《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 11

Ge Hong (Daoist name Baopuzi) in this chapter emphasizes the crucial importance of virtuous talents for governing a state. Using vivid analogies, he illustrates: just as one cannot cross boundless oceans without a light boat, a ruler without wise ministers can hardly achieve great peace. The wild goose soars through the skies by virtue of its strong wings, the dragon ascends the clouds supported by mist—likewise, recruiting worthy talents is the ruler's foremost duty, while accomplishing great deeds is the aspiration of capable individuals.

He points out that rulers who seek only comfort while neglecting strategists are as foolish as those who discard swift steeds yet wish to travel far. Enlightened rulers should: select overlooked talents from among commoners, appoint officials according to their abilities, and grant salaries based on merit. Worthy ministers, in turn, should: diligently attend to government affairs day and night, spare no effort in recommending the capable while dismissing the incompetent, and devote themselves fully to repaying the ruler's recognition.

Ge Hong criticizes the social conditions of his time: though the world abounds with reclusive sages, truly discerning rulers are rare. Scholars may withdraw from society and find contentment in seclusion, but a ruler without virtuous ministers cannot govern effectively. He cites historical examples: Fu Yue (wise minister of the Shang dynasty) and Jiang Ziya (founding hero of the Zhou dynasty) were not originally ambitious for fame, as true sages naturally transcend worldly power; yet King Gaozong of Shang and King Wen of Zhou eagerly sought talents because great achievements require the support of capable ministers.

The text sharply condemns those ignorant rulers born in palaces and raised among women: they understand neither the hardships of farming nor the principles of governance, indulging only in extravagance, revelry, and hunting. Such rulers judge talent by absurd standards—listening only to flattery and sensual pleasures, treating state affairs as child's play. Ge Hong laments: while rhinoceros horns, ivory, pearls, and jade flow in from distant lands, the true treasures that stabilize a nation (worthy talents) lie buried within the borders. To seek a skilled physician only when gravely ill or to summon strategists only in crisis is as senseless as digging a well during a fire or plowing fields when starving.

Finally, he stresses: even servants must be treated with care to gain their full devotion—how much more so in governing a state? How can one expect to suddenly acquire virtuous assistance in times of crisis without nurturing talent beforehand?