《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 16

Ge Hong (Baopuzi) discusses the proper way of friendship, stating that true companionship should never remain superficial. He criticizes those who judge relationships by external conditions—even if someone holds high status, enjoys good reputation, comes from an equivalent background, or is of similar age, one should never form deep bonds if their aspirations differ and pursuits contradict.

Many contemporary people make grave mistakes in friendship: some become arrogant upon achieving success, looking down on old friends; others disdain childhood companions of humble origins; still others choose friends solely by official rank rather than moral character. Consequently, truly talented and virtuous recluses go unappreciated, while mediocrities who happen to occupy high positions attract crowds of followers.

More despicable are those sycophants who curry favor with the powerful. They linger at the gates of the influential, bearing gifts with ingratiating smiles, flattering desperately to win patronage. If accepted, they rejoice like prisoners granted amnesty; if rejected, they grieve as if stricken by grave illness. Yet life's fortunes follow Heaven's decree—the true art of living lies in maintaining integrity.

Observing these vulgar customs evokes deep sighs. When Zhuangzi saw Huizi traveling with an extravagant entourage, he discarded his surplus fish—I share the same sentiment. Watching those scrambling in the arena of fame and profit, neglecting moral cultivation while busily networking and forming cliques, regarding worldly cunning as life's wisdom while labeling upright individuals as "socially inept," such distorted values are truly contemptible.

[Supplementary Notes]

1. "Baopuzi" was Ge Hong's sobriquet; he was a renowned Daoist scholar of the Eastern Jin dynasty

2. The reference to "Zhuangzi and Huizi" alludes to a classic Daoist parable where Zhuangzi's act of discarding fish satirizes Huizi's pursuit of pomp

3. "Socially inept" refers to straightforward people often disparaged in social contexts

4. This passage reflects the Daoist philosophy of valuing natural authenticity and opposing hypocritical social conventions

The text critiques certain negative social trends and people's utilitarian mentality prevalent at the time.

Some individuals with shallow virtue (De) occupy high positions—their eyes gleam at the sight of wealth, yet they grow drowsy when encountering worthy scholars. Toward impoverished scholars dressed in rags, leaning on staffs and carrying book satchels, even those of exceptional talent, they regard them as dust, paying no heed. In contrast, when facing the wealthy and powerful like Cheng Zheng, Wang Sun, or Luo Pou—even if these men are illiterate and cannot distinguish the five grains—they rush to greet them eagerly, sometimes not even bothering to fasten their shoes, spit out the food in their mouths, or finish combing their hair before receiving them.

The author laments that, not being in a position of authority, he cannot exile such corrupt individuals to remote regions. Though these people wield immense power, capable of moving mountains and draining seas, the author disdains associating with them. Tragically, many grovel before the powerful, seeking personal gain. Though born in the same enlightened age, some rise to prominence while others remain in hardship—all consequences of the different paths they choose.

Someone challenges the author: "Times change, and success requires others' support. Just as gold and jade must be transported by water, a divine bird needs wind to soar high, orchids require a breeze to spread their fragrance, and a recluse needs a patron to enter public service. With your exacting standards for friendship, isolating yourself and opposing worldly customs, how does this align with the Daoist principle of 'harmonizing the light and blending with the dust' (heguang tongchen)? If one only associates with intellectual equals, commoners would never host a noble like the Duke of Zhou. If interactions required matching talents, Confucius would have had no disciples."

The author responds: "True friendship lies in careful selection. The ancients first evaluated others before forming bonds, not the reverse. What you describe is the way of utilitarian people; what I uphold is the integrity of a recluse."

This passage presents Ge Hong (Daoist name Baopuzi)'s profound insights on human relationships. He argues that rather than pursuing empty fame and fleeting wealth, one should maintain noble character. Those whose reputations exceed their actual abilities often cannot avoid calamity, and associating with them may not bring true blessings.

Ge Hong employs a vivid metaphor: clinging to the powerful is like sheltering from rain beneath a rotten tree—when the tree itself may collapse at any moment, how can it protect you from being crushed? A true person of virtue rises above worldly concerns, regarding vulgar individuals as no more significant than lice on clothing or excess flesh on the body—their presence or absence makes little difference.

On the art of friendship, he emphasizes that genuine friends must be upright, sincere, and erudite, capable of pointing out one's faults. They neither flatter in life nor fabricate praise after death, remaining steadfast throughout. Yet such individuals are exceedingly rare. In reality, most human relationships resemble fish and birds keeping company or fire and ice sharing a vessel—superficially harmonious but ultimately unsustainable.

Ge Hong particularly criticizes the way worldly people form connections: they value only status and profit, currying favor when benefits arise but scattering at the first sign of trouble. They neither admonish friends for their faults nor rescue them when lost. They monopolize advantages and shift blame during crises. Such relationships, he concludes, are worse than having none at all.

In closing, he laments: the world is not devoid of worthy companions, but truly beneficial friendships are too few, while burdensome ties abound. Even sages struggle to fully discern human hearts—such is the rarity of true discernment. This passage embodies the Daoist wisdom of valuing inner cultivation and transcending worldly attachments.

To force those with limited talents and narrow perspectives to make numerous friends, while expecting them all to find companions who remain steadfast through adversity and support each other through hardship—I find such individuals exceedingly rare. It would be like searching for fine jade in a dirt mound or seeking phoenixes in sparrows' nests. Though not impossible, I cannot claim that places like Lantian (famed for jade) or Danxue (legendary phoenix roosts) are entirely devoid of such treasures—only that they are undeniably scarce.

People’s aspirations and principles differ as fundamentally as gold sinking while feathers float; their passions and pursuits diverge as sharply as fire rising and water descending. When natures are inherently opposed, not even the divine craftsman could forcibly make them alike—why insist otherwise?

By nature, I am slow-witted and innately indolent, averse to frivolous pastimes. Games like liubo and tanqi, pursuits such as horse racing, archery, or idle sightseeing—I partake in none of them. I particularly dislike jesting, yet these are precisely the amusements the world now craves. While others revel in them, I remain utterly disinterested, so friends and kin naturally drift away. Moreover, my blunt disposition favors candid counsel, but few welcome such bitter medicine. I often urge others to devote themselves to study and dissuade them from gambling and drunkenness—hardly popular advice. To betray my nature by conforming to trends, forcing myself into uncongenial roles—how could I? If I persist unaltered, am I not then out of step with the times, inept at navigating society?

Friendships abandoned midway leave both parties branded as petty, forfeiting the honor of steadfastness. Deep bonds foster closeness; shallow ties breed estrangement—such is the natural order. How can one not choose carefully? To seek a crowd of flawless friends based on fleeting camaraderie—clasping shoulders over wine or clasping hands in merriment—this is precisely what troubles me.

Someone might ask: "By your logic, should we then forsake friendship altogether?" Baopuzi replies: "How could that be? Must those who fear water destroy all boats, or those wary of injury discard their axes? The art of friendship has been valued since antiquity. Without the intercourse of heaven and earth, nothing would be born; without communication between ruler and minister, hearts would grow distant. If the Qi of heaven and earth failed to mingle, yin and yang would sever; if sovereign and subject’s wills opposed, the state would cease to be..."

This passage discusses the importance of friendship and how to choose companions wisely.

True friendships are difficult to establish yet easily broken, with the key factor being poor selection of companions. People often quarrel over trivial matters while forgetting greater principles. The Book of Songs praises sworn brotherhood, noting how sometimes friends surpass blood brothers. Confucius also advocated for "three beneficial friendships" (with the upright, the sincere, and the knowledgeable). Good friends can shield one from harmful influences, much like how Guan Zhong was spared execution through Bao Shuya's recommendation and went on to achieve greatness, or how Ziyuan (Chen Ping of Western Han) rose from minor official to high minister through friends' support.

A single string cannot produce harmonious music, nor can one color weave imperial dragon robes. A solitary spice cannot create fine cuisine, and a lone tree doesn't make a forest. The heights of Kunlun's Mystic Garden require accumulated stones; the vastness of the Southern Sea depends on converging rivers. A clear mirror reveals crooked hats, sunlight exposes bent shadows, straightening tools correct warping, and virtuous friends help cultivate humaneness.

The wise understand: seek friends superior to yourself, choosing those who share your aspirations. In company, discuss virtue and learning; in public endeavors, work with united purpose. In poverty, collaborate for survival; in prominence, jointly benefit the world. In peace, study righteousness; in crisis, support each other. Let friendship transcend boundaries, preventing any from monopolizing the reputation of companionship.

Yet true friendship proves rare—interests can shatter life-and-death bonds, while time dissolves even glue-like intimacy. Today we seldom see friendships like Fan Shi and Zhang Shao's sworn brotherhood, but frequently witness ruptures like Zhang Er and Chen Yu's enmity.

The phoenix doesn't perch with owls, nor the qilin keep company with jackals. Clear streams don't mix with muddy waters, and the virtuous avoid the wicked. Prolonged association alters one's nature—forcing the upright to mingle with villains invites peril.

Someone asked: "What constitutes proper friendship?" Baopuzi replied: When noble men sever ties, they speak no ill—how much less would they slander friends? For friends they'd sacrifice life itself—why then care about rank or wealth? True companionship maintains closeness without presumption, harmony without...

This passage expounds principles for interpersonal conduct and ruler-subject relations. When observing others' faults, one should offer earnest admonitions with solemn honesty; when others point out my errors, I must correct them promptly without evasion. Never withhold truth for fear of causing offense, nor reject criticism because the words are unpleasant to hear. Do not cloak mistakes with sweet talk, nor embellish faults with ornate rhetoric. Outwardly feigning agreement while inwardly opposing, saying yes while meaning no, or showing surface compliance while nurturing hidden resentment—all these must be avoided. Envy not those who surpass you; embrace others' shortcomings while nurturing their strengths, speaking less of faults and more of merits.

Thus can genuine friendship be maintained and mutual suspicion avoided. When bonds are formed lightly yet separation treated carelessly, when intimacy arises swiftly only to dissolve just as fast—relationships that begin inseparable as shadow and form may end like the stars Shen and Chen that never meet, with deep affection turning to bitter enmity, and goodwill transforming into hostility. Such outcomes are beyond remedy.

During the Eastern Han's decline, when court discipline collapsed and imperial authority waned, when righteous principles were abandoned and power struggles became customary—people then mistook defiance of the times for nobility, and viewed saving the world as shameful. Hierarchical rituals crumbled, human relationships grew chaotic. Officials neglected their duties while chasing trivialities, pursuing empty fame. Those who mismanaged governance gained fine reputations; the most corrupt accumulated visible merits. Such men scurried day and night to powerful households, using influential connections to seek hollow fame, obtaining undeserved positions from families trafficking official posts. Sometimes competing for gain, they even turned to mutual slaughter.

Gongshu Wei (a noted Eastern Han scholar) loathed these trends but lacked power to change them. Unable to bear witness yet unwilling to look away, he channeled his outrage into writing, shutting his gates to visitors and severing social ties. This was indeed an act of righteous indignation, yet like straightening a bent pillar with excessive force, it proved unsustainable as a lasting solution. In truth, keeping distance from sycophants and guarding against flattery's roots would suffice—why resort to ancient extremes like naked kneeling remonstrance or hunger strikes? When repeated admonitions go unheeded, great disorder inevitably follows. Therefore, with those who utterly abandon ritual and righteousness, complete severance becomes entirely justified.

(Note: "The Deer's Call" refers to the Book of Songs' "Xiaoya·Deer Call," symbolizing harmonious ruler-subject relations; "Cutting Wood" refers to the Book of Songs' "Xiaoya·Cutting Wood," satirizing broken friendships; "Shen and Chen" are stars that never meet in the sky; "Gongshu Wei" should be "Cui Shi," Eastern Han political theorist and author of "Discourses on Governance.")