi of grain. Wife and children, the elderly and the weak depend below on this grain, while he must also frequently endure the disasters of waterlogging (cen: prolonged rain and accumulated water) and drought, and further pay taxes above and meet expenses for carts, horses, weapons, and the like. From this perspective, a person's whole life is filled with troubles and anxieties, with no ease or happiness to speak of.

Given the vastness of Heaven and Earth, by calculation: if three years of farming leave a surplus of one year's grain, then after nine years there will be a three-year accumulation; after eighteen years there will be a six-year store (jiwei: stored grain); after twenty-seven years there will be a nine-year reserve. Even if disasters such as waterlogging and drought occur, the common people will not be reduced to destitution and wandering.

Therefore, when a state lacks a nine-year reserve, it is called "insufficient"; when it lacks a six-year store, it is called "critical distress and anxiety" (minji: anxious illness and urgency); when it lacks a three-year reserve, it is called "impoverished and lacking."

Thus, if there is a benevolent ruler and enlightened lord who takes from those below with moderation and sustains himself within limits, then he can receive what Heaven and Earth bestow and will not suffer the hardship of hunger and cold. If, however, one encounters a greedy ruler and violent lord who below disturbs the common people, encroaches upon and exploits them to satisfy endless desires, then the people will be unable to receive the Qi of Heavenly Harmony (tianhe: the Qi of nature) or to tread upon the life generated by Earthly De (dide: the myriad things produced by the great earth).

Food is the foundation of the people, the people are the foundation of the state, and the state is the foundation of the ruler. Therefore the ruler of men should: above, comply with the seasons of Heaven; below, fully use the resources of the Earth; in the middle, employ human strength. In this way the myriad things can grow, and the five grains can be planted abundantly. He teaches the people to raise the six domestic animals, to plant trees in season, to devote effort to repairing and tending the fields, and to plant mulberry and hemp. Fertile land, barren land, high land, and low land are each used according to what suits them. Where hills, slopes, and perilous ground cannot grow the five grains, bamboo and trees are planted. In spring they cut dead trees; in summer they gather fruits (guo: those with pits; luo: those without pits); in autumn they store vegetables and food (shu: vegetables; shi: grain); in winter they cut firewood (xin: large firewood; zheng: small firewood), as resources for the common people's use.

Therefore, while alive they lack nothing for use, and when dead they are not left as abandoned corpses (zhuan: to discard). Thus the rules of the former kings stipulated: in hunting, do not surround and hunt an entire herd (yan: to kill all); do not capture fawns and young animals (mi: deer fawns; yao: fawns of fawns); do not drain lakes and marshes to catch fish (heze: to dry up waters and marshes).

This passage comes from the Huainan Honglie Jie. It explains that the former kings acted according to the seasonal ordinances and the nature of things, did not “exhaust things,” and so natural abundance followed; government affairs, too, were arranged in accord with celestial patterns and the monthly ordinances.

On Taking and Prohibitions

In fishing and hunting, ponds and lakes must not be drained and emptied of every catch, for that would cut off the means of life. Before the season of “jackals sacrificing beasts” (chai ji shou)—around the tenth month, when jackals display the beasts they have hunted on four sides, which popular custom calls sacrificing beasts—nets and snares for catching animals may not be spread in the fields. Before “otters sacrificing fish” (ta ji yu)—according to the Mingtang Yueling, in the first month of spring otters catch carp and display them by the water, which is called sacrificing fish—nets may not be put into the water. Before hawks and falcons have become “fierce” (zhi; around the Beginning of Autumn, when they are fierce and may be used), nets may not be spread in streams and valleys. Before grass and trees have shed their leaves, axes may not enter the mountains. Before insects have gone into hibernation, fields may not be burned. Pregnant birds and beasts may not be killed, eggs may not be taken, fish less than one chi long may not be caught, and pigs less than one full year old may not be slaughtered for food—all this is to avoid “exhausting things,” that is, driving living creatures to utter extinction.

Thus vegetation sprouted and grew as if spring Qi were steaming upward; birds and beasts gathered as if a hundred rivers were converging; flying birds flocked as mist and clouds gather and scatter. All this was because there were regulations and seasonal ordinances, not because people took whatever their desires prompted.

The Government of the Former Kings and the Monthly Ordinances

In the government of the former kings: when the cloud Qi of the four seas was about to arrive, they repaired the boundaries (after the Beginning of Spring, the four seas emit clouds). When frogs croaked and swallows and sparrows arrived, they cleared and opened the roads (third month). When Yin Qi descended and the hundred springs gushed forth, they repaired bridges (tenth month). When “Zhang culminated at dusk” (Zhang, one of the seven mansions of the Vermilion Bird of the South; around the third month at dusk the Zhang star culminates), they labored at planting grain. When “the Great Fire culminated” (the Xin mansion of the seven mansions of the Azure Dragon of the East; around the fourth month, the si month, in the south), they planted millet and shu, that is, beans. When “Xu culminated” (the Xu mansion of the Black Tortoise of the North; around the eighth month, the you month, in the south), they planted overwintering melons and the like. When “Mao culminated” (the Mao mansion of the White Tiger of the West; late autumn), they gathered in and stored provisions and cut firewood and kindling. They reported above to Heaven and proclaimed below to the people—by this the former kings were able to bring all under Heaven to peace and security.

Note

Phrases in the text such as “jackals sacrificing beasts” and “otters sacrificing fish” were ancient seasonal markers signaled by animal behavior; they were equivalent to the signal that “hunting and fishing may begin,” and were not religious sacrifices in the modern sense. The lunar mansions and monthly ordinances agree with the traditions of the Huainanzi and the Yueling (Monthly Ordinances). What is discussed is the synchronization of government orders with agricultural seasons and natural signs, so as to avoid harming Heaven’s order and injuring living things.

To cultivate and manage reserves in accordance with the seasons, enrich the state and benefit the people, replenish what is empty and lacking, and attract people from distant places—only then is the way of governing complete. This is not something that can be achieved merely by seeing with the eyes or measuring step by step with the feet; the key lies in always keeping the thought of benefiting the people in the mind. So long as one does not forget the thought of “benefiting the people,” the various offices and institutions will of themselves become fully provided.

The relationship between the mind and the nine apertures and four limbs is this: the mind itself cannot take the place of the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, hands, or feet to do any single task, and yet a person’s movement and stillness, hearing and seeing all take the mind as their master. Precisely because the mind does not forget to benefit the people, Yao single-mindedly practiced good, and all good gathered around him; Jie single-mindedly did evil, and all evils came crowding in. When good accumulates to a certain degree, meritorious works naturally come to completion; when evil accumulates to its extreme, calamity reaches its end.

People generally discussing the cultivation of the self and the governance of the state often say: the mind should be small while aspiration should be great; wisdom should be round while conduct should be square; talents should be many while handling affairs should be simple.

The mind should be small: before misfortune has yet sprouted, one thinks ahead and guards against it; before disaster has yet broken out, one is preemptively on alert; one is warned by faults and cautious in subtle matters, not daring to indulge one’s desires. As the Book of Songs says of King Wen, “cautious and reverent, he brightly served God on High, and so embraced many blessings”—this is precisely the attitude meant.

Aspiration should be great: embrace the ten thousand states within one’s breast, make lands of differing customs uniform, and broadly cover the common people as if uniting them into one clan.

Wisdom should be round (“yuan” means round): like a ring revolving back and forth, head and tail joining with no endpoint (like linked rings, hence “no endpoint”), flowing out to the side and reaching in all directions, like an unfailing spring from a deep source; when the myriad things rise together, none fails to respond and harmonize. (“Ying” means harmonize.)

Conduct should be square: stand upright and straight, neither yielding nor bent (“nao” means weak or bent); preserve one’s plain white original nature, undefiled; in hardship do not change one’s integrity, and in success do not let one’s ambition run loose (“si” means to indulge).

Talents should be many: possess both civil and martial capacities; movement and stillness both conform to ritual propriety; action and cessation both fully attain what is fitting, with no conflict or rupture (“ji” means conflict; “li” means rupture or discord), nothing not exactly appropriate.

Handling affairs should be simple (“xian” means few/simple): hold the reins of authority and grasp the method, seize the essential point to respond to the multitude; govern broad affairs with a concise contract; abide in stillness and hold to the middle way, revolving like the jade pivot of the armillary sphere (the axle of an ancient astronomical instrument, a metaphor for the pivot), using the one to encompass the ten thousand, fitting together like matching tallies (“fu” means tally or contract).

Therefore: when the mind is small, one has something to guard against in subtle matters; when aspiration is great, there is nothing one does not embrace (“huai” means to contain or accept); when wisdom is round, there is nothing one does not know; when conduct is square, there are things one will not do (one does not do what is not the right way); when talents are many, there is nothing one does not govern (“zhi” means to implement or bring to completion); when affairs are simple, what one holds fast to is the essential and concise (“yue” means the essential point).

Vernacular Interpretation

In ancient times, when the Son of Heaven handled court affairs, the Three Dukes had to offer forthright remonstrance, the court erudites recited the Odes and Documents, blind musicians gave admonition through maxims, music officials relayed the opinions of the common people, scribes recorded transgressions, and cooks administered reproof through food and drink; even so, they still felt this was not enough.

Therefore Yao established the “Drum of Bold Remonstrance” (so that anyone wishing to remonstrate could beat the drum), Shun erected the “Board of Criticism” (on which people could write opinions, favorable or unfavorable), Tang of Shang appointed the Official of Rectitude (an office name meaning impartial and without favor), and King Wu of Zhou hung up the “Pellet Drum of Caution” (when the ruler had doubts, he would shake this drum to alert himself), so that even a fault as small as a hair’s breadth would be corrected.

The sage does every good, however small, and corrects every fault, however slight. Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen, and King Wu all calmly faced south as rulers of the world (with their backs to the screen and their faces toward the feudal lords). In those days they ate to the beating of the gao drum (royal dining music; the Odes say, “They beat the bells and struck the chime stones”), had the “Yong” performed as the mats were removed (music for the meal), and after eating, when sacrificing to the stove, did not employ shamans or prayer-officials (being sufficient in virtue, they did not rely on divine power). Ghosts and spirits did not dare to make mischief, and mountains and rivers did not dare to send down calamity; this may be called supreme nobility—yet sages such as these still trod on thin ice day after day. The Odes say of King Wen, “Cautious and reverent, he brightly served the Lord on High”; this is exactly what is meant.

After King Wu overthrew the tyrant Zhou of Shang, he opened the granaries and distributed the grain of Juqiao (some say Juqiao was a bridge for canal transport), dispersed the silver and treasures of Lutai (to relieve the famine-stricken), repaired and roofed over the tomb of Bi Gan (Bi Gan was Zhou’s uncle and was killed for remonstrating), marked and honored the native place of Shang Rong (Shang Rong was a worthy man of Yin; it is said that Laozi once asked him about the Dao and learned the practice of guarding softness), and paid homage at the temple of Cheng Tang—all of this shows that true sage-kings were self-confident yet not complacent, governing the world with utter sincerity and reverence.

This passage of scripture discusses how the sage governs the world, how he conducts himself, and how Confucius behaved in adversity. The following explains it paragraph by paragraph in plain language.

Cheng Tang and Jizi

Cheng Tang was the Son of Heaven who received the mandate for the Yin dynasty. The text says that the sage gathers those of his own kind—those of like kind follow one another—and wins people over by De (Virtue/Power). “Releasing Jizi from prison”: Jizi was King Zhou’s elder half-brother by a concubine, and the Analects says that Jizi had once been a slave. After King Wu attacked Zhou, he pardoned him from imprisonment, consulted him about the Hongfan (Great Plan), and enfeoffed him in Korea. The sage lets each person dwell in his own house and cultivate his own field; he does not seize fields because of old grudges, nor show partiality because of new favorites; he befriends only the worthy. He does not use what is not his to use, nor employ those who are not the right people for the task; everything remains as usual, as if it had originally been so. From this one can see the greatness of the sage’s aspiration.

King Wen and the Mingtang

King Wen surveyed all gains and losses and reviewed all right and wrong. The reasons Yao and Shun flourished and Jie and Zhou perished were all recorded in the Mingtang (Hall of Brightness; “zhu” means to depict or record). Thus, with strategic wisdom and broad learning, he responded without fixed method. From this one can see the completeness—the “roundness”—of the sage’s wisdom. Kings Cheng and Kang inherited the enterprise of Wen and Wu, maintained the Mingtang system, and observed the traces of survival and ruin and the transformations of success and failure: what was not in accord with the Dao they did not speak (what was not the sage’s intent, they did not dare to utter); what was not righteous they did not do (what was not benevolent and right, they did not dare to practice). Their words were not uttered carelessly, and their actions were not undertaken carelessly; they chose what was good and only then acted. From this one can see the squareness—the rectitude—of the sage’s conduct.

Confucius

Confucius’s penetrating wisdom surpassed that of Chang Hong (a Zhou grand officer and minister of King Jing, known as one who understood the great Dao), and his courage could subdue Meng Ben (a warrior). He could overtake a hare in the outskirts on foot, and with his strength he could lift a city gate bar (with one hand he could grasp the end of a city gate bar and raise it); his abilities were many indeed. Yet his courage and strength were not heard of by others, and his skills and cleverness were not known by others. He devoted himself single-mindedly to the way of filial piety and became the Uncrowned King (Suwang); such a thing is rare indeed. The Spring and Autumn covers two hundred forty-two years; it records fifty-two fallen states and thirty-six murdered rulers. By gathering the good and eradicating the ugly in order to complete the Kingly Way, his discussions were also broad indeed. Yet when he was besieged in Kuang (a town of Song, now Kuang Ting west of Xiangyi in Chen), his expression did not change, and he did not stop strumming and singing (Confucius said, “Heaven produced the De in me; what can the men of Kuang do to me?”). Facing a place of death and braving the peril of hardship and calamity, he relied on righteousness and acted according to principle, and his resolve was not intimidated. From this one can see the profundity of the sage’s De.

Summary

King Wen, King Wu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius—their roundness of wisdom, squareness of conduct, and profundity of De were all like this. The sage is not incapable of acting, but there are things he does not do; he is not incapable of speaking, but there are things he does not say. Guarding the Dao, guarding righteousness, choosing the good and following it, he could therefore become the Uncrowned King and complete the Kingly Way. That his courage, strength, skills, and cleverness were unknown to others is precisely the manifestation of profound De, great aspiration, rounded wisdom, and square conduct.

Vernacular Explanation of the Huainan Honglie Jie

This point is also very clear: even when he merely incurred offense, met with calamity, or was seized by others, Confucius still harbored fear in his heart. When he served as Minister of Crime of Lu—the office in charge of prisons and punishments—he always personally adjudicated cases. “To serve as Minister of Crime of Lu” means to hold the post of Minister of Crime in Lu.

Confucius composed the Chunqiu and did not speak of ghosts and spirits; he did not dare to decide arbitrarily or solely on his own. The sage’s wisdom was already high, yet the essential points he held to were very simple; therefore every action and gesture of his could shine brilliantly.

Foolish people are inherently short on wisdom, yet the affairs they undertake are many; as soon as they act, they inevitably fall into difficulty. The wisdom of Wu Qi and Zhang Yi was not equal to that of Confucius and Mozi, yet they contended for power with rulers who possessed ten thousand chariots—this is why they came to be torn apart by chariots or dismembered. Transforming the world by the upright Dao is easy and certain to succeed; deluding the world by crooked and clever arts is difficult and certain to fail. Whoever wishes to establish De (Virtue/Power) and act in the world, if they abandon the easy way to success and undertake what is difficult to accomplish and certain to fail, does so because of foolishness. These “six reversals” must not be left unexamined. (“Six reversals” refers to conduct contrary to the way of Confucius and Mozi: Chang Hong, Meng Ben, Wu Qi, Zhang Yi, and others; their actions were contrary to Confucius and Mozi, hence they are called the six reversals.)

To know only the principles of the myriad things but not the human Dao cannot be called wisdom; to love only the multitude of beings but not humankind cannot be called Ren (benevolence). The benevolent love their own kind. The wise cannot be blinded; even when the benevolent are engaged in punishment and severing, an expression of unwillingness will appear on their faces. (The expression of unwillingness—even when wise and carrying out severing—shows on the face.) The wise, even when handling troublesome and difficult matters, can be seen to be unconfused and able to achieve results.

Inwardly extending oneself to others and turning back to seek within oneself: what one does not wish to endure in one’s heart, one does not impose on others; from the near to understand the far, from oneself to understand others—this is the practice of uniting wisdom and action. Apply education in small matters, and only then can great matters be preserved; apply reproof in small matters, and only then can great matters be peaceful. (By instructing small matters with the upright Dao, the great whole can be preserved; by reproving sparingly with righteousness, the great whole can be peaceful. Without uprightness it cannot be preserved; without righteousness it cannot be peaceful.) Extending and practicing the heart of compassion—this is the standard by which the wise make independent judgments.

Therefore Ren and wisdom sometimes coincide; when they coincide, there is correctness. Sometimes they diverge; when they diverge, there is expedient adaptation—righteousness and principle are originally one body. The government clerk upholds the law; the noble person judges by righteousness. If there is only law and no righteousness, one is merely a government clerk and insufficient to govern the state.

Farming is toilsome work; weaving is toilsome work. The common people do not decline the trouble and toil because they know they can thereby clothe and feed themselves.

Human existence depends on clothing and food, and the fundamental way to obtain these necessities begins with farming and weaving—a truth understood by all common people. Endeavors like farming and weaving may be arduous at first, but they inevitably yield benefits in the end. The foolish often see only immediate gains, rarely weighing pros and cons, while the wise consider matters comprehensively, preparing what should be prepared and evaluating what requires deliberation, thus seldom falling into distress.

Therefore, the wise often endure hardship first and achieve success later (the character "忤" signifies opposition or adversity), whereas fools enjoy pleasure at the outset only to end in sorrow. It's easy to answer questions like "What brings honor today and aligns with the Dao (the Way) tomorrow?" But truly understanding "how to practice righteousness today and attain glory tomorrow" is far more challenging. It's like asking a blind musician, "What does white look like?" He might say, "Like raw silk," and for black, "Like ink." Yet when presented with actual white or black objects to touch, he cannot distinguish them. People perceive black and white with their eyes and describe them with words; though the blind can articulate these colors, they cannot truly experience them—this is the fundamental difference between the sighted and the blind.

At home, filial piety toward parents; in public, loyalty to one's ruler—whether foolish or wise, virtuous or unworthy, all know these are duties. But when it comes to practicing loyalty and filial devotion, few grasp their profound meaning. When people deliberate, they first deem something feasible before acting, yet outcomes may be right or wrong—this very distinction reveals the difference between wisdom and folly. In human nature, nothing is more precious than benevolence (Ren) and nothing more vital than wisdom (Zhi). Taking benevolence as the root and applying wisdom in practice form the foundation of human conduct. Supplement these with courage, eloquence, agility, diligence, and dexterity, and one approaches perfection. But without the core of benevolence and wisdom, an abundance of talents may instead invite harm. For instance, an unkind person's boldness resembles a madman wielding a sharp sword (the character "狂" denotes frenzy), while an unwise person's eloquence is like abandoning a thousand-mile steed without knowing how to ride it (the term "怀给" refers to glib talk). Even with ability, if misapplied or misplaced, such skills become tools for fostering hypocrisy and concealing faults. Rather than mastering numerous arts while losing the essence, it's better to uphold the Dao of benevolence and wisdom.

Huainan Honglie Jie, Volume 15: A Vernacular Interpretation

When Few and Weak, One Must Not Recklessly Lend Power and Authority. One must not casually hand advantages and power to a person harboring ambition; nor must one put “sharp instruments” into the hands of a person of dull natural endowments—what Laozi calls “the sharp instruments of the state cannot be shown to others.”

Fish and Water, Ponds and Dikes. Fish can swim freely and live at ease only when they have water; if the pond bank bursts and the water dries up, the fish will be eaten by ants and grubs. Only if someone takes charge of repairing the dikes, stopping breaches, and patching leaks can the fish be secure and benefit. (The term zhang here means to preside over, to manage.) A state has a Dao (the Way) on which it depends for continued existence, and the people have a Dao on which they depend for survival—only when the state has people does the ruler survive, just as fish have water; only when the state is substantial and the people are prosperous can people live well.

Benevolence and Righteousness, and Doing Good. A state can survive because of benevolence and righteousness; a person can live because of doing good. A state without righteousness, though great, will surely perish—Jie and Zhou are cases in point. A person without a good heart, though brave, will surely be harmed—the Analects says: “Courage without ritual propriety leads to disorder, and disorder leads to injury.”

The “Superior Art” of Governing the State. In the Dao of governing a state, those above should ensure that subordinates need not be drawn into “the danger of ruin and injury”—not letting subordinates risk certain defeat and certain injury. This is the art of occupying the superior position.

Filial Piety, Fraternal Respect, Trustworthiness, and “What Cannot Be Achieved by Superior Orders.” Filial piety toward parents, fraternal respect toward elder brothers and sisters-in-law, and trustworthiness toward friends—none of these can be accomplished merely by an order from above. To set aside what one can practice oneself and instead force demands on people beyond one’s control is contrary to reason.

Low Status Yet Wishing to Rise: First Seek Within Oneself. A scholar of low status who wishes to become prominent must first seek it in himself. There is a path to rising: if reputation does not arise, one cannot rise. There is also a path to gaining reputation: if one is not trustworthy toward friends, one cannot gain reputation among friends. There is a path to winning friends’ trust: if serving one’s parents does not please them, one cannot win friends’ trust—if one cannot please relatives and friends, then conversely one will not be trusted by friends. There is a path to pleasing one’s parents: if self-cultivation is not sincere, one cannot serve one’s parents. There is a path to making oneself sincere: if the mind is not single-minded, one cannot be single-minded in sincerity.

The Dao Lies in What Is Easy, Yet People Seek It in What Is Difficult; Verification Lies Near, Yet People Seek It Far. The Dao originally lies in what is plain and easy—turning back to oneself, first cultivating one’s root. If one abandons the root and pursues the branches, then seeking the reputation of pleasing one’s parents and making oneself sincere becomes difficult; hence it is said, “The Dao lies in what is easy, yet people seek it in what is difficult.” Verification originally lies close at hand—the root. If one abandons the near and seeks the far—the branches—one will not obtain it; hence it is said, “Verification lies near, yet people seek it far, and therefore do not obtain it.”